#and not only use her as an emotional tool for a man

[vampiricgf]

ripping my hair out because nobody just wants to let ada exist independently. I genuinely do not gaf about who she is or isn't good with, give me HER. give me what her life looks like, her past, her inner monologue, her emotional states, how she's feeling about what her life has ended up being, all of that shit. shes fascinating to me and I love her because I know she's a cool as fuck woman that would make me shake and drool like a geriatric dog after giving me a night of the strap PLEASE god let me know how ada wong actually is without making a core part of her personhood a blonde man. especially when I know damn well she's for the girls stop fucking playing with me rn

[trulyiamjustmaleficaring]

Sebastian Vael is such a profoundly lonely character

[grandmofftarkinsuggestions]

sometimes...... legends canon star wars..... is worse.

[dont-look-its-embarrassing]

To Be Seen

Azriel x Reader

This is my first ever one-shot or fanfiction type writing on here, so be patient with me bc it will be FAR from perfect or good.

This is purely self-indulgent bc again, I'm new at this and just wanted to write an insert or y/n type little blurb.

Summary; Being the best friend of Feyre when she was human, you regretfully got roped in and turned with her sisters as a tool for manipulation by Hybern. As the sister's find it hard to settle in claiming the attention of the two other bats, you attempt to make Feyre's and the inner court's life easier by flying under the radar and figuring it out on your own. However, are you really as unnoticed as you hope or is a certain shadowsinger entrapped by your caring and soft nature as his heart battles his mind for the third sister or you.

Warnings: None really, mentions of PTSD and anxiety, loneliness and self-help, slow-burn, slight angst with a fluffy ending, reader just wants to be seen but feels like she can't ask

Word count: 2,389

Pt2

The sound of a door opening broke you out of your thoughts as you sat in the drawing room in the house of wind. The gentle crackle of the fire Infront of you allowed your body to sit comfortably within the rather cold season and the book you were just reading sat loose in your lap. You haven't gotten used to your enhanced hearing yet as your now longer and thicker hair gently fell from where you had tucked it behind your ear.

"Y/n?" Your best friend's voice echoed into the room as her footsteps followed. A soft smile spread across your features as she came in, confirmed you where there, and plopped down ungraciously on the couch next to you. "Thank the mother you are here."

Her features where stressed, the worry written all over her face as she took your form in.

"What's going on?" You ask, hopeful to help.

Feyre let out a sigh as she let her eyes wonder to the fire Infront of the both of you.

"Nothing. Everything. I don't know, it seems that everything I do to try and help Nesta and Elaine seems to only make things worse." She rung her hands, a trait she picked up back in the human lands when she was nervous or upset. "It just never seems enough to make them comfortable or to try and apologize for everything that happened."

Your best friend's eyes slightly widened as she took her gaze from the flames.

"How are you? Are you doing okay?" The genuine care and concern oozing off of the female Infront of you reminded you of why you cared so much about your friend in the first place. When she was taken, you had searched high and low for her in hopes to get her back only to have her return happy and healthy with a loving man, or male, doting on her every need. You were ecstatic, and expressed yourself as so, even if it was with fae beings. When you and her sisters were taken, that happiness was put on hold to make sure that you are all where comfortable. Feyre's self-sacrificing nature did always drive you mad, even now when she was so close to being truly happy.

"I'm okay Feyre." She shot you a look, trying to dig deeper and call the bluff you made. "Seriously, I'm here with you and in an amazing place that I could only dream of with great people."

"A lot happened Y/n. A lot happened to Elaine and Nesta, but a lot happened to you." She was right, and it was weird for you to be so put together when the worlds of the other two were falling to pieces. With your more emotional and strong relationship with Feyre, you had been held captive with her sisters yes, but you also took the brunt of interrogation that the wicked king deemed necessary to gain any information of her court. You had put yourself in that position, you knew how awful she would feel about her familial blood being brutalized in such a way, so you took the heat. But, in the end, her sisters still took the change harder and refused to accept their new life, making everyone on edge and overexerting themselves to help.

With one look at your best friend's-tired eyes, you knew that she couldn't handle another burden. More like she shouldn't have to handle another burden.

The word tasted sour on your tongue.

Burden.

Shaking your head a small gentle smile graced your face, and you forced your features to emulate that same energy.

"I'm okay Feyre, really. Aside from some cool new power thing that I haven't figured out, I'm fine. " The breath she released could only register as relief in your mind as she met your smile.

"Okay, and we will definitely start working on that when we are all settled here." Her reassurance did little to reassure that it would be investigated. Again, with the two sisters gaining war altering abilities, your random energy (that had yet to manifest) would be put on the back burner until everyone else was settled. Again, the slight dismissal ached, but you understood the need for others to take precedence.

Giving a little nod, you two sit in silence for a bit just listening to the crackling of the fire and enjoying each other's presence. That is, until a wince rippled across your friends face and she slowly rose.

"I'm sorry, I have to go. I think Elaine is out and not talking to Lucien and it's a mess-"

"It's fine Feyre, go make sure they are okay." You assure with the same smile. Giving one last 'thank you, I love you' she was gone like the wind that howled outside the windows. The silence that followed her exit had the ringing in your ears become a bit to unbearable. Removing yourself from the couch, you travel down to your room and grab a quick change of footwear.

Today would be a good day to explore the town, or at least good enough to get your mind out of the dark slump of trying to acclimate to its' new body and abilities.

Making your way towards the door, a small flicker of shadow catches your eye.

"Hello?" You call. You know that Rhys is most likely with Feyre and Azriel is also probably there because of Elaine, so you dismiss it quickly after a moment, chalking it up to just a trick of the light.

Opening the door, the slight chill on the wind has a shiver run through you, but the sun quickly chased it away. Breathing a sigh, you look at the vastness of the stairs below you.

No time like the present.

Taking one step at a time and avid breaks when needed, you would rather not admit to yourself just how much time that trek took. However, upon reaching the bottom, the satisfaction that filled you outweighed the journey. Walking down the streets of Velaris, the bustling normality of the people filled you with ease. As your heels clicked against the stones below, your gaze just missed the little shadow that trailed behind your body.

Taking in the colors and vibrant people, the ease and happiness that covered their faces had the ache in your gut grow more and more. Your mind wandered to if you would ever be that happy and mundane. With everything that had happened so far, the familiar life in the human forest (although had its struggles) seemed like an ideal. It was the lack of routine, lack of knowledge, the newly sprouted life, the misplacement, all of it plus more. You didn't notice your breathing gain more weight and take longer to fill your lungs than it did at the house. You also didn't notice the little skitter of the shadow that had followed you as it raced away towards some unseen location. The heat in your body seemed to increase as the sight of a simple family loving and walking together entered your mind.

Would anyone love you like this?

You couldn't think.

Ducking into a nearby ally, the overhead sheets and covering allowed it to be shaded and darker than the streets 20 feet away. Even then, the darkness of the ally seemed to illuminate with your presence there. However, it wasn't the light, it was the lack of grasp of oxygen you could inhale and the strenuous shaking your body couldn't stop. The tears that fell without your knowledge burned their tracks into your skin and sizzled as they hit the ground. Your body gave way to the spasms that took ahold of you as your mind raced. Burring your head into your knees, you attempted to shut the world out and let your mind slow but to no avail. You wished the darkness of the alley would swallow you whole, allow the sun and light to escape you being seen just this once.

Almost as if your prayers where in fact answered, the light surrounding you died as the darkness of the ally surrounded you. Picking your head up to view what cloud or magical being answered your plea, your eyes were met with those of hazel crouching Infront of you.

"Azriel?" You hadn't met this male for more than a couple days ago. He was nice, offering to go with you places or chat every so often. You had a couple nightly talks with him where you shared some stories between the two of you. Nothing out of the ordinary though, you felt safe around him when he was near. Confusion washed your features and for a moment your brain stopped running in circles and focused on why the male might be in front of you in this very unfortunate situation.

"You're okay." His large hands had gently pried your head from between your own. He Slowly, as if not to spook you further, reached for your hands and took them in his own. As twisted as it sounded, the morbid scarring that littered his skin grounded you further and pulled you back to this moment and out of that forsaken cell and cold water. "Focus on me, breathe."

The ease of your breath returned as the seeming dark cloud that surrounded you peeled back revealing that same dampened alleyway. However, the slight char on the walls and burns on the ground was distinct enough to question. Looking around, more of those marks surrounded you but faded as it got further from you. Opening your mouth to ask, a quick look from the male had you hesitant as he shook his head.

"One thing at a time sunshine." You nod, ignoring the small butterfly that hatched in your stomach at the nickname, but the pain in your head from the little outburst brought you back to reality. Bringing your hand up to caress the muscle between your eyes, Azriel scanned you from head to toe checking for any other possible injuries. "Let's get you back to the house, okay? Have Madja take a look at you and maybe give you something to help process."

Although the beginning of his statement was directed at you, for an answer, the second part was mumbled more to himself.

"Okay." The short response was all you could get past your lips as he sent you a small smile and opened his arms.

Looking at him questionably, he held back a chuckle.

"Have you never flown?" Shaking your head, no, you had never flown before. Winnowed? Yes, but never in the arms of one of the three males residing in the same house at you. The aspect of Azriel being your first had a little flush cover your cheeks. He approached you carefully, scanning your eyes for any aversion to being touched or space invaded. If you didn't just have a literally breakdown in the middle of Velaris, you could've sworn there was a deeper emotion residing in his eyes.

Guilt?

Worry?

Longing?

You couldn't place it and decided not to keep the process waiting. Taking a step towards him, he kept his arms spread out to accompany your space against his.

"Wrap your arms around me." His voice was lowered with your closer proximity. Slowly you brought your arms to wrap around the back of his neck. He waited until you settled there before moving to hoist you up into his arms and walk slightly out of the alley to give his wings more room to take flight.

While doing so, you couldn't help but settle into his warmth as it felt nice against our colder frame. With all the adrenaline wearing off, you were left shivering.

"Make sure to hold on." He noted, which was all the notice you got before suddenly you two were no longer on the ground. Tightening your grip instinctually, you shut your eyes as you could practically feel the male smile at your nature.

"How did you get down there anyway?" With the loud wind it was hard to hear, but again due to the lack of space between the two of you his voice rang clear.

"I walked."

"Down those?" Without realizing the easygoing atmosphere he created, you had peered open your eyes to look down at the stairs you both were currently soaring over. Only a brief look however as you still had some human tendencies and did have a slight aversion to heights.

"Yeah." You nodded and went to shut your eyes once more to finish out the flight, but as you did you caught sight of a new look on the spymaster's face.

Pride.

Landing as softly as possible, Madja was already there waiting for the two of you to arrive. Without thinking, you blamed it on the spymaster's shadows (but grateful they were there). Feyre also stood to the side of her, worry wringing her hands again and you let out a sigh of defeat.

Stumbling out of Azriel's arms, he steadied you, giving a once over before his high lady had shot him an inquiring look. She looked at you shortly after.

"You are never to lie to me again Y/n, you hear?" Her chastising voice was filled with love and worry all the same.

But before you could open your mouth to respond with a thousand reasons why you might, a certain male beat you too it.

"Don't go too hard on her, admittedly we have all been a bit busy to check in." You both glanced back at the male in question as his shadows wrapped around him in song. He has said it was so to promise his attention to fix the problem, which warmed your core.

"She will be okay Feyre." Meeting eye contact with him, he had sent you a small nod of his head and smile before disappearing into the dark.

Your best friend looked at you in question, but a deeper thought was spinning in her head. However, the little throat clear of the healer nearby jumpstarted the next 24 hours of care and therapy from your best friend and the best healers in Prythian. The whole endeavor couldn't tear your thoughts to a certain inner court male and the way his arms felt around you.

Maybe you would be okay.

[jukashi]

If we take a break for a moment from the funny meme or self-aware kink indulgence understanding of the 'bimbo', and instead examine it as a sort of sexist fantasy - that is, literally a fantasy of ideal womanhood as imagined by a sexist - then we can come to understand that the 'himbo' is not the masculine counterpart. There is discourse to mine out of the idea that the himbo represents a sexist fantasy of ideal manhood, but I think that the himbo actually represents a sort of halfway step between the bimbo and her true counterpart.

The bimbo embodies sexist 'ideals' of womanhood, taken to an extreme and bent to the desires of the sexist (presumed straight, male) imagination. She is:

1) physically attractive in sexual terms, to an extreme - both a pleasure to possess and a status symbol to display to others

2) always horny (thus, always sexually available)

3) unintelligent in the traditional sense - not good at organization, STEM fields, academic learning, etc. this keeps her...

4) nonthreatening - she won't outshine a man in any domain of (the sexist ideas of) male competence, and

5) dependent - in need of a big strong smart man to provide for her, reassuring said man's sense of self-worth

All of these line up with traditional sexist ideas of womanhood - where the bimbo has flaws, they're not feminine flaws, and she still possesses feminine strengths (according to the sexist mindset).

So, the male counterpart of the bimbo should embody sexist ideals of manhood, taken to an extreme and bent to the desires of the sexist imagination. If we compare to the bimbo's features listed above, then:

1) physical attractiveness is desirable for men but not a key feature - a man can be manly while being ugly in a way a woman cannot be womanly if she is ugly.

2) horniness is not seen as desirable for men - it is expected and excused by sexists, but it's considered threatening to those who are its targets and a lot of sexism towards men is based in this assumed threat.

3) traditional intelligence is considered manly, but emotional intelligence isn't - in fact, it's seen as unmanly.

4) being threatening is harder to extract from manliness, as is...

5) being dependent, but it is possible, even required - men are just expected to be non-threatening and dependent in a different way.

Remembering that we're looking for a sexist ideal rather than a sexual ideal, we need to identify how sexism towards men works. Men are not sexually objectified under traditional sexism, but they are still objectified. This objectification is based on utility - an objectified man is reduced to a tool. He is wanted for what he can do and how well he does it, not in himself. His personhood is reduced to what makes him useful and controllable, and when he is not being of use he is unseen. He does not feel pain, he does not feel emotions that make him less of a perfect undemanding worker or soldier, he is permitted to suffer or rage or weep only for the things he serves and never for himself.

The male counterpart of a bimbo would be:

1) physically obviously useful - big and strong and tough, to an extreme, convenient for whoever he serves and an implicit threat to their enemies

2) seldom horny (thus never sexually threatening)

3) emotionally unintelligent - lacking the ability to understand or express the feelings of others or even his own (if he even has them) - in order to help make him:

4) unthreatening, in the sense of being easily controllable and socially inferior, and

5) dependent - in need of an inspiring leader, abstract ideals or a sole source of comfort to fulfill his emotional needs, further securing his loyalty and obedience.

I put it to you, then:

Space Marines are the male counterpart of bimbos, and becoming one is bimbofication.

[velvet4510]

Instead of yet another stupid apocalypse, you know what the final “battle” of Season 4 actually should’ve been?

The Umbrellas (including Ben) vs. Reginald.

No Cleanse.

No Keepers.

No durango.

NO REGINALD REDEMPTION.

None of that nonsense.

We should’ve had all of the Reginalds merge. So in the end, he remembers all the events of the previous seasons. Including the original timeline. He is the Reginald who raised and tormented and abused the Umbrellas.

The same should’ve happened to Ben; the Umbrella and Sparrow versions merge, and he has the memories of both versions. He is the Ben they once lost.

We should’ve learned the full extent of Reginald’s alien powers. It should’ve turned out that he is in fact a one-man army when he wants to be.

We should’ve seen Reginald’s plan backfire - the “tools” that he created in a selfish plot to get his wife back rebel and take back their autonomy from him. All his years of child abuse come back to haunt him as he is given no choice but to acknowledge that the Umbrellas are actual people, that they have found the real meaning of love in each other and his efforts to control them have truly failed. That there is more to these people than his own selfishness. All of his teachings come back to haunt him as their powers are used against him.

We should’ve had the siblings - plus Lila since she’s part of the family and also hates the man who abused her beloved Diego - finally face off against Sir Reginald Hargreeves. Both a physical and verbal battle.

Luther uses his super strength. Diego uses his trajectory tricks. Allison uses her rumoring for mental torment. Klaus conjures ghosts as backup. Viktor’s energy blasts bring Reginald’s worst fears to life. Five’s teleporting and time manipulation make their victory inevitable. Lila’s mirroring only doubles the effects.

And, through teamwork, the family win the battle and kill Reginald. (In Guardians of the Galaxy-type fashion.)

Together, the traumatized children finally conquer their abuser together.

Maybe they kill Abigail too, or maybe she sides with them and expresses disapproval at the atrocities that Reginald committed because of her.

Maybe Reginald is holding Sloane prisoner on the moon in Abigail’s place, and the final battle also operates as her rescue.

But definitely, the climax needed to be a confrontation between Reginald and his “marigold” children.

At least that would’ve been an actual emotional payoff to the 3 seasons of buildup and character development.

[shomatoriashi]

10/07/24; 05:40pm

{ drabbles / headcanons }

[ when you watch them fall in love with someone else ]

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel

notes and warnings: unedited; non!mc reader; unrequited love; angst, no comfort. do not ask for a part 2. mc names for each story ( lorelai, ashley, teresa, melody )

thank you @/nyashykyunnie for providing the banners for this story ♡

{ she's got you mesmerized, while i die | why would you ever kiss me? | i'm not even half as pretty | you gave her your sweater, it's just polyester | but you like her better... i wish i was heather. }

to sylus, you were simply someone he hired to help with making his life easier. his relationship with you was nothing short of a mere business deal, with your mere existence seeming to be a means to an end.

yet foolishly enough, you had fallen for this cocky bastard, knowing you would do anything to please him-

anything to make him happy.

you couldn't count the instances where you sacrificed your own dignity for the sake of furthering his agenda alone. from sleeping with his enemies to obtain their secrets, to risking your life backing him up in various situations that more often than not, ended up in a gunfight-

you truly didn't understand why you would put your body and heart through such torture, simply to receive a mere nod of approval in response. it was during times like these, when you're so busy nursing your wounds, that you wondered why your traitorous heart beat so strongly for him, despite knowing how he didn't reciprocate your feelings.

in order to feel better about this whole situation, you managed to convince yourself that sylus was a busy man. that he didn't have time to feel such trivial emotions like love; that he treated you well enough, and as long as you could forever remain by his side, then you had no complaints.

you were a fool, purposely living in this tiny sandbox, convincing yourself that you could survive on mere scraps alone when it came to sylus.

yet that all changed when a certain hunter crash landed into his life, changing not only the course of his life-

but yours as well.

you had simply tagged along, being sylus's all too willing shadow when the young woman foolishly stepped into the n109 zone with an agenda of her own. as sylus takes her back to the warehouse, you could detect the fear and anxiety in her voice even when she willingly went against sylus.

and it was with those eyes, so filled with conviction, that you could see the way the walls around sylus's heart was beginning to crumble. he makes a few snide remarks to the woman, yet you could hear the amusement in his voice when he steps closer to her, pressing his hand over hers that felt much too sensual for your eyes.

envy was felt choking you, and you had to turn away from the scene. ice was felt coursing through your very veins at the sight, and you bit down against your bottom lip with such intensity that you swore that you were close to drawing blood.

thoughts pertaining to your denial kept repeating itself in your mind, like a never-ending mantra, and you knew that deep down you were simply trying to lie to yourself.

sylus was simply using that hunter as well.

she was just as much of a tool to him like you were.

that woman is nothing special.

yet it all came crashing down one late evening, when you stepped into his room in hopes of seeking some sort of comfort from him. you were dressed in a thin nightgown, with your heart racing with anticipation within your chest. while admiring his sleeping face, you were filled with a longing for him, finding yourself praying that he would somehow return your feelings and take you in his arms all while admitting that he never wished to let you go.

when your hands reached out to him was when he began mumbling in his sleep, stating the syllables that made up a name that had your heart cease its beats almost immediately.

a name that wasn't your name-

"lorelai..."

you felt like you couldn't breathe, hearing his deep voice becoming so filled with yearning for that woman that it made you sick to your stomach. hot tears were felt streaming down your face, and you quickly turned away from him all while biting down against your fist.

lorelailorelailorelailorelailorelai! it was always her!

the woman with the smooth, pale skin and alluring gaze; her doe eyes and perfect hair managing to captivate sylus within mere minutes of him meeting her. your heart was utterly destroyed along with your confidence and love for him.

after everything you had done for him, he still refused to give you his heart-

yet it was stolen so freely by that perfect woman... lorelai-

you didn't think you could forget the way sylus spoke her name, filled with such reverence that it made you feel dizzy with envy.

spending several days avoiding sylus, doing your best to cut him out of your life. you wanted to skip any confrontations, not wishing to even admit the truth about your feelings when it came to him-

but as always, you were foolish into thinking that sylus would ever give you an easy way out.

you had been taking your usual trek home, ready to enter your apartment complex when a flurry of black feathers begin marring your vision, making you stop dead in your tracks when the onychinus leader appears before you. his large hands grips at your wrists almost painfully, making you cry out.

but perhaps more so than the pain was the fact that he treated you roughly, clearly not caring about your own well-being whereas he treated lorelai like she was made of porcelain.

"where the hell have you been?" annoyance twists sylus's features, morphing it into an expression of absolute disdain for you. "i've spent weeks trying to get in contact with you, and it turns out you've had me blocked this entire time?"

anger surges through you, and you use that sole emotion to fuel you when you manage to shove sylus away from you. his eyes go wide, taking a few steps back while giving you an incredulous expression. strengthening your resolve, you meet his gaze and give him the iciest glare that you could manage.

"we need to stop this charade, sylus. i can't go on working for you, not when you make it so damn obvious that i was never the one for you."

a flash of emotion was seen within his crimson gaze before quickly disappearing. his jaw seems to tighten in response to the way he was now gritting his teeth, "what are you talking about?"

you sharply inhale, finally spilling your darkest secret to him, "i love you, but you don't give a damn about me- not like you do with her."

surprise flashes across his features, and he takes an unsteady step towards you, "you... what?"

shaking your head, you angrily wipe away your tears, "i love you, that's why i can't be with you anymore. everything i've done, i've done for you, to make you fucking happy- to make you acknowledge me."

with your head held high, you meet his gaze and tell him (all while managing to keep your voice even), "if you want me to come back to you, then you need to make a choice. knowing how i feel about you, how i've always felt about you, you need to choose-

if you want me to come back, it's me. but if you choose her, then i'll be forever gone from your life."

sylus looks away from you, remaining silent for just a few seconds before his body began to shake, his laughter seeming to pierce through your heart, "you have no idea how long i have yearned for her... so to have lorelai so much closer to me than ever before, it's clear that i would accept any losses, including you."

the devastation you felt in that very moment was almost too much to bear, with you quickly running away from him. the tears continue to cascade down your cheeks, and every memory you shared with him continues to play within your mind.

your love-

the sacrifices you had made for him-

it had been all for naught.

when you were hired to work as one of the general surgeons as akso hospital, you felt as though you had hit the jackpot, landing a job at such a prestigious hospital in the heart of linkon. feeling happy at being able to further your career, you didn't think that anything could possibly distract you.

that is... until dr. zayne came into the picture.

you had heard about his achievements in the medical field, and you held a great deal of respect for him. becoming a cardiac surgeon of his caliber was no easy feat, and the fact that someone so young could accomplish it was commendable to you.

in fact, you were eager to start your work life with dr. zayne-

however, what you didn't expect was to fall so deeply in love with him at first sight. his bright eyes and the way his tiny smiles would constantly invade your mind was taking its toll on you. each time you would think about him, daydreaming of scenarios with your beloved doctor, your coworkers could see your lovestruck expression and take note of how your cheeks would suddenly go warm at the sight of zayne.

you were just so enamored with him that you gathered your courage and asked him out, first. after all, there was no penalties for developing a relationship between coworkers as long as both parties kept it professional while on the clock.

the memory of you confessing to zayne became a fond one. you had heard from yvonne that his favorite food were macaroons, and you figured that you had a better chance of winning his heart by gifting him his favorite food. so, with the box of colorful cookies in hand, you step into zayne's office and offered the gift to him all while confessing your feelings for him.

"zayne, i apologize if you find this... unprofessional, but i can't hide my feelings for you any longer. i... i truly like you so much, so please, will you give me a chance and go out with me?"

you watch as his eyes grow wider, an embarrassed expression taking over his expression as he hides his lips from you with the palm of his hand. he seems to be deep in thought, and after much deliberation, he accepts your confession and agrees to date you.

for the first couple of weeks, you were on cloud 9. zayne was nothing short of being the perfect boyfriend, taking you out on weekend dates at the end of your long shifts while giving you special trinkets here and there.

but there was one glaring issue-

zayne never once kissed you.

sure, he gave you gentle hugs here and there, yet each time you would lean up to try and kiss him, zayne would inevitably look away from you, saying that he was tired or how it wasn't the right moment to kiss.

despite how he never once complained or said a word to you, his lack of affection-

or rather, the lack of him reciprocating your affections, was taking its toll on you.

and you couldn't figure out the reasoning behind his distance until much later.

you had just come out of surgery, and as you stepped out into the lobby, you saw something that made you freeze, unable to move or say a single word.

standing a mere few feet away from you was zayne, and he was smiling at a petite woman. never before had you seen zayne appearing so soft before. the woman seemed to be chattering on about something to zayne, and your boyfriend did nothing but smile at everything she said-

as if he were hanging on to her every word.

feeling the pinpricks of jealousy beginning to surface, you march towards zayne and take a hold of his hand, doing your best to maintain a casual air as you cling to zayne and smile at the other woman. "zayne, i was looking everywhere for you!"

your laughter was strained as you eyed the woman, feeling the envious feelings begin to rise upon seeing how... perfect she looked. with kind eyes and full, rosy lips tilted up in a smile, she greets you. "hello, you must be zaynie's girlfriend! my name is ashley, and zayne's been my friend since we were little kids! he talks a lot about you, and i'm happy he's met someone so wonderful."

from your periphery, you could see the way zayne winces upon hearing ashley's words. it was clear that her calling zayne as simply her friend was enough to earn a wounded expression from him-

and that was the moment your epiphany came.

there was a reason why zayne never kissed you; why he never went beyond hugging you while taking you on simple dates-

it's because his heart had never been yours to begin with-

it belonged to her.

the blood had already rushed to your ears, blocking out whatever ashley had said before she excuses herself, leaving the hospital lobby. in your daze, you look down to see zayne clutching on to something tightly, realizing that ashley had made lunch for him.

feeling your throat go dry, you manage to tell him, "we need to talk."

zayne gives you a stiff nod, following you towards the upper floors and into his office with almost robotic movements. upon reaching the privacy of his office, you close the door, watching as zayne gingerly places the container filled with ashley's homemade lunch on his desk.

"who is she?"

zayne doesn't meet your gaze, simply staring out the window, answering your question softly, "it's like she said, she's a childhood friend."

"...a childhood friend that you love."

your heart was felt shattering all over again when zayne stiffens momentarily before visibly relaxing, as if feeling some type of relief-

like he didn't need to lie to himself or hide it anymore.

you thought hearing him confirm your suspicions would be the end of your heartache, but it was so much worse when he admits to you, "ashley is the reason why i worked so hard to become a cardiac surgeon. she... she has a heart defect, and i wish to save her life... to keep her alive and live a happy, fulfilling life."

his admission has left you reeling in response, the pain becoming so palatable that you could feel your heart begin shattering into a million pieces. "if you love her so much, why aren't you with her?" you ask him, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes.

zayne simply shakes his head in response, "she doesn't feel the same way for me... and truth be told... she deserves better than me. even though i've loved her through every timeline and universe, i-"

your heart couldn't take zayne's pain any longer, the hurt you once felt for him quickly becoming overshadowed by the unconditional love you still felt for him. taking him within your embrace, you feel the way he trembles against you, clinging to you as soft sobs were wracked through him.

and when he finally lifts up your chin, meeting your gaze while sayig your name with a broken gasp, he finally kisses you-

the taste of your first and last kiss with him was salty with his tears, yet you were too far gone to realize that this single kiss of desperation was made in response to his own lingering emotions for ashley-

never for you.

"there's a new girl that's going to be my partner at the association... and i'm in charge of looking out for her."

xavier tells you as you prepared dinner for the night. you frown at this information, but thought nothing of it. after all, he was skilled at his job as a hunter, often receiving praise for his strength when it came to dealing with the wanderers that roam the world.

"that's fine, i know what your work entails, xavier. you're a hunter, and if there's a newbie you need to train, then that's the end of it." you tell him with a hum, your back now facing him as you focused on cooking once more, missing the relieved expression on his face.

you serve dinner and ask him about his day, only to receive one word answers in response. this also seemed a bit strange for you, since xavier never really shied away when it came to telling you about his day and how he felt.

you had both been dating to close to a year now, with you growing closer after becoming friends. you realized that you both shared similar interests and just... naturally progressed your relationship into something a bit more romantic. at the 6 month mark of your newly developed relationship, you decided to move in together with him.

it was true that you dated and had a few other boyfriends before, yet none of them were quite as serious as your relationship with xavier. despite never once saying the l word to each other, deep down, you knew that you were falling for xavier. in fact, with the sheer amount of times you had gushed to your family and friends about how much you adored him, they were confident that you would get engaged the moment your one year anniversary hit.

with the date quickly approaching in just a few weeks, you began to paint your daydreams, thinking of different ways xavier would propose to you while giggling like a little girl. you had always dreamt of having the perfect proposal, and you couldn't help but feel giddy at the thought of what was to come.

after serving dinner, you sit across from xavier, taking a few bites here and there all while sneaking glances at him. you couldn't stop grinning at him, which makes xavier raise his eyebrows at you in suspicion.

"what? do i have sauce on my face?"

you snort and quickly shake your head, reassuring him that you were simply caught up in your reveries. xavier doesn't bring up the subject any longer, simply returning to his meal.

later that night, as you both got ready for bed, you were dressed comfortably in your favorite pajamas all while anticipating xavier's return to you. after his usual shower, he comes out of the bathroom with a plush towel wrapped around his head. tossing the damp towel into the hamper, he gets into bed, with you expecting your boyfriend to face you while taking you in his arms.

but when he gets into bed with his back turned towards you, you had to fight back the strange pang felt within your chest. your mouth kept opening and closing, asking him if he was okay-

"sorry, i'm just a bit exhausted. let's just sleep..."

ignoring the way your throat seemed to clench in response, you give him a stiff nod, only to realize that he couldn't see you. "r-right... i understand, you're tired, that's all."

the tears were felt brimming against your eyes, but you quickly wiped them away, falling into bed while clenching your eyes shut. you tried to ignore the lingering suspicions, distracting yourself by counting sheep until you could fall into a restless slumber all while trying to convince yourself that everything was going to be okay...

{ ... }

the weeks leading up to your first anniversary with xavier was strained, to say the least.

for starters, he seemed to be taking on more missions than usual, all while telling you that teresa was still new and needed someone with experience like him on these higher level missions.

at first, his reasonings didn't bother you or raise any alarm, and you simply allowed him to work with teresa because it was his job and that woman was his partner. you couldn't let your insecure thoughts put a damper on his job.

even when you saw him less and less-

your love never once wavered for him.

on the day of your one year anniversary, you decided to surprise him at work instead. surely, he would have completed his mission sometime during the late afternoon, and you were certain that he would appreciate your kindness.

with his favorite takeout in hand, you walk into the hunter association building, weaving your way through the area. it takes you a few minutes to locate him, but when you went down to the lower levels and could see his familiar, blond hair, you quicken your pace, his name already on the tip of your tongue when you freeze in your steps.

"i thought i had lost you!" xavier's voice was heard cracking as he wrapped his arms around another woman, seeming to crush her slender frame against his chest. your heart begins to ache at the sight, making your labored breathing feel even more painful as you struggled to remain calm and not hyperventilate.

but, it was clear that such a heartbreak would not break even when he opens his eyes and sees your trembling form staring blankly at him. even after seeing you, xavier does not move away from the woman, seeming to hold her even closer to him as he shakes his head at you.

while meeting your gaze, he mouths a few words, and you could read his lips while taking in those harsh syllables. you drop the bag of takeout, your choked sob echoing throughout the area as you ran out of the building.

your sobs coupled along with your gasps for air were making a scene, with some of the civilians looking at you with bewildered expressions. yet you stopped caring, allowing your mind to piece together what had always been in front of you ever since teresa had come into his life.

xavier distancing himself from you-

xavier suddenly filled with the desire to protect teresa, a woman he had just met-

the way he held her so tightly at the memory of nearly losing her-

a sudden cry of your name stops you from taking another step, your stupid heart suddenly filling with hope when you hear xavier's voice and his rapidly approaching footsteps.

you hear him stop a few feet away from you, his voice strained once he begins speaking once more. "i... i'm so sorry, i didn't want you to find out like this, but you have to know the truth."

it takes you a herculean effort to fight back your tears, but you knew you had to hold it together and allow xavier to finally explain himself. "i do care about you... but... fuck, the moment i saw her, everything else just melted away. all of my life, my entire existence, was simply waiting for her to come back to me. i've waited so long for her... and what i feel for her... it's like... like gravity isn't what's keeping me grounded, but she is."

you had no idea what kept you rooted on the spot, knowing that both your heart and mind were screaming at you to move away. but, you couldn't find the strength to do so. instead, you had to listen to his words once more, the same ones he had mouthed to you earlier-

"i'm sorry, but i love her..."

when the beautiful and charming rafayel confessed to you, you accepted his feelings and simply wished to date him just to have fun. despite his occupation as an artist, rafayel was so full of life- so full of light that you couldn't stop yourself from basking in his brilliance.

during the first few weeks of your relationship, your rafe was achingly sweet and cute, often giving you sketches he made of you when he drew your portraits on a whim. he liked calling you his muse before pressing audible kisses against your features, earning a series of joyous laughter from you. because of how much you adored rafayel, you often liked to spend the night at his place, where you would both order your favorite seafood and simply watch cheesy rom-coms together.

as time went on, you began to realize that you were falling hard for the young artist, with him being constantly on your mind even when you were at work. and just when you thought you couldn't love him anymore than you already did, he surprises you by gifting you a gorgeously crafted bracelet that had cute little seashells along with aquamarine gemstones.

altogether, your relationship was achingly perfect with rafayel, with you being certain that he would become your endgame. truly, there were times where you felt like your relationship with rafayel was too good to be true-

yet sadly, you would learn the harsh reality when it came to his feelings for you, realizing that the love rafayel had given you had been his own way of coping.

when it was nearing your 8 month mark of being together with him, rafayel suddenly became distant with you, often locking himself within his studio as he seemed to produce copious amounts of artworks. of course, when you tried to see his new paintings and sculptures, rafayel would hide them all away from you, covering them all with a thick sheet while distracting you with a date.

this behavior was strange, but you thought nothing of it. perhaps he was nervous about an upcoming art exhibit, and he didn't wish to reveal anything until the day of his exhibition came.

so, you went along with it, making up excuses each time rafayel would stiffen when you hugged him, or suddenly turned his head away from you each time you tried to kiss him.

but perhaps what hurt the most was the day you found out the reasoning behind his growing distance. rafayel told you he needed to take a break from making art and invited you over to enjoy the evening with him. you arrive an hour earlier (unable to contain your excitement at finally spending some time with him), and caught him with streaks of paint decorating his outfit.

he mentions how early you are, yet still allows you inside, telling you to make yourself at home while he takes a quick shower. as you rest against his kitchen counter, you hear the shower go off and smile. a few minutes pass, and you felt the palm of your hands begin to itch with a sudden sensation.

biting down at your bottom lip, you look towards the area where rafayel keeps all of his artwork. you were filled with curiosity, wondering what he was working on that made it such a touchy subject for rafe each time you asked about it.

you close your eyes, still hearing rafayel in the shower when you decided to push yourself away from the counter. "i'll just take a quick peek, then put the sheets back in place. he won't even notice."

stepping into his gallery room, you turn on all the lights, coming closer to the sheet as you gripped at the corner of it before pulling it away-

only to reveal a gorgeous carving that depicted a mermaid. she was by far the loveliest creature you had ever seen, with her soft features carved with a gentle smile as she held a pearl within her slender hands. from the amount of care rafayel had put into making her, it was clear that this sculpture was made with love.

there was just one problem-

the mermaid looked nothing like you.

your throat was felt painfully clenching at the sudden realization, but you brushed it off as mere paranoia. surely, there was some other art piece that held your likeness. as you trail your eyes towards a canvas now, you felt your heart sink even further.

it was the same woman; her features matches that of the mermaid sculpture, but this time, you could see the colors. her cheeks were painted in a rosy hue, with each paint stroke seeming to accentuate the soft beauty the woman displayed. around her neck was an aquamarine pendant in the shape of a banded tulip seashell. trailing your eyes further downwards towards the frame, you felt your heart clench upon seeing the title of his painting:

melody, my beloved queen

your mind was racing now, and the sheer intensity of the hurt and envy you felt renders you incapable of taking another step. you were so caught up in your reveries that you didn't even realize that rafayel had come out of the showers until he places the sheets over his works once more.

"you- you weren't supposed to see that."

slowly, you turn around to face him, and his guilty expression was more than enough proof, confirming your suspicions that the woman he kept painting and sculpting- this melody-

he loved her.

"why did you even approach me when your heart was never mine to begin with?"

you were proud at how even your voice came out, and when rafayel tried to stutter out some excuse, you immediately cut him off.

"no more bullshit lies, rafayel. tell me."

the artist lets out a string of curses, running a hand through his damp hair. unable to meet your gaze out of shame, he sighs before admitting, "it's because she doesn't remember me... even after meeting her, she only sees me as a friend. she... doesn't remember me."

your throat was burning now, and you could feel the tears streaming down your face, "then why waste your time with me?"

rafayel meets your gaze, a pained expression painting his features. yet his next words succeeds in absolutely devastating you:

"i used you as a means to try and forget her."

the agony you felt was indescribable, with you immediately turning away from rafayel. the sting of his betrayal was felt coursing through your very veins when you rushed out of his home and into the cold, night air.

you wanted to grip at your hair and scream at the top of your lungs-

you wanted to claw at the sidewalk, making sure that your nails bled with each scrape against the concrete-

but perhaps most of all, you wanted to rip your heart out for still loving rafayel despite it all-

even when you were no longer his muse.

[ all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!! ]

[nightcolorz]

always thinking about the development of abed and Brittas dynamic. Pov ur Britta and ur starting community collage and u meet a visibly autistic guy in ur Spanish one class and when ur introduced to him u can’t help but think of ur older brother who works with autistic kids and u wonder if ur capable of making positive change in someone’s life the way he does or if ur always going to fuck everything up like everyone says u do, and u befriend this autistic guy in ur Spanish class who realize as u soon become close friends rlly needs a type of daily support that he isn’t and has never been accommodated with and ur like wow, sad, what if I can be the support he needs, and obviously you can’t, bcus ur one person and also u know nothing about autism and also this random man from ur Spanish one class has an acute mission to push u into emotional despair bcus ur earnest desire to help him bcus of ur personal internal conflict combined with ur huge amount of ignorance reminds him of his mother and he wants to consciously emulate his relationship with her with u so that he can use footage of u to make a shitty art film about his childhood trauma and that’s when u realize that u aren’t ur brother and also are stupid asf to think that u can be like ur brother for ur adult friend who is low key having some form of psychotic episode but even still you’ve grown to love this autistic Man U met at ur Spanish one class and it breaks ur heart everyday that u will never be enough to meet his neglected emotional needs so u decide to become a psychology major so that maybe one day u will be adequate enough to do this right, bcus rlly u have a lot of unaddressed existential terror that the world is a cruel unjust place that u are too insignificant to do anything about and it fills the hole in ur heart a little to feel like u are making an impact in at least one vulnerable persons life, but ultimately ur an ignorant and self centered collage student and ur autistic friend from Spanish one loves to remind u that u are not enough and ur attempts to help him will only ever backfire or register to him as infantilizing condescension and as u try to therapize ur adult friend u become the one getting therapied as he turns every attempt of urs on its head so that now u are the one being confronted by ur own psychological problems which eventually come to a head when he comforts u about ur own failure while he’s having a hallucinatory psychotic episode prompted by his mom giving up on him where he tells u in song form that you are “broken” bcus u desperately want to help people but u lack the tools to make any positive change and u cry a whole lot about this bcus from now forward u are forced to reckon with the reality that u are not qualified to fix ur disabled friend bcus ur a psychology student in collage and he has autism and psychosis and childhood trauma and all u can rlly do about that is be a good friend and an adult about it and also accept that ur disabled friend is just as much of a person and an adult as you are and u cant violate his autonomy by using him as a tool for ur own self betterment and now u don’t use ur baby voice on him quite as much bcus you’ve learned that ur friend is going to psychologically torture the shit out of u if u try to be his mom so instead u set ur sights on being his collage friend who he can talk shit with and such and everyone’s just going to try their best

Then pov ur abed and ur like lol. Britta is Talking to me Like im five. What if I stop talking to her to emulate my childhood speech delay so that she’s forced to deal with the burden my mom did and she leaves me like everyone else does so I can make a movie about it. Oops she’s still here. Well, her romantic subplots would make rlly good sitcom storylines in the tv show that is my life. 🍜🍜🍜🍜🍜coolcoll

[pedropascallme]

Yes, Mr Miller

Pairing: dbf!Joel x babysitter!Reader

Summary: "You yourself wouldn’t consider Joel a friend, he was more so an acquaintance who paid you to hang around the house with his kid. A very handsome acquaintance."

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), age gap (reader is 20-22 age range, Joel is mid 50s), dom/sub dynamics (dom!Joel x sub!Reader), verges on exhibitionism but isn't quite, fingering, cum play, degradation, praise, Joel has an absolutely filthy fucking mouth, no outbreak, Sarah is like 9, if I missed anything please let me know!

AN: Part 2 here!!

If you had to choose one word to describe Sarah Miller, it would be “firecracker." Not only was she the most energetic child you had ever met, but there were days you genuinely couldn’t keep up with her antics; she ran circles around you, bouncing excitedly before jumping into the pool and demanding you race her—so that she could show you how easy it was for her to win.

And you loved it. Babysitting her was a brief respite from your days of research papers and early mornings. You considered it luck that your parents had moved into the Miller’s neighborhood after you left for college; it meant job security when you returned home from school.

Your father had quickly bonded with Joel after the move over their shared, niche interests; the watch brand they both wore, the tools they used for odd jobs—it was sweet, really, to see two men with little outward emotion confiding in each other. Though you'd never heard either of them say it outright, the long nights they spent in your family's garage drinking and muttering football scores to each other was enough for you to deem Joel Miller your father's best friend. You yourself wouldn’t consider Joel a friend, he was more so an acquaintance who paid you to hang around his house with his kid.

A very handsome acquaintance.

When he called you that afternoon to see if you were around, you nodded against the phone, wrapping the wire in your fingers and enthusiastically accepting the offer to babysit. An opportunity to spend time with Sarah, and the opportunity to speak to Joel—no matter how short the conversation—was not one to waste.

It wasn’t like you actively planned to seduce your father’s best friend, but in your head, it was a fun game to amuse yourself with; you had never exactly been the sexually-outgoing type, and it was exciting to play around and flirt poorly with a man as stoic and flawless as Joel Miller despite the fact that you knew he would never acknowledge, let alone cave, to your shy advances. Who cared if every interaction was fuel for your late-night activities, alone in the dark with your fingers pressed against you? Who cared if you remembered every time he looked at you, and all the ways he brushed up against you?

Nobody had to know.

Clad in a sundress that let you show off maybe a little more skin than you should as a caretaker, you meandered down the path to the Miller household from your own. You rang the bell, always hesitating to walk right in despite the fact that Joel had told you countless times in the past that you could come and go as you pleased. Joel opened the door and gave you a brief up-and-down, letting out a playful whistle.

“Just babysittin’, darlin’, didn’t have to get all gussied up.”

 “It’s an old dress, Mr. Miller,” you blushed, always referring to him with the honorific, “not anything fancy.”

“Fancier than anythin’ I ever wore.”

You examined the well-loved flannel and jeans he wore, “That’s not saying much, is it?” You smiled up at him.

Chuckling, he ushered you into the house, and you leaned against the counter. You weren’t uncomfortable around Joel; he was a nice man, despite the grumpiness he exuded, and you’d known him long enough now to feel at ease in his presence—never mind the fire that ignited in you when he spoke. “Sarah’s out in the pool. You can order dinner, ’m good for it,” he grabbed his keys, “don’t know when I’ll be back.” He crossed his arms, biceps bulging through his shirt, mulling over any other details he had to share with you. “Remember where everythin' is? Food, bandaids?”

“Yes, Mr. Miller.” You spoke up. This had become the usual back-and-forth between the two of you: he would over-explain the job you’d been doing for two summers now, and you would let him.  

“I’ll have cash for you when I’m back.”

“Don’t need it.” This was another game you enjoyed—pretending you didn’t expect anything out of him. Obviously, you’d watch Sarah for nothing, you loved her, but a college student living with her parents didn’t necessarily have the room to deny money being offered to her. You did it more out of courtesy than anything, with the added bonus of getting to see the roguish frown he directed at you.

Joel made a noise in disagreement before opening to back door to call for Sarah. “I’m leavin’!”

You watched as Sarah, sun-kissed and still soaked from the pool, bum rushed her father, letting him kiss her on the head and exchanging “I love yous” and “be goods” before she turned her attention toward you, grabbing your hand and leading you outside. You smiled a goodbye at Joel as you were pulled through the door to the backyard.

~~~

You didn’t remember falling asleep. Not that anyone ever really could, but you had no recollection of setting yourself up on the couch and nodding off.

You woke up to the feeling of something gently brushing at your knee. Opening your eyes and looking toward the source of the touch, your hazy brain registered Joel standing in front of you.

“Sorry ‘m so late, darlin’.” He was speaking softly, but his voice still managed to come off gruff. You savored the gravelly sound, and the way the nickname made it seem as though he was apologizing to a significant other for coming home late, rather than a babysitter he paid to be there.

“It’s alright,” you rubbed your eyes, trying to delay the post-nap grogginess you already felt seeping into your bones, “what time is it?”

“Little after two,” Joel frowned, brow knit “should’a called you.”

“It’s alright,” you reiterated, “Sarah just ran me kinda ragged.” You explained why you were passed out on his sofa. “Gets harder to keep up with her every summer—makes me feel old.” You grinned, tugging the hem of your dress down to cover the bare skin of your thigh to retain a bit of modesty.

Joel watched your movements before quickly refocusing his attention to your face. “How’d’ya think I feel ’round the two of you?”

You smiled at each other, too tired to grasp the atmosphere of the compromising situation you had found yourself in. “I should get going.” You stood, but Joel blocked your path.

“Not this late on your own, y’shouldn’t.”

“It’s a five-minute walk.” It was more like ten, but you didn’t bother with details, trying to quell Joel’s anxieties.

“I’ll drive you.”

“Mr. Miller…that’s excessive,” you argued, “I’m a grown up.”

“Like hell—don’t want you walkin’ on your own. It’s dark," he put his hands on his hips, leaning down to meet you at eye level, "what would your daddy say?"

“Don’t want you to drive me if you’ve been working all day.” You muttered, ignoring the way his phrasing and tone nearly made your knees buckle.

“That’s sweet,” he quirked a brow, “get in the truck.”

~~~

You liked Joel’s truck, it smelled like him; sweat and shampoo and sawdust, with a hint of the cologne he wore. He’d driven you around plenty, but usually it was still light out, and Sarah or your father would accompany the two of you.

You were comfortable with Joel—but that comfort went out the window when you were tired and alone, with the man that consumed many of your private thoughts, late at night. You felt somewhat self-conscious sitting next to him now, watching him fumble with the keys and white-knuckle the steering wheel.

“Seatbelt.” Joel reminded you, bringing you out of your thoughts and allowing you to rejoin him in the waking world. You buckled yourself in.

“So…” Joel seemed to be aware of the tension, “What’s your plan, when you get your degree?” He attempted small talk.

“Dunno,” you were honest, “wanna stay here.” He nodded, starting the engine and peeling out of the driveway. “Don’t really see myself joining the work force. Not yet. I’m only a junior—still got time.”

Joel laughed softly, “Give it a few years. You’ll get sick of doin’ nothin’.”

“I’m not doin’ nothin’,” you mimicked his thick drawl, “working for you, aren’t I?”

“Hardly,” Joel glanced over at you, “not payin’ you nearly enough.”

“It’s a good thing I like Sarah, then.” You joked. You enjoyed this, the repartee you were experiencing with Joel. You had known him since you were 18; fresh and unsure of yourself. Not that much had changed, personally, but it was rare that you got to experience Joel all to yourself; it was riveting, and a little nerve-wrecking, but it was nice to be the center of his attention, especially considering he had always seemed to regard you as an equal.

“You’re a good kid, sweetheart.” Joel smiled, thumping a hand on your thigh, just below the edge of your dress. This was new. He had put a guiding hand on your waist or shoulder in the past, but this placement felt more intimate. You stared at it, letting the warmth that radiated from him drain into you.

“Thank you, Mr. Miller.” You squeaked, still enjoying the weight of his hand on your thigh.

“Why don’t you call me Joel?”

“Do you want me to call you Joel?” You peeked over at him.

“Can do what you want,” he explained, “but you’re the only person that ever called me that.”

“I like it.”

“Bein’ the only person to call me that?” He rubbed his thumb over your skin, and you could feel yourself blush, the fabric of your underwear damp.

“I guess. Like how it sounds.”

“Makes me seem respectable.” He grinned, and you leaned back in the passenger seat to appreciate his side profile.

“Aren’t you?” You pushed, emboldened by his sudden physicality and wrapping a hand around his forearm, tracing your fingers across the tanned flesh. You felt like a high schooler, so unfamiliar with flirting and making awkward somatic advances instead of addressing the crush you had head-on. Still, a shot like this wasn't one you were inclined to miss.

Joel pressed the brakes at the stop sign at an intersection concealed by foliage. “Do you think I am?” He felt closer to you now, despite being the same distance in his seat as he had been for the duration of the ride. He let you continue to clumsily hold onto him, his own hand tightening the grip he had on your thigh.

“I—I think so…” You stammered, lips parted, unwavering gaze set upon him.

Joel put the car in park. He leaned in close to you, removing your hands from each other as he shifted, his hand moving to cup your cheek. “Think I can prove you wrong.”

You breathed out, eyes dragging up and down his face, providing the tiniest nod of consent—afraid that if you moved too much he’d take his hand away from you.

He kissed you then, slowly, gently; he let you set the pace with small, closed-mouth kisses. His hand slipped below your jaw and the kiss deepened slightly, leaving enough space for him to lick and nip at your bottom lip. You let out a soft moan at the feeling, the way his stubble rubbed against your lips, and he grunted, smiling. Your hands drifted up to his chest, holding tight to the fabric of his shirt and encouraging him to come closer. He slipped his tongue into your mouth, and you sighed at the feeling. You couldn’t say how long you continued on like that; his hands in your hair and yours planted on his chest, tenderly exploring each other’s mouths.

You felt your panties sticking to you, and you subconsciously began to roll your hips atop the seat you were in, suddenly frantic to find some kind of relief for your aching clit. Joel noticed, chuckling at your desperation.

“Poor thing,” he tilted your chin up to look at him, “need me to help you?” His eyes were darker than their usual shiny umber.

“Yes, Mr. Miller—please.” You pouted, eyes wide, rubbing your thighs together, still hoping to dull the throbbing between your legs.

“Fuck, darlin’,” Joel reached down to help you hike up the skirt of your dress, “such good manners, so pretty comin’ from that sweet li'l mouth.” He traced a finger over your panties, running it along the seam of your pussy. You moaned, bucking your hips gently into his finger, and he smiled, tutting. “I know, honey.”

His smile faded when he felt the drenched fabric of your underwear, eyelids drooping slightly when he let out a gruff moan. “This all for me, darlin’? Tastin’ me get you all wet?”

“Y—es,” you managed to choke out, “yes.” His smile reappeared then, clearly proud of himself and infatuated with you. He moved your panties to the side, grazing his finger over your entrance to collect some of your wet before he began to knead your clit.

You grabbed his wrist, whimpering. “Oh! Uh-huh…” Your mouth fell open and you looked up at him from under your eyelashes.

“Don’t look at me, sweetheart—watch me fuck you with my fingers.” Joel lowered his hand from your clit and plunged two fingers into your cunt. You cried out, squeezing his wrist in your hand, feeling so full from only his fingers. You watched him pump his hand, fingers thrusting in and out of you, accompanied by a squelching noise as your cunt wept for him.

“Oh, yes—yes, Mr. Miller—fuck, yes!” You shrilled the only words you could remember, finally throwing your head back in ecstasy, no longer able to abide by the rule Joel had set for you.

“Young li’l cunt,” Joel pawed at himself over his jeans, still focused on the sounds coming from your mouth and your pussy, “fuckin��� tight f’me.” He pulled his fingers out of you, bringing them to your lips and silently encouraging you to lick him clean. You did, taking them both into your mouth and licking your juices off of him. He slipped one more into your mouth, watching you struggle to handle all three, cheeks puffing out.

His hand came down to your hole once more, and this time he pushed all three fingers into you, using your saliva and wet as lubricant to ensure that they all fit securely inside, stretching you out as best he could.

“That’s it…need’a open you up, darlin’,” he watched the effort it took for you to take his fingers, spearing you on the thick digits while you moaned wantonly. “How’ya gonna take my cock if I can barely get my fingers into this pretty pussy?” You bucked your hips into his hand upon hearing his words, striving to make him proud by fucking yourself open. “Good fuckin’ girl.” He watched you bounce your hips back and forth on his hand.  

“Mr. Miller it—fuck, want—want your cock.” You moaned out, wetness dripping from your cunt and onto the fabric of the passenger seat, the moisture sticking to your thighs.

Joel grunted, punching his fingers up into you and making you scream out. “Yeah? Want my cock, let me fuck you nice ’n’deep?” Your eyes rolled back, and you couldn’t be certain if you were more impacted by his movements or his words, both working in tandem to ensure you were made a mess of.

“Yes! Want your cock!” You let your fingers rub circles over your clit, trying to match Joel’s rhythm, however awkward it was due to the center console he had to lean over.

“Can’t fuck you here, sweetheart,” he didn’t stop, “what would people say if they saw a sweet little thing like you taking Mr. Miller’s cock in his truck?” He was teasing, and he pulled the straps of your dress down, letting the fabric bunch and exposing your chest to him. “They’d know what an easy fuckin’ whore you were.”

You whined, back arched, and he slapped your hand away from your clit, taking over completely. “Want them to know—want them to know I’m a whore for you.” You felt filthy, loving every second of it.

“Comin’ to my house, dressed like a slut every fuckin’ time—this what you wanted, girl? Wanted me to use you like a fuckin’ toy?” You felt his fingers make a beckoning motion, curling up inside of you and putting pressure on your g-spot. You scratched at the headrest behind you, slumping down to let Joel have complete and total access to you, letting him use you up to his satisfaction. Moans and whimpers of his name fell from your mouth as he continued his ministrations. “Yeah, you fuckin’ like that, honey—just needed to whore yourself out.”

“I—‘m gonna cum!” You felt the strain in your body increase, muscles tightening at the impending release of all the tension they held.

“Who’re'ya gonna cum for, sweetheart?” Joel pinched your clit before resuming the massage he’d been providing it.

“You, Mr. Miller, gonna c—um for you!”

“Tha’s’right. Cum for Mr. Miller, darlin’. Be a good girl and cum on my fingers.” He was demanding it; telling, not asking, you to soak his hand with your cum. You felt the gratification come to a head, and your back arched further as you cried out his name. Joel watched with wonder, jaw slack, as your cunt clenched around the three fingers he had buried inside of you. He felt himself try to rut against the fabric of his jeans, horny like a teenager after watching you cum for him with such intensity. But he had meant what he said—he couldn’t fuck you here, at this tiny intersection where anybody could wake up, come out, and see you both. As much as he would’ve liked to fuck you there, it was overruled by the want to do it properly, in a more private space.

“Good fuckin’ girl…so good f’me.” Joel slid his fingers out of you, feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm with every movement he made as you continued to squeeze around him. He sucked on his fingers, eager to taste the juices he had pulled from you. Your chest heaved and your body trembled lightly; when you looked up at him and saw him cleaning his fingers off, you found the strength to lean over and take one of the fingers into your own mouth. The two of you licked at each other around his hand, moaning and panting at the indecent display.

He dropped his hand, focusing on you entirely. If you hadn’t been tired before, you were now, and the satisfaction Joel had given you was enough to put you to sleep where you sat, while his lips brushed your neck and cheeks.

“Think I respect you more after that,” you leaned back in your seat, recalling the conversation that had led you to this, throat verging sore after the screams he had pried out of you. “Been wanting you for so long.” You sighed dreamily, looking up at him through hooded eyes and reaching over to fiddle with the collar of his shirt.

“Could’a said so,” Joel took the hand you had on his chest and kissed your palm, “would’a been happy to give you what you needed.” You rubbed at his stubble, and he kissed your hand again before letting it go. He leaned over to help you fix the straps of your dress, covering your breasts. You sat quietly before he started the car, and he continued to drive you home, placing his hand on your thigh again, holding tightly, as if now that he’d seen you in such an amorous, vulnerable way, you’d disappear. You put your hand on top of his, weaving your fingers around it.

When he parked in front of your house, the clock in the truck read 3:08—a drive that should’ve taken two minutes had taken an hour, and you were glad your parents wouldn’t be awake to question why it had taken you so long to get home. Joel looked at you, tired eyes conveying a glint of gratification when he smiled.

“Thanks for the ride.” You found your voice again, leaning towards him to analyze and appreciate his features.

“My pleasure.” He smiled, just barely, and took your chin in his hand. You stared at each other, not yet wanting to get out of the car despite the fatigue you felt all over. “Y’know,” he spoke again, still holding your face, “think I’ll need you to come over tomorrow.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm. Think you’ll be around?”

You smiled, letting yourself melt into his touch when his hand wandered over your cheek. “Yes, Mr. Miller.”

[so-sures-blog]

Icebound

icebound definition: surrounded, obstructed, or covered by ice.

In which Zane uses his element against the Overlord to save the city and his friends. Because it wasn’t about numbers, it was about family.

❄️🩵❄️🩵❄️🩵❄️

It is the end, and Zane knows it.

The Overlord is conquering Ninjago City, webs of gold stringing across buildings like Christmas lights and tying up his friends like flies. They struggle, but it is useless under the might of the Overlord.

Zane flips out of the way of a golden band reaching to ensnare him and lands on a roof. All of his friends are tied up, and only Zane is free. He knows what he has to do. He is the only one who can.

“Support me, friends. For one last time.”

He takes a running leap off the ledge, and Jay flips midair so his feet plant squarely on top of his. Then Cole, Lloyd, Kai, Sensei Garmadon, and Wu.

He soars, flying straight at the Overlord, and grabs onto his golden fangs.

Immediately, he feels its power, and its agony. Pain rips into every crevice of his body; his jolts rattle and shake and his wires spark under his skin.

“Let my friends go!” Zane shouts.

“Go where, Doomed Ninja?” The Overlord sneers. Its eyes, red and hateful, glare into him.

Zane writhes under the immense pain and power. His body cannot handle it, he knows, and he feels himself falling apart under it.

“The Golden Weapons are too powerful for you to behold. Your survival chance is low.”

But Zane isn’t trying to hold them. He’s trying to destroy them.

He thinks of his brothers. He thinks of PIXAL. He thinks of his father. He thinks of an old man with long white hair as pure as snow and ice blue eyes that visited him a long time ago, who had come and left as quickly as winter did and had breathed that power into him because he saw him worthy of it.

“This … isn’t about numbers … It's about family!”

The golden webs holding the Ninja fall and they escape. He can hear them screaming, telling him to let go, and he thanks them for that. Wu and Garmadon grab onto them and yank them back, away from the oncoming destruction.

His core — his heart — started reaching critical mass. Frost began creeping upon the Overlord’s fangs. Something blue and blinding in his heart freezes under his power, and Zane embraces it. It's his power. His choice.

“I am a Nindroid. And Ninja never quit. Go Ninja … go!”

He is the Master of Ice. He was built to protect those who cannot protect themselves. He stands for peace, freedom, and courage in the face of all who threaten Ninjago.

Frostbite burns his skin away; jolt and wires freeze under the cold; until he is left completely bare.

The last glimpse they get of Zane is him surrounded by a blizzard of his own making, bright and beautiful like a supernova. Burning blue and white with the terrible brilliance of his own determined choice.

Zane died; not as a machine, not as a human, not as a tool of anyone or anything — but as himself. Zane died to save the ones he loves.

And woke up as something completely different.

❄️🩵❄️🩵❄️🩵❄️

PIXAL climbs her way up the steep cliff side, careful to place her foot in secure crevices in case she slipped and fell from the icy mountain. Heavy snow blinded her vision as the blizzard whipped around her, but she kept her pace steady and sure.

It had been months since she had left Ninjago City and began her search. Months since Zane’s death and memorial. PIXAL knew, logically, that she should be back there, properly mourning him. But she could not.

He had never given up on her, not when she was under the Overlord’s control or when she was struggling with the newness of emotions.

And that meant she could never give up on him.

When she had first met Zane, she became more than a machine meant to function. He was vital to her, and she was a part of him.

She carried half his heart, and against all logical explanations, she knew he was still alive.

She did not tell the Ninja of her suspicions: the immediate aftermath of Zane’s loss had been devastating. She’d watched as the team fractured, splitting at the seams as they all fled their separate ways, too heartsore and dizzy with grief to do much otherwise. She did not tell Cyrus Borg where she was going either, for she knew if he begged her to stay, she would.

If she had told them she had seen a snowy wraith emerge from the destruction of the frozen, apocalyptic atmosphere on the rooftop, she would have been told she had imagined it due to her grief.

And while she was grieving, she was not imagining it. She is a Nindroid, and she did not have an imagination. PIXAL was built to observe, to analyze, to collect data and gather information. She built theories and hypothesized, not assumed.

So she followed the signs. She kept track of all weather anomalies that happened across Ninjago — sudden snowstorms, cold drops in temperatures that swept through small villages and towns. It led her all across the country until it ended here, with her climbing up the frozen, snow-peaked mountain.

Finally, PIXAL arrived at her destination.

The Ice Temple.

Slowly, she makes her way towards it. Her sensors indicate the temperature dropping the closer she gets. For a normal human, they would have already gotten frostbite without the proper equipment and numb with it, but PIXAL was made of metal. The cold did not bother her.

She peers into the glacial architecture, but does not enter. Or more like, she is unable to. It feels as if there is some sort of force of winter that is keeping her at bay.

“Zane?” Hope finds its way into the desperation of her voice. Freezing winds whip her hair out of its ponytail and against the purple circuits on her cheeks, but she barely notices. “Is that you?”

There’s nothing except for the howling wind, then her eyes catch movement. Slowly, almost like a ghost, a figure starts to come closer, making a shape against the blizzard.

If PIXAL had lungs, all the air would have rushed out of them.

A being made of pure winter floated in front of her. Formed of ice and frost and molded by the wind, it stood there and looked at her. Opaque ice carved the face that has been imprinted in her memory drives, the one she had traveled across the entire world to see again.

It was frozen, and beautiful, and Zane.

Inside her neural drive, alarms were blaring into her system, flashing behind her eyes. Warning: Severe weather alert. Temperature reaching sub-zero levels. Retreat into a warmer climate —

PIXAL shut off the notifications.

“Hello,” she says. Zane does not move. She dares a step closer. “Do you recognize me?”

He says nothing, so PIXAL continues on. It feels like their roles were reversed when they first met: she, the one struck speechless by the other’s beauty. Him, stoic to it all.

“I’m PIXAL, the Primary Interactive X-ternal Assistant Lifeform. I’m a … friend. I came searching for you to bring you home. There are things about you that you don’t understand. That you have yet to discover. I am here to help you remember.”

Zane is quiet, but she senses that he is listening. Something glowing in her chest aches.

“It is alright if you don’t remember me,” PIXAL says. She cannot cry, but is she would she could. She is still new to emotions, and many are overwhelming her: joy and grief and something fierce and pure deep in her heart. “I remember you. And we are still compatible.”

Zane tilts his head and drifts closer. The snow slows its fall, the wind stopping altogether. Snowflakes gently coat her hair. Now that he is closer, she can see the differences that make him unlike the old Zane: he doesn’t have the one dimple on the right side of his cheek, or the small beauty mark on his collarbone, or the tiny scar on his index finger from his shuriken.

But he is still Zane, even as an icy spirit.

She held out a hand. “Your brothers miss you very much. Will you come back with me, Zane?”

He is silent, staring at her. Unlike before, it is impossible to know what he is thinking. She gazes up at him, imploring. His eyes have no irises or pupils, so she is simply staring up at pinpricks of pure blue light.

Slowly, his hand reaches out of her.

BANG!

A loud sound echoes across the ice, and out of nowhere chains of Vengestone come flying out and capture him.

Fear slams into her. “Zane!” PIXAL cries.

Ice races out from his body and across the chains as Zane struggles, but no matter what, he can’t break them.

PIXAL whips around to face the assailant.

A man in his thirties, wrapped in a thick parka to prevent the cold and wearing a red mask. He has shoulder-length brown hair and is wearing a dyed red straw hat, and under it she can see he is hiding an eyepatch.

“What are you doing?” PIXAL shouts. Anger — an emotion she rarely feels — burns through her.

The man lowers his gun and pulls out another one before she can even blink.

“Sorry, sweetheart. Just following orders.”

Before she can question what that means, he fires. A net tangles her limbs together and brings her down against the cold snow. Before she can fight against it, electricity courses through her.

And then everything went black.

[pearl-nouveau]

A Woman's Purpose - Cregan Stark x Reader [chapter two]

summary: After your grandsire's death, you fly to Winterfell with Jacaerys and find yourself nervous to treat with Cregan years after your heated moment together.

warnings: none i think

a/n: short chapter, just felt like a good stopping point. anyone want part three,,,?🤗

The actions of Alicent and her eldest son did not shock me, but they deeply wounded a sense of hope that I hadn't realized was still deep within my soul. I would always remember Cregan praising my kind heart, but sometimes it felt like a curse. I had believed at my core that our family could find it within themselves to forgive, to come together, to support my grandsire's wishes and put a woman on the Iron Throne... I had believed that Alicent had a spine, that Aemond had humility, that Aegon had a heart. And Heleana, my poor, dear aunt whom I considered a close friend - it pained me to think of her caught in the center of such a mess. I longed to see her and I longed to see my mother on her throne. 

I thought back to the dinner we had before leaving for Dragonstone again. We had been merry, since Jaecerys and Lucerys were newly engaged. I was happy for Jace especially since we had talked so often of hoping for happy marriages, and Baela was a wonderful girl who he already adored. It pleased me that there was a possibility for love between the two of them. 

Aegon had drunkenly wandered to my seat and leaned towards my ear. 

"Poor niece... Your only purpose to be married off and still yet to be engaged. You'll be running out of options soon." 

His amusement sickened me and I continued to pick at my food, trying to ignore him, but he continued. 

"If you don't pick you'll end up with some elderly lord with a thumb for a pecker. Best swallow your pride and pick someone to claim you. Can't be your own woman forever, girl." His breath reeked of alcohol. 

Jacaerys had noticed his advances and stood to intervene, only for Aegon to direct his attention towards Baela, which began a whole other mess leading to the night quickly unraveling. 

It had made you think about marriage, not only as a duty, but as a tool. It had always been an important fixture in politics, but after everything that has happened with the throne, I knew that it would be even more urgent for me to take a husband. I lay in my bed at Dragonstone, resting my eyes, considering the current predicament of betrothal.

When it came down to it, there was no one I wanted to imagine myself marrying except for the Northern man who had captured my heart so many years ago. I feared, however, that it was too late. I had already refused him, in a way, one time. In addition, I had humiliated myself with his advances and then fled. He very well may hate me; find me to be a tease, a whore. I shuddered to think about it. 

At that moment, Jacaerys barged into my room. 

"Sister," breathlessly he addressed me, "mother has requested us to go to Winterfell and treat with Cregan Stark." 

There was a hint of a smile on his face, although we both knew the task was serious. I had no immediate response to him, so he elaborated.

"I suggested that you come. I believe you should see him. Besides, it is the perfect excuse to go."

I turned away, suddenly emotional. I wiped at my face. "Perhaps he has already taken a new wife," I shook my head. "We only need one representative of the crown."

"You're coming," He said finally. I realized it was no longer a request, but an order.

"Does mother know?"

He shook his head. "This is for you to figure out. No interferences." I raised an eyebrow at him. "Except for mine, right now. I would hope that if we are to enter the Hell of war we can find at least some happiness within the chaos."

His words made me want to weep, realizing how much he has grown and how much more he will have to in the coming years. How much all my siblings would grow. I feared for the lives of my loved ones. Instinctively, I reached for my brother and pulled him to me. He hugged me back tightly. 

"It'll all be okay, little dragon," his old nickname for me made me chuckle into his shoulder, "tomorrow, we ride for Winterfell."

That night, I dreamt of Cregan. Brief, hazy glimpses of moments we shared in the past. Moments that made me fall in love with him. 

I saw him poised in front of Vermithor, no fear in those stormy eyes, his hand outstretched to stroke my beautiful dragon's scaled face. He had respected the authority of my beast, and Vemithor in turn had leaned into the Lord's touch. That moment had brought heat to my stomach and tugged at my insides. The Bronze Fury was not easy to befriend. 

I saw him across the altar in the sept where I took him on a tour, his head bent in prayer, dark hair framing his face. He had caught my eye and held it, unblinking, keeping it until I looked away.

I saw in the golden hour in the training yard, his gaze finding me between every attack. He moved like ice against his sparring partners: cold, calculated, hardened. No one bested him. When we walked to dinner together afterward, he walked behind me, and I had suddenly felt a tug at my hair. He gently pulled the ribbon holding my braid together - a braid commanded by my mother - letting my hair fall down my back. I like it down like this, he told me, wild and free, like you. 

Morning was unwelcome because it ripped me from the warmth of my dreams with him, but the realization that I was soon to be headed for Winterfell thrilled me. I quickly dressed and packed with my handmaidens before finding Jacaerys in the hallway. He said nothing, grasping my hand and nodding solemnly. We moved to the dragon pit together and prepared Vermax and Vermithor. When we exited the cave, I saw my mother and younger siblings watching on from above. 

"We should say our goodbyes," I told Jacaerys, "the Gods only know when the next time we will all be together is."

Jace nodded, and we joined with the rest of our family. I kissed each of the little ones on the forehead, pinched their cheeks, sniffed their baby skin, making every attempt to remember them as they were in case I was struck from the back of my dragon. Lucerys stood tall when I came to him, like the proud little fighter he was, and I gave him a tight hug and a squeeze of luck for his own journey. I worried for him dearly, but Lucerys was perhaps the most smart and capable of us Valeryen children, even at his young age.

"Good luck, raqiarzy," I spoke into his hair. He was nearly as tall as me at that point. "I shall see you soon."

My mother gazed at me with that look she always wore as I moved to stand in front of her. So diplomatic, so very regal. Sometimes I wished she would soften and just be my mother for a moment. But now, finally involved in diplomacy, who was I to her? Still her daughter, or some cancerous growth jeopardizing her claim?

I felt her arms around me. "Be safe," she whispered into my ear, "I love you, my daughter."

Tears filled my eyes and I hugged her back. I thought about all of our fights about my marriage. Who was I truly fighting? We were both shackled by tradition, still, I realized. Her claim had been an abstract future and now it had all come crashing down. She was still fighting the same battles against men that she believed to have won as a girl my own age. None of our past disagreements mattered now. Happiness and freedom were no longer mine to take for myself; they may be ripped from us all at any moment. 

My mother and I separated and she placed a kiss to my brow. Her stoic demeanor had faded and I could see wetness in her eyes. Jace offered me his arm and I reluctantly took it, turning away from my family and trying not to think about our uncertain future. 

The journey to Winterfell was long and cold, as many journeys on dragonback are, but I was comforted by the presence of Vermax and Jacaerys gliding back and forth below me. Our dragons, very different in size, flew quite differently. Vermax was nimble and slight, disappearing between clouds and darting in and out of sight easily. A formidable stealth opponent. Vermithor, on the other hand, was enormous and flew with simple, powerful strokes of his golden wings. He was fearsome, and I found him to be the most beautiful creature in the world. As terrifying as he was, our bond was strong. He never raised a tone at me; he grumbled and purred in my presence only, and awaited orders with undying loyalty. He had been my dragon since the time I was ten and four, and our relationship only strengthened by the day. 

The sky greyed as we flew further North and the air began to chill. I shivered not only from the cold but the impending reunion I was to have with Cregan. I had no idea what to expect. I had considered opening his letter but it was still too frightening to me. It left me even more unprepared for a conversation with him. 

When we reached Winterfell, Jacaerys and I circled Vermax and Vermithor a few times to signal our landing. We made no sudden moves towards the castle and its surrounding fortress, and landed in an isolated field. The wind whipped my long hair out from the veil I had tied around my head. It floated around my head like a halo as I squinted in the heatless sunlight. 

"Someone rides this way," Jacaerys called from the back of Vermax. He began to disembark and I glanced over to where he looked. A rider on a black horse, eighteen hands tall, came galloping towards our dragons. Vermithor let out a roar of distaste. He didn't like people coming near him - or me. I calmed him with coos in High Valerian and began to slide down his wing. The rider had stopped next to Jace and gotten off the horse.

As I crept closer, I knew it was Cregan. His stature was unmistakable. Tall and dominating against the bleak horizon in his furs. Gods, I had never seen him in his heavy Northern furs. It made me want to crawl within them, to feel the heat of his body around me. Coming closer, I saw him clap Jace on the shoulder with familiarity, and then turn his gaze to me. With no hesitation, he came towards me. I saw behind him Jace getting onto his horse, the ghost of a brotherly smirk on his face, and kicking the horse forward towards Winterfell. 

"What-" I began to question as Cregan came within arm's length of me, unable to finish as he pulled me to his chest in a tight hug. The furs were just as warm as they looked, and I melted into his arms. It had been so long since I smelled him. Like sap and smoke and ale and somehow roses. My arms snaked under the cloak and I could feel the hardened muscle of his body through his shirt. And then I realized - he was hugging me, as if he missed me, as if...

"I've missed you, my princess." He spoke into my hair. 

"You aren't angry with me?" I breathed into his cloak. He pulled back and took my chin in his calloused fingers, his face laced with confusion.

"How could I ever, my girl? You didn't read my letter?"

I flushed. "I was embarrassed. I thought you would have wanted me to keep quiet after I... lost control like that." He barked out a laugh, which would have made her feel ashamed had he not paired it with a gentle kiss to her cheekbone.

"I'll show you what losing control really is, someday," he kissed her cheek again and hummed. "Darling, I wrote you that letter and apologized for leaving so quickly... had it been up to me I would have stayed until you chose to see me again and asked for your hand right there. I had to get home to my son and my duties here but you have never left my head." Now it was his turn to flush as he recounted the contents of his letter. "I... I had begged you to someday consider me to be your husband if you ever found that marriage was something you wanted. None of my advisors could convince me to take another wife until I knew that there was no chance. I have held out hope for years, I have taken no other lover, and I beg you to end my agony and provide an answer," he dropped to his knee as if his body were giving out on him. "Is there a chance? Someday, that you would allow me to love you as I already do?"

It all became clear to me that my world was soon to fall apart, and standing in front of me was a man who was promising to stand by my side in the worst of times. As my family is torn apart and our power in the realm shattered. A smile crossed my face.

"You mean to tell me that the most eligible Northern Lord has been withholding his services from the ladies of the North, all because a faraway dragon rider was stuck in his dreams?" 

My teasing lilt was enough for him to look up at me and grin, standing to his full height towering over me. He grasped at my waist with one hand and cupped my face with the other. 

"They've been left wanting, I suppose." My Lord Stark said contemplatively. 

"As have ladies in the South." I told him, surprised by my own boldness and pleased by the delivery. 

He wasted no more time in capturing my lips, kissing me as if he were starved. He kept taking breaths to stare at me before continuing. His lips moved lovingly across my neck, my jaw, my throat, hungry to taste every inch of skin. After a while, I pressed against his chest and examined his face. It was even more beautiful up close than I remembered. His face an oval with hardened edges. Strong brows and thick pink lips that I was free to kiss. His hair pulled back haphazardly to keep from blowing in the wind. He kissed me one more time, this one softer than baby's breath, and held my head in one of his strong hands before nodding towards Winterfell in the distance.

"I let Jacaerys take my steed so we might walk together." He gestured back to the dragons. "Whatever they eat I will have brought to them."

"They'll eat anything. Even you," I poked his chest. 

"You just tell me if Vermithor ever starts feeling jealous. I shall begin to steer clear." 

We walked together, slowly, catching up after the last couple of years. I asked of his son and he told me that Rickon was nearly three years old. He stopped me for a moment. "I've already an heir. If we wed, I shall not force you to bear my children. You will never be just the mother of my children. You will be my wife." 

I smiled at that, saying nothing. Children hadn't crossed my mind. I supposed I was not ready to think about it. The way he spoke so definitely about our marriage gave me pause. 

"Cregan, I-" my words faltered, but I persisted. "I think you ought to know that I didn't come here just to see you." 

He chuckled. "I figured as such when you brought your brother and two dragons."

I blushed. "We need you and your army to stand by my mother. My uncle has taken her throne. My grandsire's crown was scarcely off his head before Aegon took it. My mother raises an army to stand against him. I am not a bargaining tool, I will not marry you for an army-"

"-I would never presume to trade you like an animal. The North will see your mother, the rightful queen, on her throne, you have my word. I want to marry you because I fell in love with you in King's Landing those years ago, and I wish for you to be free as you want to be. If marrying me is not how you will find your freedom, I will accept your answer." The concept seemed to pain him. 

Would marriage truly shackle me? Being with Cregan felt like being on dragonback for the first time. It felt like gliding over a lake of glass water, your arms outstretched. I had fought and fought for so many years to be free, but free from what? I now saw in front of me a new kind of freedom, away from the clawing hands that surrounded the crown always. I saw a man who chose me and respected my happiness. I looked around at the rolling hills and distant mountains. The cool wind on my face. Bustling people entering and exiting the gates of Winterfell. Perhaps I imagined it, but I heard laughter. Children. I closed my eyes for a moment and felt peace.

I opened them again to see the hopeful face of Cregan Stark awaiting my words. If what he said was true, would he remain here in front of me for the rest of my life, always waiting to grant my next wish?

I smiled. Reached out to him. Snaked my hands around his neck, brought his face close to mine. 

"I choose me," I told him quietly. "So, I choose you."

We sealed the betrothal with a kiss. 

[cutieeva]

For Eternal

𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐎𝐟 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫 Female Reader

Warnings : Manipulation. Brainwashing. Toxin relationship. Dubious consent. Stalking. Attempt home invasion. Sexual Themes

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 :

❛ 最強 ❜ (Y/N)'s heart was broken by the least person she expected. The boy she devoted herself for four years to be returned with the fact he never loved her once thus moving to Makochi town she met the leader of Bofurin who oddly seem to mend her cracked heart. Or is he really ?

Loving someone means compromising, building trust, open hearts to one another, have secrets spoken between the pair, accepting each other. Isn't it ? then why ? then why (Y/N) is the only one compromising ? trying to build one sided trust ? opening her heart bare to him by smiling the largest in his presence yet slowly her lips aren't ready to twitch. Slowly secrets were not in between them rather silently remained unspoken leading her no more to accept him. Loving him which was natural to her became a burden to bare. Calm words replaced with screams, smiles into frown and loving gaze into tears.

She couldn't be the only one making effort to meet, messages left in read, no longer good nights hushes spoken, his gaze solely on his paintings, their conversation for them to communicate became his to vent about his problems related to paintings and her to listen when words itching to spoke 'listen to me'. Her need of comfort from him after having awful days were spend all alone because of his 'I am busy painting'. She felt a tool for him to use yet he never became her tool of need instead he was never present in her need of time in the first place. So, she tried, tried, tried her best to be the ideal person he needs because he was her only paradise, the only one she could smile the brightest and only one who would appreciate her happiness, tell her how beautiful she is, gaze softly, spoil gently however that all vanished when his words in their each fights were "This is why women are troublesome". "So emotional you are". "Control yourself". "Stop crying !" So she ghosted her any emotions, numb to his angry outburst, ignore his spiteful words burning her because of how she stopped smiling yet never did he asked the reason behind.

She truly was numb, her heart exhausted, body given already and mind in daze. But her hopes of mending their love was altogether crushed, tramped, walked over when she discover his paintings. Oh so painting he dies for was filled with multiple women smiles yet their smiles were the only part drawn beautifully apart their entire face, body was either burled or dulled. Her eyes scan the dates was before their meeting so in desperation her fingers clawed for the rest ones, ignoring her doubtful question about his love, brushing off their first meeting flooding to her mind where they met at a museum and he said "Your smile is beautiful. So beautiful I am mesmerized". The way his lips curve were smiling and his eyes genuinely looked at her as if she was the brightest last star to be seen, so dazed and genuine his words were that she felt safe enough to trust him only later to fall for him.

THUD ! the rest paintings after their relationship were too pervade with her smiles with not any care to draw her even appearance only the colored honey coated smiles of her. The hard boards fell out of her hand with thud crashing into the floor along her heart, hopes and tears. After long time being numb to emotions she was cursed to feel was betrayed, pain and tears because she realize he didn't fell for her rather her smile. She wasn't his lover rather his one of the collections he preserved. She for him was a piece to hang in his collection that's why he care not to see her after he captive her. She was a source of his motivation, a muse to compliment not love to cherish. Breath halted to scream her anger out and eyes fire her hatred. Hatred for falling such illusion she dreamed, giving away her four years for such a man who doesn't deserved her. "Enough". She had enough. Endured enough lessons, gathered enough strength to be brave enough to finally utter her least imagined words. "I am breaking up with you". He first froze to process then protest angrily before paled down seeing her blank stare registering he lost her. For eternally. He fell on his knees, gaze in nihility and she took the chance to move out of his apartment they shared dragging her luggage.

Standing in the doorsteps of her parents she cried her heart out, nuzzling in their comforting pats and hugs she yearned before continue living shut in her room, feeling no need to move, walk, eat, sleep. Merely alive in the fleeing days that's when her parents suggested for her to go visit her beloved grandparents town. To change and restart her life again dusting her past to which she agreed not because she wanted instead went with the flow like an lost child told what to do. Still numbed she reached the new town—totally lost to find her grandparents house she last visited at the age of thirteen. "I should call them". Ringing she heard from her phone "The number you have dialed in unava—". Quickly she tab the red button knowing if her third call isn't picked then the next call won't be neither. Irritated by the beaming sun on her. She wiped her sweat over her (S/C) forehead looking any roof to rest meeting a café named Pothos. "Maybe I can eat something too". Stretching her stiff shoulders she walked over to the café entering. The moment she does so automatically relaxes her muscles, providing a cozy air and delicious aroma of meal. "I think I made the right choice". Unsure she walked near the counter a girl stood serving a old couple meal.

"Hello. Excuse me". Bravely she called out making the girl turn around who to her surprise was beautiful, smiled. "Welcome to Pothos café. Please take a seat". She pointed in front of wooden seats. "So, what would you like to order ?" Politely the beautiful girl asked.

"Any menu to choose from ?"

"Oh yes". (Y/N) looked at the menu written quite appetizing dishes. "So, I never seen you around. Perhaps a newcomer ? or a single visit ?" The girl titled her head in curiosity.

"Umm..neither. I am here to spend vacation with my grandparents". (Y/N) replied smiling a little finally deciding what to have. "I would like to order Omelette rice and Gateau au chocolate". The young girl smiled wider.

"Oh, the popular dishes of our cafe ?"

"Seem to be". (Y/N) agreed, leaning comfortably at the wooden counter, eyes darting around to find not much people like she expected when roaming the roads filled with mostly old people, some young men and tons of gangs she assume. If she recalls correctly the town, Makochi is mostly known for it's chaos, violence and gangs surrounded that's the reason why her parents visit to her mother's parents became little to no more but why did suddenly her mother suggested to come here ? at such an dangerous town all alone ?

"Here your food. Please enjoy". Hot smoke of the food touch her cheeks as the inviting aroma entered her nose and her eyes stare at the attractive looking food. She is certain it's going to be tasty and indeed the flavors melted in her tongue as the chewy texture was tender to eat, creamy cheese was cherry on top with the perfect amount of rice blending heavenly with the omelet. One word, this was incredible however unaware to (Y/N) her feelings openly displayed on her face that the beautiful girl couldn't contain her giggles. Her closed eyelids snap open. Feeling awkward of the unknown reason the worker laughed.

"I-I am sorry". Laugh bubbles in between her words. "It's adorable. How easily I can tell you liked it". She explained embarrassing the opposing girl. "By the way my name is Kotoha Tachibana, the waitress of this café". She introduce herself, forwarding a hand.

" I am (L/N) (Y/N). Pleasure to meet you". She shake her hands when a idea pop up. "Oh ! Kotoha-San, could you please tell me the directions of this address ? it's my grandparents house". Tachibana look at the address on her phone and gave a thumps up.

"Not worry. I know this place. Let me write you a easier directions to navigate". Quickly (Y/N) watch the girl write on a piece of paper she tore from somewhere before handing to her. "Here. Hope you understand but if you still have problems then I can a Bofurin to guide you after all they must be patrolling here soon". She suggested making the the (H/C) head girl confuse.

"Bofurin ? who are they ?" Never did she heard a name like this however she blinked watching how her eyes twinkled in delight.

"You must not know but three years ago this town was full of teams and gangs and whatnot fighting everywhere since then the town has changed and the people who changed it were the students of Furin high. The first doing they did was set up the sign in front of town". Her eyes wide now knowing the reason behind her mother suggestion because the place changed for better. Also she remembered seeing a sign written about anyone past this point who causes pain, who beings destruction, who holds evil in their heart will be purged by Bofurin without exception. "Originally they had Furin high's name written next to it eventually the town people gave them a new name as the protectors who fight to defend the town called Bofurin, the chime of the windbreaker and the protector of Makochi town". She finished leaning on the opposite side of wooden table.

"Also, a year ago a huge fight occurred between a bad gang called shadows and Bofurin and of course the Bofurin won". She summarize in calm tone. (Y/N) merely stare in awe feeling it only happens in anime, guess she was wrong.

"No, thank you. I can take care of myself". Tachibana frown nevertheless supported her decision.

"And thank you for the meal. It was truly delicious". She paid the bill.

"Your welcome". Tachibana said "Please come again". She really looks forward seeing this girl that she notice walks on eggshells a lot. Perhaps she is the quiter side.

"I will". (Y/N) turn her heel and look up when her heart dropped and eyes wide in surprise because in front stood outside the door is her ex-boyfriend, the reason of her running away, the cause of her pains.

"How did he found me ?"

"How is he here ?"

"How long was I stalked ?"

"Is he crazy ?"

Thoughts like magats crawl around her mind, overwhelming her not with fear strangely rather anger, bitterness and hatred. Anger for ruining her peace, bitter seeing the face that sacred her, hatred at herself for telling each things about her to where she lives, her grandparents lived and all yet she knew nothing about him. How unfair.

The tiny smile on her bloomed tarnished returning into indifference as she walked towards him, to be precise the only exist door and twist open the doorknob finally crumbling the wall seperating them.

His lips parted, gaze yearning mirroring hers few months ago, hand holding a white piece of paper she assume could be the address but she without wasting a time walk past him. Not sparing another glance when his once warm palm grasp her arm tightly turning to face him yet her head kept at another direction.

"Please, please, please (Y/N). My love, forgive me. Please do not leave me. I will die". He pleaded. "I was wrong. I was wrong to use you. Wrong to treat you like an tool I thought because yes at first I did had a motive but believe me breaking up with you made me realize your worth". His other arm grasp her another arm tries to hug the body he believes his.

Seeing her still not meeting his eyes, his palm grip her chin to forcibly look his eyes, look at his direction, look at him but she refuse to look at him even though she felt the pain of his tighten grip on her everywhere. The assault touches were disgusting to her. "No. No. No. No. No. Please, please, please, I am sorry. Please don't look so lifeless, please look like the (Y/N) I love, please smile again". His end words broke her heart a little when she felt it couldn't anymore. He was, is and will be selfish. How selfish is he asking her to smile when he was the one to stole it and paint it away without any care to know why she smiled.

"Why ? didn't you told me I am too emotional ? Why arent you liking me when I become a empty shell of myself ?". Finally fulfilling his wish of looking into his eyes with plain hatred she announced, tearing herself away from those harsh grip. "I am not your doll to do what you command". She glared down. About to walk again when he hugged her from back.

Cold water fell on her clothed shoulder she knew was tears. He shook his head. "No. You are my (Y/N) I know you still love me because I do". His hands held her tighter to the point all (Y/N) was feeling suffocation, frustration boiling her veins.

"I am not your object, Tokusa. I am a human being of my own". Her voices spat calmly than she wanted. Could feel strangers eyes burn her skin, words whispering to each other. "Leave me". She break through his web of touch. Hurry to leave in case he hold her again which he tried when his wrist caught by another.

Her (E/C) sight followed to find the earlier woman, Tachibana holding his wrist in deathly grip. "Don't you understand when she is telling you to fuck off ? Because if you don't I would love to smash my eggs on your dumb head". She warned surprising both (Y/N) and Tokusa.

"Who are you—".

"Tokusa. Leave". He turned to disagree when his heart quiver seeing how dead those eyes look. "Or else I will call your parents to say how much of an disappointment their son turn out to be". She sneered unable to hold her anger octave under her voice.

"And Kotoha-San, thank you. You can let go his hand". Tachibana in doubt looked at him before letting his hand go that fell limp. "And sorry for the unnecessary scene". She bowed down to which the girl shook her head immediately.

"Not at all ! It's not your fault". (Y/N) didn't correct it and merely said. "I will take my leave". She turn around to leave when the ex tried to grasp her hand again however she without looking move away walking past him defeating the desperate man.

As she walked she missed to notice a group of men wore green collar and sleeve embroidery blend with black uniform and button showcasing Furin along their badges.

"Go away ! You are never welcome to my cafe !" Soon their attention drawn back to Tachibana sending daggers in his way who's shoulder slumbed and defeated go away.

"Who was that weakling harassing a girl ?" Haruka Sakura asked, already scowling at the back of the man.

"I have no idea myself". The waitress replied easing the bubbling worry for the girl she met seconds ago.

"Isn't it clear he is her ex ? Judging by their conversation he must have made a mistake making her leave their relationship but after regretting wanting her". Hayato Suo elaborate. Once again amused by Sakura's flustered expression missing to notice Hajime Umemiya's narrowed eyes. However Toma Hiragi did.

"Hopefully she is okay because looks from their conversation the ex wants her no matter what". Akihiko Nirei sighed.

"Do you know about that woman much ?" Hajime asked his sister, who told her the little information she had from their earlier conversation.

"(L/N) (Y/N) ?" Her name roll out of his lips oddly ring pleasantly to his ears. He hummed thinking of her when she passed him.

Meanwhile a shiver ran through (Y/N)'s spine. Shaking her head to off the negative thoughts about Tokusa disturbing her holiday. She merely dug deeper into her grandma's fragile body and listen to grandpa's blarbling about how happy he is to have her.

"Thank you for the dinner grandma. It was Amazing ! Just like mom's". Her aged grandma chuckle moving away the dishes in the sink (Y/N) fought to clean because she wants to help her grandma not pile more work.

"You are really the good girl I always seen ! I am proud how you turn out". Grandpa pleasantly complimented making a small smile spread across her face when the doorbell ring. She turn her head back to her grandparents to see if they also heard because it's so late at night to visit at their home.

"Maybe it's the Bofurin children". Grandma's assumption turned wrong quickly due to the increasing rate of ring again and again shifting to banging.

"(Y/N) ! (Y/N) ! This is me Tokusa ! Please open the door ! I want to talk to you properly". The banging grew desperate so her heart to get rid of him. More than fear the emotion she calmed down was anger, annoyance. She wishes to smash his head until pool of blood covered his body.

"What should we do dear ? Who is this man that wants to talk to our granddaughter ?" Grandma worriedly ask breaking (Y/N)'s shallow thoughts.

"It's alright grandma". She hugged her. "You too grandpa calm down. I am coming back within seconds". With that she march towards their door ignoring her grandparents mutters of stop and slammed open the door let light fall over his guilty face.

"(Y/N) please, please be with me". Straight away she was in his grip, his hug tighter than usual and less care to ask her for forgiveness more so want her without her consent.

Dread.

Disgust.

Bound.

She experienced those once again alike in their relationship. She purely dreaded to be the numb shell of herself, sacrificing little by little her heart until nothing left for her to feel as he greedily feast on her like an filthy parasite. No memories of them in the past could she anymore feel elated rather indifference. "I lost love for him". She realize Or perhaps it tuned to hatred.

Sighing she prepared to push him when a whisk of air slammed on the floor, his body shove to the dirty road. (Y/N) astonishedly stood, re-playing the scene on her head occurred at such an unfathomable speed. Looking around she found a odd white mix black slit hair with heterochromia fire eyes glaring at the man at his feet. Her eyes slide to his uniform catching the Bofurin symbol on his badge resembling the word from the sigh board she saw at the morning.

"Miss, is he pestering you ? Would you like me to get rid of him ?" His voice deeper than she expected asked burning his eyes onto her.

Her (E/C) eyes went to his fallen body. "Yes, please do". No emotions held on her voice she turn to leave noticing other men behind the back blending with the shadows stood. One with beautiful sliver locks inheriting tall statue another long blue hair messily spread with his bend spine yet still tall and a smiley boy having flowing brown curtained hair with his left eye patched stood beside a messy short blond hair holding a notebook.

"Were they patrolling ?" She thought when a grasp escape her lips of an familiar hand grip on her wrist this time intending a bruises to print.

"Do not leave please. Why can't you see my pain ? I gave you my everything ! Graced you like an goddess, pampered you like an princess yet this is what I get". Snap ! The thin thread barely holding her years bottled feelings flooded away.

SLAP ! Tokusa's eyes wide, his face turned to one side throbbing his cheek even printing her fingers. "How shameless you can be ! Asking my heart when all you did was tampered ! walked all over me. Treated me like an non-existed person, a non-living piece to own and now after you stole my smile you want to erase it too ! Please get the hell out of my life ! You fucking pest". She screamed. Openly, loudly and without hesitating those locked emotions she itched spat on his face. Wet water run down her face she care not to wipe because she didn't realize tears streaming down.

Tokusa heart broke. Wordlessly standing beaten by the guy who was surprised by her sudden outburst totally different from her morning indifference.

"Please go. I have lost myself giving you bits and pieces of me so you could be happy. I don't want you anymore". A throbbing sensation raise her throat, raspy voice it become and eyes hazed. Rest. Rest is all she needs, climbing on the bed hiding inside her blanket from the pain of words, huddling into a shell position. Not desiring to hear she went inside slam closed the door and ran inside her room passing her grandparents who heard from the beginning.

"You bastard ! How low of a pest you are to make her cry ?" Sakura ruthlessly kicked him on the stomach and raised his fist to be stopped by a hand. Hajime's hand "Don't".

Frustrated he obeyed disregard the glare from Sugishita and step back. The leader step forward towering over him, the previous dull atmosphere dropped, a thick tension covered above Tokusa, he felt could die just from suffocation.

"Leave. Any unwanted outsider are not welcome if they cause problems for our town people. You did so leave before the bones in your body would fell limp". Cold his voice was, turquoise eyes bore right into his soul, slicing inside his guts. Something told Tokusa if he didn't listen, the darkness will consume in form of this unknown boy in front of him.

Alike a coward he listened running away. "What a let down". Hajime mutter confusing the group as they rarely ever saw him so cold, devoid of any mercy unless a fight surrounds.

The sun blessed the earthling with it's scoring rays liting the world up yet (Y/N) senslessly laid covered underneath her comforter. The door of her bedroom opened with a thud startled her.

"Grandma ?" She watched how the aged woman carrying a long bag with a thin paper on another.

"Here are the list of groceries I need or else no breakfast". (Y/N) sighed deeply.

"I want no breakfast".

"We do". She in beat replied. "This old woman and her husband do so bring the ingredients for me to make the breakfast". (Y/N) whined feeling the handmade bag fell on top of her face.

"Can't you order it in your phone ? It's much easier and faster !"

"It's a small town not city".

"But—".

"No buts ! I am hungry. I already have gas problems if this old woman die then the murderer would be you". As if she is a lawyer point her finger rudely in accusation. Annoyed she grabbed the bag and went outside—.

"Change your night dress, wash your face". In command the girl comply clearly hating her grandma at this moment. Shutting the bathroom door she settle to clean herself.

"Plan successful ?" Slowly peeking behind the wooden door grandpa asked.

"Plan successful". She exclaimed, patting her own chest after all they actually do not lack any ingredients at all but they noticed how depressed and lonely she looked. They sewed a plan to get her some fresh air.

"2 set of eggs. 1 kg of onions—" She read the list of ingredients out loud, walking reckless to reach the stores her grandma even sketch pictures and name for guidance. Unconsciously she rubbed the chibi drawnings in the corner of her papers 'You can do !' 'Go ahead !' 'We believe in you'. If one glance they will belived she was going to a tournament to win not stores to buy regular groceries.

"Hmm...this is the vegetable store ?" Her eyes stare at the board to not mistake at her part and look at the middle age man "Excuse me, could you give 1 kg onions and....". She tailed off telling all the written list to which he nod.

She sighed again feeling a little accomplished for succesfully conveying her needs. Suddenly a shiver ran her spine again, breeze flowed faster, multiple footsteps echoed even between the hustling market. She turn to find the group of men wore the same uniform last night, marching together as they greet all the town people warmly where they happily gift them few things.

"They are like heros". She found the familiar men at the very front and immediately hid her face recall how rudely she closed the door not carying of their well-being or showing gratitude.

"Here is your ingredients !" The working man hand over her bag and she took it exchanging money when in curiousity she glance behind to peek only to flinch by meeting those striking turquoise eyes already gazed at her.

She avert her eyes again, flustered to do anything. "Are you alright, Miss ?" She flinch meeting a different man, the messy short blond hair one. "After the night yesterday did he came to disturb you again ?" His thin press lips curve into a smile to relax her nerve a little yet the spotlight of other eyes felt like an needle poking her skin.

"No thankfully". Her heartbeat fast as she spoke to the blond haired boy. "Also, thank you for helping me. Hopefully you can forgive me for my rudeness the other day". (Y/N) bowed down to the split hair colored boy.

His face heat up in a second astonishing (Y/N) at the same time entertaining her.

"No problem ! I-I-I do what I do". His speech stuttter and his heterochromia eyes bore into anywhere apart her direction earning a small chuckle.

"He looks honest". Her eyes somber not paying attention to the leader of the group staring bluntly at her.

"He won't forgive you". She blinked facing up the tall man.

"Hmm ?"

"I said, he won't forgive you for your rudeness". A frown replaced her lingering curve of lips.

"What do you mean ? And who are you ?" With caution her eyes look up and down at him however he remained unfazed, not smiling his usual expression that his teammate notice.

"I am the leader of Bofurin, Hajime Umemiya and I decide if you are forgiven or not". She felt intimidate under those eyes. "But under one condition I can". Finally a smile bloom his thin lips shifting his entire aura softer and more welcoming she had to blink twice.

"And what is it ?" Tip of teeth bite inside her flesh scare of what he might want.

"If you treat us a meal you would be forgiven". He suggested overlooking his teammates and (Y/N) titling their head.

"Okay...?" She agreed having no excuse to deny and soon she found herself walking beside the leader towards the same cafe she went yesterday morning.

"This cafe ?" She mutter.

"My sister Tachibana-chan works here". In a sing song tone he told not falling to surprise her at the fact itself and his drastic change of attitude.

The door pushed open. "Welcome to Pothos café !" The same beautiful lady greeted. "Oh ! (L/N)-San, nice to meet you again". She held her hand clearly excited to met her again warming (Y/N)'s heart.

"So am I". From the tail of her eyes she saw them sitting towards one of the table ready to order. "They look used to it".

"Take a seat here". Her attention went to Hajime pointing at one of the open seat, unable to deny she obeyed sitting inside when realization wash her.

"Wait, I sit inside means—" Just like she expected Hajime sat next to her in process collide their hands that he moved but shoulders touch when Sakura pushed into the seat. Gulping she glance at him who looked at her too. She shifted in her seat maintaining a distance.

"How uncomfortable". She cowered more to not have her any part touch. Thankfully she had the luxury to not due to his entire covered sleeve however after their order. Once in a time their palm touch, hands brushes each other, glances one another, fingers accidentally intertwine to grab the same spoon and all of it unnerved her to the core she choose to overlook ate her order.

"Do you not like vegetables ?" The question was unexpected for (Y/N) and let her notice how in her meal she left almost all the vegetables excluding potatoes. Embarrassed she clench her corner of plate. He noticed.

"Not worry, I myself hated eating vegetables". The lie roll down smoothly than he expected making all of his teammate's jaw dropped. "But now I enjoy them do you know why ?" He titled his head smiling.

"Why ?" She asked curious.

"Because I know the right way to eat them. If you know the secret of eating vegetables you would come to love them too". Skepticism she felt nevertheless she nod. "That's why come with me to see a place !" Her eyes wide again.

"Right now ?" Uncertainly she questioned.

"Right now". He exclaimed standing up and notion her to come with him. Spin her head felt due to all the rush requests. In blink of an eye bill paid, walked out of the café with bunch of unfamiliar men regardless if they are labeled as protectors and stood in front of an awe-struck view from the rooftop, a huge tree beautiful planted and in sidelines are the sweet shimmering plants.

"Is this yours ?" She bend to view better for the first time her eyes looking at someone's garden as her friends lived in apartments while her parents house has an abandoned backside. Many times thoughts of gardening sweep through her mind however her dislike towards eating plants always held her back so she never ate plants neither grew ones. "So pretty". Truly did the roots of plants looked cleaned, vegetables hanging like an painting she was tempted to touch.

"Yes, You like it ?" His breath touch her cheeks.

"Very much". Absentminded she turn around only to be off guard by how inches away their faces were. Her heart halted and eyes racking over his face, so close to see his long lashes, chapped lips, beautiful shade of blue in those eyes. Swiftly she stood up almost falling over yet didn't still felt the warm hand behind her waist. Heart racing, eyes darting from one place to another to check if someone caught them and relief pass inside when confirmed no one.

"They are beans sprouts. Want to try ?" For some reasons (Y/N) hallucinate his corners of lips wider.

"I will pass". She avert her eyes to the eye-catching tree. A mistake she come to regret because he snare the chance to offer her a bag full of beans spout, tomatoes and few other green veggies wrapped in a visible plastic. "W-What.. what are you doing ?"

"Gifting". His turquoises eyes twinkle in pixie practically shoving the heavy bag of vegetables.

"But I-I-". She paused fearing for her life if she declined. "I am not good with vegetables so please keep this. I do not want". Overcoming her fear she clearly pushed back the bag that he crossed his hands.

"You must or you aren't forgiven". He use the almost forgotten scenario against her.  

"What ? didn't you said treating you meal would make me earn your forgiveness ?" Her frown deepen.

"Well, you must eat some because tomorrow I will come to ask reviews". Heading no attention to her question he tied the plastic knot around her wrist for her to easily carry. "Whether this time my plants grew well". (Y/N) in disbelief looked at the boy in front of her before seeking help from his teammates who unusually acting busy like Sukura fixing his already straight collars, Suo checking Nirei notebook with him, Hiragi dazing at the empty blue cloudy sky and Sugishita at the crawling ants on floor.

"How sweet, they are helping their leader". Holding the urge to scoff she took a deep breath. "I am taking my leave". She bowed to each man present.

"Won't you like to view more plants ?" Staining a smile she shake her head and ran before he could stop her.

In one word to describe the dinner it was a disaster. The moment she caught the sight of it with no appetizing aroma she had a hunch of not being good however that was a understatement when bitterness hit the taste buds almost piling the vomit out of her throat. Less than a bite she had ate along her grandparents. Her grandma apologized muttering she rarely cooks beans sprouts or any vegetables due to her husband picky tastes alike of (Y/N). That night she slept with empty stomach drafting into sleep.

Unaware the next day woken up she to open the door "I am coming !" Slide open the traditional Japanese wooden door she met the gaze of her least wished boy. Grinning ear to ear.

"Good morning". He greet racking her body carefully she shifted at his notion.

"Morning, what are you doing here ?" She bluntly asked not wanting sweet chit-chat after the disastrous dinner she had to ate all cause of him.

"To have the reviews of my plants". She waver a little forgetting the deal she thought of a passing strings of words not a serious promise.

"It was good". White lie came out not to say the bitter truth behind his plants he must have grew with hard work yet once again he surprised her by guffawing at her face.

"The lie wasn't good". He criticized making her lips part. "Because I am fully aware bean sprouts are going to taste bitter if not cooked well or someone who doesn't know the right method". Speechless and fool she was feeling. How could he ? if he knew the taste will to be bitter then why gave her ? rather if he clearly knows her dislike towards vegetable why gift her any vegetables in the first place ? was he making a joke out of her ? taunting her by abusing his power of protector ? Fed up by meaningless antics she decided to shut the door at his face but he was faster, better, stronger. Grip it in a second.

"Don't close it". In tranquil manner he looked as if he isn't holding a wooden door by his one hand. "Do not be scared. I am not making fun of you or any sort rather I want to help you love vegetables". Hearing it paused her actions.

"Why ?" Her eyes narrowed.

"Simply because why not". She held her eyes to roll anytime.

"I am sorry but I like the way I am". His eyes twitch a little.

"By the way, have you eaten breakfast ?" Hajime questioned. Still blocking the door by his hand.

"No". She stated shortly. Thud ! the door in rapid speed fling opened, blowing ample air over her face. Her breath hitched and (E/C) look up as fear creep within her by the astonishing power. A power she never came face to face with.

"Sorry about that. Let's now go". Placing his hand behind her back, he gave a little push yet enough to cross the line of her doorstep, the safety of her home, comfort of her trusted four walls before taking her away to the very same awe-struck rooftop. Sitting on one of the wooden seat, he served a dish she ate yesterday night : Moyashi bean sprouts.

"I ate it". In disdain she utter.

"Oh ? really ? well you didn't ate my Moyashi Bean Sprouts". His chest puff in confidence. Sighing she closed her eyes and hold the chopsticks preparing to vomit this time without any restriction however rather than overwhelming bitterness she tasted was sweetness, hint of fresh and soft to chewy hit her. Her eyes wide open delightfully shocked as to ease the doubt she ate more yet the more she ate the longer she begin to adore the taste each time more sweeter, more chewy and better than the previous bite that she forget about the boy sat in front of her who watching the unfolding scene a smile stretch his lips.

"Tasted delicious didn't it ?" Reality wash her from the heaven (Y/N) was indulging. Rightfully she nod. "Indeed it is delicious. I rarely ever enjoy vegetables this much". A tiny smile blossomed earning a breath hitch from Hajime. It was as if his breath stole by the serene person in oppose him.

"Come next day". He blurt out.

"Hmm ?" Her eyebrows frown and the softer look retuned to blank.

"I said come the next day. I want you to eat my cooking again". (Y/N)'s lips parted unable to voice out her question. Why ? why her ? he was the leader of Bofurin and the center of everyone's adoration, anyone would agree to eat to his cooking if he wish to test his cooking skill hell ! his teammates are enough to testify yet her ? why grace her with such kindness ? does he also want something from her alike to Tokusa who wanted her for his collection, Is he wanting her for his amusement ? or to win her fragile heart before ruining. Kindness never come free does it ? not from strangers at least she lessoned still she utter.

"Okay". Watching the brighter of his shining smile showing his canines along his eyes gleam in pleasant. Previous his unnerve statue transforming to comforting, a sign of warmth and more welcoming she desire to deny her heart not tickle. No No, she is not ready for another heartbreak, another commitment that's why she stood up in process raising his brows.

"What happen ?" His smiling gaze falter.

"I am going home. Bye". Hastily she walk to touch the doorknob when a hand block her way. Still keeping her eyes on the door, breathing slowed, time seem to pause. His body lean close, too close to her liking. He bent a little to his ear level and whisper.

"You must come or else I will come to take you". His words was a promise he will fulfill yet not answering she pushed him gently where he did step back and ran away missing the hand waves of upcoming Bofurin boys.

"What happen to her ? did you scare her away ?" Hiragi stare at his friend's smirk.

"Who knows ?" Oddly he sounded content.

"(Y/N) come downstairs !" Confused (Y/N) glance at her phone checking the time 8:00 am then why is her grandma is calling her for breakfast. Nevertheless she drum her feet on the wooden floor, doing little dances and jumps landing in front of grandma.

"Yes". She dragged the s in mischief manner, for some reason in good mood that revolve into five stage of emotions. First shock, second denial, third embarrassment, fourth irritation and fifth anger. "What are you doing ?" She asked Hajime sitting on the sofa comfortably as if it's his house, facing her.

"The little dance and jump was good. Looks like you are in good mood". He bluntly jumped on his comment soaking on her body wrapped in her night outfit, the way her silk shirt hanging loosely that he shame to admit he could see the outline of her breast bouncing along her (F/C) silk peignoir following her thigh shorts baring her (S/C) longs.

"Grandma why didn't you told me he was here ?" Hajime cursed himself mentally snapping out of his submerged thoughts by her loud yell.

"Because he helped us a lot. He was the one who bring us needed ingredients and help to finish our chores" Grandma explained washing the dirty dishes.

"So you betray your granddaughter".

"Yes". Her mouth agape by how fast the aged woman nonchalantly confessed.

"And you ! Why did you come here ?" Hajime amused at her disgruntle attitude.

"I came to take you to eat. Don't you recall my words ?" She knitted her brows before the sentence flash across her eyes.

"You must come or else I will come to take you".

"You were serious".

"Most of the time I am". Irritated she avoid his intense gaze.

"Now go change". A silent second flew and (Y/N) bite her lips, closed her eyes wishing to melt under the ground itself realizing her inappropriate outfit in front of a boy and add to her abash no bra was underneath her night gown.

Swiftly she ran upstairs neglect to seen his crimson hue taint around his face warmly. Soon she find herself back to the rooftop alone next to the said leader serving her yet another meal called Carrot Gyoza. It is also great to taste making her forget it's created from the same vegetables she dislike.

Yet from that day on she for breakfast each day came to his place, trying new dishes involving vegetables one time Renkon, another time Okra Tempura and so on. Slowly she learn to enjoy dishes she never dreamed of even indulging, appreciating the plants, sometime gazing at the sky. Eventually her heart knock to open the lock door to meet him yet the questions stilled of why choose her ? A stranger not even a mutual friend, neighbors, same town people no— they are complete strangers to one another and her answer came to one day.

"Try it. Stuffed bell paper with cheese and vegetables. Try to guess the names". She bite immediately lost in mist of heaven. Flavors twinkling, cruchy pleasant noise to hear as well to chew.

"Cheese, shredded carrot, potato and chicken !" Her eyes snap open as a unknown gleeful smile graced pausing the time for Hajime this time. She looks divine. He thought as his hands reach to cares the softness of her skin, tender of her eyes yet halted in air when caught by (Y/N).

"Wha...." Her question tailed off darting between the hand and his expression. "May I ask you a question ?"

"Y-Yes". For the first time he stutter.

"Why are doing this to me ? Do you by chance—". She gulped the food, found her mouth suddenly dry and the sky dulled. "—pity me ?"

Rather quickly Hajime shake his head desperately. "Of course not. Never ! Since the moment I met you never did I even felt pity for you instead the reason behind I am doing this because you looked so broken, so ruined that I wanted to see how you look when you are happy. I am after your happiness because if you are happy in my presence that means I will be a part of your world, crossing inside your bulit world". Never did she expected this answer yet his eyes were sincere, full of honestly fill her reflection on those turquoise eyes with lips press thin in seriousness.

"Do you like me ?" The words remain unspoken. Frighten by the answer she will receive so she left and he let her.

Returned home, staring at her ceiling she not know what to feel, many emotions toying at the same time diffuclt for her to understand the language of feelings. She once again felt like a girl discovering what romantic love is for the first love.

Moon hanged at the darkness liting it's light amidst the countless stars and (Y/N) sighed admiring the nature's beauty by sitting on their garden backside alone. After stuffed by the dinner she ate, she star-gazed feeling unusually empty.

"Dearest, I have something !" Turning head at her name did her jaw almost fell finding grandpa holding a wine of bottle.

"Grandpa ! It's not good for your health !"

"Shush ! It's going to be alright if consumed little. Here want some ?" He shushed her pouring himself a glass and her. She reluctant sip a little enjoying the taste she rarely drinks for the sake of her good health.

"It's good". He chuckle.

"I knew it ! Because the year is (Y/B/Y)". The (H/C) head girl surprise to know the wine is as old as her birth year. No wonder grandpa kept it preciously because it reminds him of his granddaughter.

From little sipping to entire glass they both shared happily. Time flew like the cold assault of breeze and night remained young. "(Y/N) ! (Y/N) ! (Y/N) !" Rubbing her eyes she look at Hajime's face.

Huh ? What is he doing here ? Her mushed brain questions, unable to control her parts to speak or slurs of nonsense. He held her tightly.

"You are really drunk. Aren't you ?" His melody chuckle dance on the air putting (Y/N) back to sleep yet she stayed awake, a little sober as seconds pass.

"What are you doing ?" He silently jiggle the spare key (Y/N) recently learnt kept under a flower pot. Talk about being foolish.

"Your grandma advise me to use this when I want and I wanted to meet you so I came not knowing.." He point at her blushed face however to (Y/N) his words went over her head only concentraining at her own question she unable to ask.

"Hajime do you like me ?" Suddenly the crickets noises, birds chipering, breeze howls stifled, his usual smiling eyes serious, a heavy tension pungent within the atmosphere. Sliver light descend upon him.

With solemn he spoke. "Yes". Only to be his eyes wide because her fluttering kiss pressed over his. Pupil dilated into little hearts as he kissed back, moving their lips.

A test. A small test (Y/N) presented to trial whether he is after her body by taking advantage of her drunken state to use her or respect her as a human being. She is rather tipsy so fighting for her dignity would not be difficult she hoped if he failed the test.

Still a part of (Y/N) strongly want him to success, to be her dream come true and be her true love albeit they met for few days ago but she knew it was all more than wish because Hajime continue to move their tongues, sucking her little to every saliva like a starved man and filling the gaps between their body by pulling closer. Her chest gaze his, breaths eratic mingling to one another until he pulled away as she decided he failed then he pulled her by the back of her neck.

Confused.

Scared.

Panic plagued her mind for being so foolish to test a man's desire in such weak state. Now how ? How is she going to resist ? She can't fight let alone win ? Yet all the piling questions flee away when a rather tender kiss place on her forehead hitched her breath.

"I am sorry for kissing you in your drunken state. I know you might not even remember it tomorrow but it's my responsibility as both your protector and suitor to not commit an act you may come to regret". With that his fingers slide away along the warmth. He is leaving....? He respect her ?

Because if he didn't he wouldn't go such lengths to help (Y/N) even if it meant to finding series of lame excuses, pestering her, barging inside her house, always cook her meals that must have took time to make, thinks of her opinion, keep a hand on her back to hold her faster if she needs his help when they walk. In all way without knowing her struggles he helps her. Merely for her happiness.

How sweet, how good he is to. Her palm held his moving figure's hand. "(Y/N), please let me go. I might not able to control myself".

"Why ?" Her words slurred. "Because I am girl". She giggle.

"No ! Because you are the girl I like". Warmth flow inside her chest, unlatching butterflies inside her stomach yet she wants to feel the warmth outside too. Warmth of his touch on her body with those huge hands she once feared.

"Don't go".

"I must or—".

"Lose it. Lose all control. I like you too". She whispered following to pull him with her almost no strength and pressed their lips again. "Make me yours". She pressed her lips to his chin, cheeks, nose. Her toes upwards reaching for the man she come to like. Perhaps her haste choices are from the wine's chemical yet she fears to lose this boy.

"You know how to drive someone crazy ? Don't you ?" Gentle his moments are holding her hips and hungrily kissing her lips

Soon in a blur his hands clutch her body in perfect carry with his questions of her bedroom direction and her slur words to point like a child before her back bounce on the soft comforter of bed, the fabric of her home with him looming above her. His statue shadow covered her, shielding her even from the moon light peeking shy in between her shut curtains.

Little dots in darkness dancing her vision was so she blinked, blinked until his hard knot up and down his apple adam and his peaceful turquoise eyes transform into adultery lust. A lust shaping into little cupid hearts the Eros shoot his arrows at humans came to view. Perhaps written in star their encounter was that's why coming to love came as natural as he breaths to live. His will to live was (Y/N). A sweet little sugar drip in his violent life to sweeter the taste.

Perfect the play ended. Perfect the play of good was. Hajime coo at the beautiful girl in his hold, giving herself. He bite back the laugh threatening to pour out of his lips just the simple thought (Y/N) beliving she even has a choice to choose. Never, from the moment they met each other did the naive little love had a choice. At first it was a curiosity to see how Indifference she could be. A sudden urge to peek at her layers of emotion she can express on her face was controlling him until fate served him the chance as the form of that night where they were patrolling at night and caught the wind of her ranging ex begging to be taken back.

Hajime wanted to save her in damsel in distress yet Sakura did quite his job however the next thing happen was entirely blame on (Y/N). The second tears bled those jewel (E/C) eyes. So crystal clear that emotions were conveyed with silence and he listened giving him a reason to be close to her. To fulfill his curiosity to see more her expressions while leaning into her world little by little.

Swear to the heavens and goodness of his heart was falling for her a trick of fate. Falling for those fidgeting fingers, nervous glances, bleaming eyes after tasting the food she liked, unable to hide her heart, tiny smiles blossoming. He never thought a curious wish leads to a dangerous yet beautiful word love at the same time a discover creeped inside his mind. Perhaps it was the hidden demon within him imagining how short life is what if she avert his proposal ? Shy away from his confessions ? Refuse to see him as a lover ? Thus he set a play. The flawless play to catch the love of his life into believing she was giving her hand to him in contrast he was griping her hand all along. An act played in theater pouring emotions to tuck the viewers heart and make them believe the fantasy play real however in his case it's a trap distorting the entire line between a mere play and reality.

And the nail of coffin is the current time he snare the chance to craft her drunken thoughts into love. Twisting those yearning of validation, need of comfort into flutters of love and need of his hold. Ultimately he won. The play ended and curtains closed behind the secret scenes remain buried away. She was his and he—hers.

Rays of golden lit glowed on (Y/N)'s sleeping figure, eyelids flutter like wings of bitterflies to process the warmth of another person snuggling on her. Glancing at her tail of eyes found the boy of her love dreams, in flesh and naked— shameful memories sweep her mind heating those (S/C) cheeks.

"We are in relationship right ?" Insecurity rush in her veins.

"Of course we are". Tense her body became. "You said that out loud sweetheart". He shift closer to her body as he hugged the naked waist of her, tender flesh belongs to him. "You are mine and I am yours. Never in the world would I exchange you for anything". Raspy voice coated honesty.

"You are stuck with me". His turquoise eyes bore into hers, pulling into a slow kiss. "For eternal".

FIN

[casscainmainly]

Race and Perception in Batgirl (2000)

This is a companion piece to my two gender posts on Batgirl (2000). There are many interesting takes on race and Cassandra Cain, but most focus on whether she is a 'racist' character or not. This post is not about that, though I think my stance is fairly clear given what my blog is about. Rather than retreading the same ground of whether the conception of Cass is racist (something I might tackle later, because some arguments are flat-out wrong), I want to look at how race actually plays out in Batgirl (2000).

This post focuses on how Cass' Asian identity influences her views on perception, beauty, and agency. As usual, feel free to disagree as I'm not an ethnic or Asian studies expert.

Mask of the Batgirl

We all know and love Cass' iconic Batgirl costume. Besides its distinctive total-blackness, the most interesting aspect is the full-face mask. She is the only Batgirl to cover her face completely - when Stephanie takes over, one of the first things she does is rip the bottom half off.

Skin and external perceptions don't mean the same things to Barbara and Steph as they do to Cass. Cass' entire life is fraught with not just the male gaze, but the White male gaze - her father, David Cain, films her on video tapes, and Bruce later views these tapes (importantly, Cass herself does not get to). These tapes symbolise how her appearance does not belong to herself, but to external White perceptions.

In issue #1, Batman says the following:

"You... are me." Here, Bruce posits that the full-face mask makes Cass more like Bruce. It functions to hide their racial and gendered differences. By covering her face completely, Bruce (and Cass) tacitly suppress her race. Once again, White men are controlling the way she is perceived, something that began with David Cain and continues with Bruce.

Interiority and Exteriority

A common Asian stereotype is that Asians are mechanical - they have no interiority. The common conceptions of Asians as STEM majors and being emotion-deficient all come from this core belief, that Asians are utilities for White people. For Cass, this belief manifests from Babs, Bruce, and David Cain:

Babs says it's hard to care without knowing what's "going on in her head." She cannot connect with Cass' exterior, and finds it hard to imagine what her interior is like. Even worse, Bruce and Cain both argue that Cass belongs to/is like them, almost treating her as property- they reject Cass' own interiority and project theirs onto her, using her as a tool to extend their own identities.

In the early issues, Cass doesn't have an internal monologue. This somewhat reinforces what Babs, Bruce, and Cain all believe about her interiority. However, in issue #5 a White man gifts her the ability to think in language:

This plot point serves to demonstrate Cass' interiority to the reader, but it is another example of a White person choosing for Cass. She didn't get a choice to be raised without language, and she doesn't make the decision to receive it. Both externally and internally, White people control her narrative.

The Shiva Solution

After her newfound language skills impact her ability to fight, Cass encounters Lady Shiva, her future surprise mother. Shiva is the first one to ever acknowledge Cass' race.

Unlike Cain or Bruce, Shiva doesn't say 'you're like me'; she says, "we're a lot alike." She doesn't map herself onto Cass, but finds something they both have in common. By naming Cass' race ("in terms of our coloring") and framing their similarities in this way, Shiva affirms Cass' difference from White people, while providing an alternative solace: Asian solidarity.

Shiva gives Cass her first real choice. It's not exactly a good choice, and it's somewhat coloured by White perceptions (the idea of 'perfection'), but it's still the first major thing Cass gets to decide for herself. She even frames Shiva's path as opposing "Batman's method;" it's the beginning of her path away from White control, towards racialised agency.

It's no surprise, then, that Shiva is the one that helps Cass over her death wish. Not Bruce, not Babs, but Shiva - a literal and metaphorical link to her heritage.

Another Stephanie Brown Segment

As an integral part of Cass' sexual and gendered awakening, Stephanie of course plays a role in Cass' understanding of race. Moving from Puckett's run into issue #38, Stephanie and Cass have this iconic conversation on the rooftop:

I've written before about how this marks the beginning of Cass' foray into gender and sexuality, but this scene has a different meaning when viewed from a race angle. Stephanie is the quintessential American girl, with blonde hair and blue eyes; additionally, she's sexually and romantically experienced. Cass' own Asian appearance, then, may be causally linked to her lack of experience.

When Stephanie comes back as Robin, we have this moment:

Cass is unable to be perceived as non-threatening, helpful, or friendly, while Steph achieves all this with ease. Beyond the differences in temperament (Cass is definitely the spooky scary type), it's also the difference in costuming - Robin's bright colours and majority-unmasked face make for a friendlier appearance than Batgirl. Once again, Cass is unable to control other people's perceptions of her.

It's notable that the majority of Steph's appearances throughout Batgirl end with her leaving Cass on a rooftop. This happens in issues #38, #53, #54, and of course War Games. Their relationship is consistently tenuous, and I think this contributes to Cass feeling like she'll never belong in Steph's world.

Tai'Darshan Turns the Tide

At this point Cass is in pretty bad straits: no one has ever shown romantic attraction to her, Steph is mad at her, and she still doesn't have a full understanding of her race (bar Shiva, she's encountered no other Asians). This feeling of disenfranchisement from both the White and Asian worlds is a very common experience among third culture Asian kids, particularly mixed-race Asians.

Then comes Tai'Darshan, the second major Asian person Cass interacts with.

He is the first person to show romantic interest in her, and asks to "see [her] face." He wants to see her interiority and her skin - Cass' Asian features are now described as something attractive, something worth seeing.

Where Cass is creeped out by Conner's gaze on the boat, she's not similarly affected by Tai'Darshan. She's beginning to understand racialised dynamics, and finding comfort within other Asians rather than her majority-White friends and family.

Both during the fight with Tai'Darshan and the later fight with Bruce, Cass wears these eye-cut-out masks. The eyes are both the site of perception and the site of Asian racialisation, as the most identifiably 'Asian' part of people's faces. By wearing these kind of masks, she's allowing others to perceive her race, reclaiming racialised perception as an act of choice rather than something imposed onto her.

Choosing

In the final arc of Batgirl (2000), Cass sets out to find Shiva. The decision is spurred by this conversation, where Brenda explicitly asks about Cass' race. Everything has been building up to this acknowledgment of Cass' fuzzy origins, a recognition that the uncertainty around her race impacts her ability to achieve full self-actualisation.

Cass rejects Batman's help on the matter, instead going to Onyx:

By going with Onyx, a Black woman, instead of Bruce, Cass is starting on her journey towards racial solidarity beyond Asian communities.

The abrupt ending to Batgirl (2000) kinda cuts off any definitive arc, but I actually think what we have already paints a solid picture. There definitely is a lot more room for explorations into Chinese culture (Spirit World kinda covers this), Cass' relationship to White proximity, interactions with other Asian characters and more. I think her Asian identity deserves more of a spotlight, and I'm hoping more comics in the future delve into it.

[lizdive]

I was thinking of older sister violet_evergarden!reader who is also a stoneheart x aventurine. I'd like to see how they interact since canonically, violet sees herself as nothing more than a weapon and will do whatever she has to do, to protect the person she cares for. Aka aventurine. I can also sorta see her either being an emanator of preservation or one the stronger stonehearts.

Hi anon :3 !! I love aventurine with my whole heart he’s just so squishy 😞 i had to go to the violet evergarden wiki for this one bcs i’ve never watched the anime so i’m sorry if stuff isn’t accurate this was kinda of difficult for me,, tysm for requesting <3 if you’re unsatisfied just tell me and i’ll redo it!!

notes 𐙚 fem! reader — "you" + "she/her" used to refer to the reader ,, reader as an older sibling ,, reader is based off of violet evergarden from violet evergarden anime ,, reader is an emanator of preservation but it isn’t mentioned much ,, reader is a stoneheart ,, aventurine is referred to as both "kakavasha" and "aventurine" ,, corundum’s are a type of gemstone that is ranked 9 on the toughness scale ,, of course you can change this to the stone of your desire !! this isn’t proofread ignore typos,,

"The hammer of preservation will fall on all beings, regardless of life or death, regardless of race, regardless of ideology, to uphold the basic rights we inherently posses."

The Rising Stars, the Stonehearts, the Gambler and the Soldier Maiden — all nicknames for two siblings who have seen it all. A handsome aventurine and a beautiful corundum. One blessed by HER, and another blessed by THEM.

To be an Emanator is to be seen as a piece of an Aeon — their will so strong that their abilities have been gifted to them by the Aeon. To be an Emanator in the IPC is to be seen as an asset that cannot be lost. And to be an Emanator of Preservation is to be seen as the biggest tool.

With THEIR blessing you have overcome all that life has thrown at you just for the sake of keeping your beloved brother save from harm. From the moment he was brought into this sad world, you have fought to protect him and your younger sister.

Only one of the two made it out alive.

Many people would call you a murderer, and while they technically aren’t wrong, they fail to see why you do it. Or perhaps they do not care. You killed and therefore you should be sent to your own death.

You remember the day when you and your brother were taken by the IPC. A woman clad in luxury, a smirk on her face, and her tone breathy and warm. "As a servant you should not resist your master." she had said, but you did not pay attention for her.

KAKAVASHA did most of the speaking for you. He was free to go — he had no blood on his hands. You were the one to be sent to the gallows. But you couldn’t and wouldn’t. Death was not an option. It never was and never would be until KAKAVASHA lets out his final breath from old age.

You didn’t see what was wrong — you never did. Yes, you killed the man and many more, but it was self defense. KAKAVASHA and you had always lived in a world where it was kill or be killed. Remorse was foreign to you.

And then came the offer. Join the IPC. Join the corporation that was the reason your kind fell and vanished off the map. Become the same as them. You could not care less. Should your brother join, you will, as well. And he did.

By the end of the day you both were clad in luxuries the same as her.

⭑ Missions were always a package deal. Where AVENTURINE goes, Corundum always follows. Where Corundum goes, AVENTURINE is most likely following. There is no separating the two.

⭑ AVENTURINE is very patient with his big sister. He knows that unlike him, she is not able to properly express what she feels. He’ll try to help explain why people feel the things they feel — he’s good at putting up a mask of emotions and to do so he needed to understand them first so he’s good at explaining.

⭑ If you have prosthetic limbs like Violet does and have room for drawings and doodles, AVENTURINE will definitely doodle on your arms during free time. Even if you hide them with your sleeves, it’s a nice pass-time activity. Nobody says anything about it because 1: he is a stoneheart and 2: you’re a stoneheart.

⭑ Will try to get you to be less hyper-independent. Ask him for help, it’s okay. He’ll even try to make you a bit reliant on him. He’s not a little kid anymore, he can definitely help you take out those guys. He’s good with a gun and it’ll finish the mission quicker, just let him do some fighting too,,

⭑ I feel like there could be some heavy angst potential here, especially with the entire aventurine boss fight. You’re so determined to protect him, and you aren’t against killing people to do so. He knows this, and so he tries his damn hardest to hide his plan from you but he’s your little brother your little KAKAVASHA so you know him. You’re not the best at emotions but you know he’s lying and hiding something.

⭑ He accepts death and welcomes it with open arms but he also doesn’t want to leave his big sister alone. His big sister, who has done everything and more to protect him. She had killed, she has been wounded, she has put up with his shenanigans, and she has done the impossible. He feels like he’s just throwing that all away,,,

⭑ You are lost without him when he 'dies'. He is your purpose in life. Helping the Astral Express fight against Sunday? Screw them! You need to find your little brother, there is no way he is dead. You pray to Mother Gaiathra, to Qlipoth, to any Aeon that will hear your prayers, that he is alive.

⭑ And when you find him alive and well in the real world, alone in his room in the reverie hotel, you feel like a dam inside you has bursted. You don’t cry, but you’re close to doing so and AVENTURINE doesn’t know whether to encourage you to let out your emotions and calm your through them or reassure you that he is alright and there is no need to cry.

⭑ On a lighter note: AVENTURINE doesn’t mind if you communicate with him via letters instead of messages when you’re on your own solo missions! He’ll get you the nicest envelopes and stamps to put on them. Maybe even some stickers! He loves when you use the silly ones. If you tell him it helps you understand emotions better, he’ll encourage you to write letters more and for other people. If you use an old typewriter, he’ll get you the nicest one on the market!

⭑ It said in the wiki that Violet feels guilt for killing the people she has killed, so if you also feel that, AVENTURINE will be by your side to reassure you that it’s okay. That it wasn’t your fault and it was needed for survival. He might use the "you were just trying to protect me" card to make you feel better since he knows he’s your weakness.

⭑ Sadly, to make a pledge to never kill anyone again like Violet did would be pretty much impossible. In the eyes of the IPC, violet evergarden! reader will always be a weapon, so it’ll kinda be forced upon her.

⭑ AVENTURINE loves the anxious expressions of the people he’s gambling with as his big sister stands behind him, intimidating the patrons of the casino. It also reassures him because if anyone tries to get violent he knows his big sis will be there to protect him so he can be as reckless and as infuriating as he wants.

⭑ Overall AVENTURINE would be a very good younger brother to a violet evergarden! reader because he fulfills her wish to protect and she fulfills his want to be cherished.

[reanniee]

denial

aventurine x reader

notes: nsfw, smut, oral (female receiving), voyeurism, power imbalance, unhealthy relationship, mention of slavery, mention of sa word count: 2.0k

aventurine is a selfish man, afterall.

aventurine refuses to acknowledge his past. afterall, what use is the past? the only thing important to him now is the future. there is no need to look back on such trivial memories, on such useless moments.

aventurine refuses to acknowledge his past. aventurine has no need for such simple memories, for such simple emotions. so, he ignores and rids of anything that may revive his memories of such a trivial and unimportant time.

though, there is something he cannot bring himself to rid of–you.

aventurine refuses to acknowledge his past. as he keeps you at a strict distance. never too close, yet never too far from him. he makes sure that you are still in his sight, still in his grasp, still in his heart, and still in his life.

aventurine refuses to acknowledge his past. so, he constantly reminds himself that you are nothing more than a bodyguard. nothing more than a mere tool, a mere weapon he has saved and decided to hire.

aventurine refuses to acknowledge his past. so, he constantly tells himself that he does not love you. he needs to repeat it to himself to remind himself of the promise he made.

aventurine refuses to acknowledge his past. so, he is perfectly normal as the young daughter of the corporate boss, whom aventurine and his fellow stoneheart jade are currently negotiating with, approaches, and whispers something into her father’s ears.

he is perfectly normal as the woman blushes as she pulls away, and her father clears his throat, proposing an offer to the two stonehearts.

he is perfectly normal as the old man asks how much it is to purchase the lovely bodyguard by his side. the old man states that he will do any price.

he is perfectly normal as jade laughs whilst he is frozen in shock, unable to respond. she questions the old man’s use of the word ‘anything.’

he is perfectly normal as the old man nods. she laughs again before proposing that, perhaps a night would be satisfactory instead, at the cost of an extra 20%, that is.

he is perfectly normal as the old man looks to his daughter, to where she happily nods her head as the old man sighs, then expresses his agreement to the deal. jade then looks to you, asking if you are alright with the deal.

he is perfectly normal as you look towards him for approval, to where he provides no reaction, as he is perfectly normal. you turn back to jade, pausing a moment, then, you nod, stating that it is alright with you.

there is no reason for him to feel upset. no reason. he is perfectly normal.

he watches as the daughter of the old man seemed to light up, sparking with enjoyment and excitement. he watched as she ran up to you and grasped your soft hands, intertwining them with hers as she pulled you away.

he watches as the old man signed the contract that jade had written up for him, waved the two farewells, then exited the room, leaving the two stonehearts together.

he watches as jade laughs at him, placing a hand on his shoulder and asking if he were truly okay with sending you to that woman. he merely responds with what does it matter to him.

he watches as jade places a hand on his back, as if to console him. he does not need to be consoled. he is perfectly normal. she laughs at him, tells him he is in denial, before departing.

he watches as jade stops just before opening the door, telling him to go to the after party in an hour. it is important to keep up appearances in the ipc, she reminds him. and she warns him to control himself.

why would he need to control himself? jade does not need to remind him. he is aventurine, an esteemed member of the ten stonehearts under the ipc. aventurine has no need for such emotions.

aventurine arrives at the party an hour after his meeting. an hour after the deal was made. an hour after he sold you away. an hour after you left his side.

aventurine forces a slight smile onto his face as he converses with the other attendees at the party. it was a sultry and relaxing atmosphere, the lights dim as drinks were handed out.

aventurine finds himself walking around, scanning the entire room, trying to find where you are. he is stopped by many guests, constantly forced to put on a front and converse where the only thing on his mind is to find you.

aventurine tries his best to hold his composure as he finally spots you. you are with that woman. he watches as the woman pushes up against you, her cheeks flushed, seemingly tipsy.

he watches as the blush on her face grows, her expression morphing and her eyes showing a sense of desire. he watches as she smiles towards you, then grabs your hand and leads you to a secluded area with a couch. he finds himself following you two.

he watches as she pushes your shoulders down, forcing you to sit on the couch as she stands above you. he watches as your face has a slight blush. you must be tipsy, he tells himself.

he watches as she climbs into your lap, straddling your lap and leans into your face. he watches as she is now mere inches away from your face, lips close to touching. he watches as she leans forward, initiating a long and sensual kiss.

he watches as she pulls away after some time, gasping for air. a string of saliva continues to connect you two as the woman breathes heavily, attempting to catch her breath.

he watches as your eyes seem to get cloudy. a hint of desire forming within your mind as you stare up into the woman’s eyes as she breathes heavily. you are drunk, he tells himself.

you are drunk, he tells himself as you quickly flip the woman over, swapping your positions. you are drunk, he tells himself as you hungrily reinitiate the kiss, your tongue diving into the mouth of the woman now underneath you.

you are drunk, he tells himself as you raise your hands, interlocking with those of the woman beside her shoulders. you are drunk, he tells himself as when you pull away, you stare deeply and lovingly into the eyes of the woman who was struggling to breathe in front of you.

you are drunk, he tells himself as you slowly move down the woman’s body, placing kisses along a trail as you move downwards. you are drunk, he tells himself as you stop at her chest, fondling and placing soft, tender kisses at her breasts.

you are drunk, he tells himself as you pause and gaze into the eyes of the woman you are making love to. you maintain eye contact with the woman as you continue to trail down her body, stopping right above her cunt. you are drunk, he tells himself as you softly ask, may i, whilst arousal and need could be easily sensed from your eyes.

you are drunk, he tells himself as the woman shyly nods, to where you immediately rip off her skirt and underwear. you are drunk, he tells himself as you grab the woman’s thighs, spreading them apart as you keep a hand on each leg, giving you full access to the woman.

you are drunk, he tells himself as you dive your face into the cunt of the woman before you, skillfully and tenderly lapping at her insides and seeking her immediate pleasure, just like you were taught back then. you are drunk, he tells himself as you keep your eyes focused on hers, gauging her reaction.

you are drunk, he tells himself as her hands grip the hair on your scalp, begging you to stop as her orgasm was already near, her voice nothing but a crying mess. you are drunk, he tells himself as you refuse, continuing to give the woman nothing but complete and utter pleasure.

you are drunk, he tells himself as the woman releases, moaning out loud and gripping your hair. you are drunk, he tells himself as the woman begs for you to stop as it is too much, she’s too sensitive. you are drunk, he tells himself as he watched you continue to pleasure the woman, riding out her orgasm.

you are drunk, he tells himself as you finally pull away, arms still grabbing onto the thighs of the woman and your eyes continuing to keep direct contact with her. 

you are drunk, he tells himself as you stay there for a moment, watching the woman before you, watching the woman who had struggled to catch her breath, watching the woman who had a deep red flush on her face, watching the woman with small drool dripping from the side of her mouth, watching the woman you made like this.

you are drunk, he tells himself as you rise, placing a knee between her cunt and edging your face closer to hers, laughing as she weakly grips onto your shirt. you are drunk, he tells himself as you tease her, speaking nothing but sweet nothings and praises into her ears.

you are drunk, he tells himself as you kiss the woman before you affectionately. deeply. passionately. lovingly. 

aventurine is a selfish man.

aventurine refuses to acknowledge his past, just like he refuses to acknowledge the current situation in front of him.

he refuses to be with you–he refuses to love you–he refuses to bed with you–he refuses to force himself onto you.

he does not want to reawaken the horrible memories you have sealed away. the horrible memories that must still haunt you. the horrible memories that have left a permanent scar on you forever, both mentally and physically.

he keeps a strict distance between you two as to not inflict more pain onto you. he does this to save you–to protect you; just as he promised he would since the day he freed you. since the day he freed himself.

though, perhaps, just maybe. he does this all to save himself–to protect himself.

he does not need you. he does not care for you. he does not love you. 

he constantly repeats to himself.

he does not want to need you. he does not want to care for you. he does not want to love you.

and yet–despite all he tells himself, despite all he repeats to himself–he loves you greatly, more than he could ever say out loud.

but for your sake–for his sake, he must never tell you his true feelings. he swore to protect you, he swore to save you–he swore to protect himself, he swore to save himself.

he is now aventurine. kakavasha is no more. and aventurine has no need for such simple emotions. aventurine has no need for such simple desires. aventurine has no need for such jealous. aventurine has no need for such love.

so he swallows his pride, swallows his emotions, swallows his love for you–forcing himself to stand there and watch you.

for now, allow him to maintain a slightly smile and a calm expression. for now, allow him to keep up appearances as the esteemed aventurine of the ten stonehearts. for now, allow him to believe that he is perfectly normal. for now, allow him to believe that he does not want you. for now, allow him to believe that he does not love you, for one day he knows that he will break.

aventurine is a selfish man, after all. and he will do whatever it takes to get what he wants.

[ot3]

hey, i only just recently finished bridge to turnabout (the final case of the aa trilogy) and wanted to go back and see your thoughts on godot since personally i have very mixed feelings on him altogether. you can just reply with a link to a post where youve already explained how you feel in more detail (i remember seeing a post where you have but tumblr search function is ass so i cant find the one i was thinking about) or use this as an opportunity to bitch about him if youd like. but i generally think that you have a knack for putting opinions i already have into words perfectly and wanted to revisit ones on him specifically with a new set of eyes now that i finally understand the context behind everything. peace and love ✌🏽

ohhhhh man godot. a lot to unpack there. I feel like for the most part whatever thoughts i've posted about godot have been kind of piecemeal so ill try and put it into something more coherent and comprehensive here. well first of all congrats on finishing the trilogy i hope you enjoyed it!!! bridge to the turnabout is SUCH an excellent case on almost every level but. the writing centered around godot really spoils it and stops it from living up to it's full potential....

i was warned i wasnt going to like godot going in so i was really surprised that up until bttt, i actually did end up liking him! i thought he was hysterical! and i still do. but i really can't Like him because of what the writing centered around him does to the integrity of aa3's arc. I don't like what it does to mia's place in the narrative and I think it undercuts the emotional realism that makes ace attorney's slapstick ass nonsense murders manage to land right. i guess ill address each one of those points on their own?

I don't like what godot's writing does to mia's place in the narrative!

Mia's death is something that's completely within her own agency; it is her own phone call with her own sister, talking about evidence for the case she herself has spent years building, that gets her killed. None of this has anything to do with phoenix. She is no strings attached presented as his mentor figure and I think this dynamic is what prevents Mia's death from feeling like fridging despite it technically being something that has to happen to allow phoenix to take center stage in the upcoming events of the game.

then godot comes in and the narrative he imposes on her death feels like it retroactively turns it into Fridging! I mean 'is this character death the Fridging Trope or the Death of the Mentor Trope' is kind of milquetoast tvropes brained level media critique here but im really using these concepts as a shorthand for the level of agency a female character is allowed to have in her own death, and the degree to which that death is used as a tool for men's emotional development. but anyway the point being that the fact that godot views mia death as phoenix's responsibility is an inherently misogynistic bit of character writing. their power dynamic is such that mia was the one responsible for phoenix's wellbeing if anything, as his boss, his senior, and his mentor; the only reason godot presumes phoenix to be responsible for mia's death is because he a man who was in proximity to her! which fucking suuuucks.

Something I don't see talked about a lot is that godot also has beef with phoenix for being dahlia's stooge, which i think is a MUCH more interesting angle for his character. but that's presented as a separate thing from his feelings about mia's death

Godot: …… I never liked you. Six years ago… …you helped the woman who put me to sleep by hiding her bottle of poison. And then… While I was sleeping… …you let Mia die. But you didn't care. You just kept living your pathetic, happy-go-lucky life. You even had the nerve to follow in her footsteps as a lawyer. I could never forgive you. That's what I thought.

now to be clear i don't think the narrative frames his blaming phoenix as something we're supposed to agree with. Godot has his whole confession at the end where he admits he views himself as responsible for failing to protect her. but it does basically mean that her death stops being something that was About herself and the choices she made and her relationship to her family, and instead becomes About the effect it had on the men in her life. which i really don't like!

NUMBER TWO. I think godot's writing lessens my ability to get emotionally involved in this case

Even within ace attorney's fucking moon logic bridge to the turnabout pushes my suspension of disbelief past its breaking point. I don't care about the pendulum horseshit. I don't care about the ghost possession. I'll accept all of that. What I can't accept is: why does no one EXCEPT godot himself seem to care that this entire murder could have been avoided if maya at any point been warned about it? Misty and Iris just as guilty of this as godot is, but the biggest difference between them and godot is that 1. misty has been a deadbeat for ages and is now just Dead. Her primary established character trait is not talking to her fucking kids. 2. Iris has been working as dahlias accomplice for her entire life and so the idea that she would willingly conceal this has much more legitimacy to me.

We are supposed to accept and sympathize with the idea that protecting maya Actually Was Something He Did. I say were are expected to accept and sympathize with that because phoenix and maya sure do! I guess you could interpret this as them trying to give some comfort to a man that is clearly at the end of his rope and about to be sent to prison.

Phoenix: Y-You're wrong! You put your life on the line to save Maya! Godot: Was it really for Maya's sake...? Even I'm not really sure. [cut some lines for brevity] Godot: You were the one who made me realize my folly. You never ran away from Mia's death. Instead, you picked up where she left off, as a true defender of the people. In that one moment... I understood everything! Phoenix: Mr. Godot... Godot: I think you already know this, but if you don't... My name is... Diego Armando. Maya: M-Mr. Armando! I believe in you! I know you were trying to save me!

then, later on:

Phoenix: (So I guess it's all over... The way everything ended... Was justice really served...? The man who risked his life to save Maya is being sent to prison by my own hand...) Mia: Of course justice was served. Phoenix: M-Mia! Mia: ...I'm proud of you, Phoenix. Your defense was... truly brilliant. Phoenix: B-But I couldn't save Mr. Armando! The man who cared so deeply for you... Mia: You're wrong, Phoenix. You did save Diego. You saved him in the only way possible.

I guess technically godot did risk his life to save maya. and I do like the conclusion that basically being laid bare and brought to accountability like that is what godot needed to 'save' him. but i'm just not sure why the fact that maya was only in danger in the first place due to godot's choices doesn't factor into how phoenix feels about him 'saving' her. I just don't buy it!!!

It lacks the emotional weight that other instances of Avoidable Tragedy in the series have had. Ace attorney is at its best when the relatively grounded emotions are contrasted by the zany impossible crime antics. But i think BTTT is an instance where the emotional realism isnt taken far enough to distract me from the convoluted nature of the actual events that have just taken place. Rather than being so in touch with the characters during this case that i can tap into the Tragedy aspect of 'this didnt need to happen like it did' i just find myself frustrated by the fact that it didn't need to happen like it did. It kind of chafes the whole case for me and at the end I didn't feel any sort of cathartic victory regarding the events that had just transpired. but that was clearly the feeling they were going for

i did enjoy godots for the most part, but i think you'd need to make some serious overhauls to the storyline to have this specific case reach its full potential. it's a good case! but as the end to the entire trilogy i just can't help but resent the fact that it has the clumsiest writing out of any of the individual games' finales. and that everything i disliked about it is attributed to the actions godot took and the reactions other characters had to that.