#and yet the desire to understand and fix everything remains despite it all…

[revacholian-girl-utena]

My soul is puny.

Alt text: Screencaps from Revolutionary Girl Utena with overlaid text. 1: Young Saionji watches in horror as Touga opens the coffin in the church. Text: At the core, you're a very banal person,

2: Closeup of young Saionji clutching his head and screaming. Text: with a very small soul.

3: Closeup of Saionji's empty hands when he drops his sword after hurting Touga. Text: One you should be *ashamed* of.

4: Touga and Saionji's silhouettes as children at kendo practice. Touga is holding Saionji's hand and Saionji is looking up at him. The background is a warm sunset. Text: It's no wonder the soft one doesn't want it back.

5: Touga's silhouette standing by the incinerator. Text: It was right to abandon you... End alt text

[flowerandblood]

The Fall from the Heavens (31)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: sex content, sexual tension, smut, angst, swearing ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

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She couldn't believe it, but the measter left her with no illusions − after weeks filled with fear and prayers, a miracle had happened and she was expecting a child.

She knew it was a blessing from the heavens, that some women waited months or even years for their offspring.

She thought with joy that it was a sign that the gods were supporting them and their cause.

That they also did not desire war.

It seemed to her that, despite everything that had happened, her mother was also reassured and pleased by this information − by the thought that perhaps she would give birth to a son who could be declared heir to the throne and bring a solution that would at least partially satisfy all sides.

The only person who was not pleased by this news was Jace. He was the only one not to congratulate her, and at the common table he pretended not to see her, speaking only to his betrothed.

She realised that their mother, while protecting him all her life, had at the same time weakened him, allowing him to remain immature deep inside while maintaining a semblance of masculinity.

She decided, however, that it no longer mattered.

She eagerly awaited her husband's return, wanting to convey this wonderful news to him in person − she wished to see his reaction and enjoy the moment with him. She gushed with delight when one morning her servant announced that a message had arrived from Harrenhal, hoping that she would read in it when she would see him again.

Her anger at him was now completely passed, replaced by longing and desire to be reunited.

She unrolled the parchment, chewing on the piece of bread she had just had in her mouth, and began to read.

I reached Harrenhal however, unfortunately, I found the fortress empty. Lord Strong escaped with several spies − we are still searching for them. In accordance with your will, I have spared Alys Rivers' life and locked her in her chamber. I cannot predict when I will be able to return to Dragonstone. I ask your forgiveness for not fulfilling my duty as your husband and not being by your side. Aemond

She swallowed hard, feeling a twinge of discomfort and grief in her guts at the thought that the matter was not yet closed and there was no way of knowing when it would be.

The thought of further separation devastated her.

This made her come up with an idea that her mother did not approve of.

"No. You are carrying your child inside you, I will not let you fly to Harrenhal. It's too dangerous." She communicated to her clearly, shaking her head.

She pressed her lips together at her words, feeling her heart pounding fast.

"The journey to Harrenhal is not long. Who would attack me in the sky? My husband has informed me that the fortress is empty. I will be safe there. He is there to prove his loyalty to me and you."

Daemon chuckled at her words, shifting from foot to foot, amused.

"He's fixing something he destroyed himself. If he had said what he knows instead of playing with us, I would have taken care of the matter myself, and Larys Strong's head would have greeted visitors to Harrenhal on a spike." He said coldly, staring at her expectantly. She looked at him in disbelief, wondering if this was what they were discussing then, on the seashore.

Daemon knew of what was about to happen to them and Aemond had thwarted his plans.

She swallowed hard at the thought.

"I…−"

"− I'll fly with you −" She heard Baela's voice and raised her gaze to her, surprised. Jace moved beside her uneasily.

"− what are you doing? −"

"− I've never seen Harrenhal − I'll make sure my cousin got there safely, rest a day or two in the fortress and return to Dragonstone −" Baela said without heeding her betrothed's impatient, furtive gaze.

Rhaenyra pressed her lips together, turning her head away, clearly frustrated that her daughter wanted to leave her family home, which she felt was the safest place possible for her.

"− if you lose this child −"

"− I won't lose it − I'll look out for myself − it'll be easier for me to calm down when I'm by his side knowing what's happening −" She explained, looking at her with a certainty from which her mother sighed heavily.

She and Baela set off before dawn the next day. Her mother hugged her tightly, tears in her eyes at the thought that her child was leaving her again.

"− watch out for yourself − you are my only daughter −" She muttered with regret and pulled away, placing a lingering, warm, tender motherly kiss on her forehead.

She glanced at Daemon, who stood in the distance − he was looking at her with his chin raised high, as proud and filled with mockery as always. He nodded as if he accepted her choice, the fact that she had done what he demanded.

She had made a manly decision with all its consequences.

She was her husband's wife.

Flying in the skies alongside Baela and Moondancer, she wondered why she had never done this before; her cousin's dragoness was as beautiful and agile as Larax, her scales shining wonderfully in the light of the rising sun.

She was grateful to Baela for offering to fly with her − her company calmed her and gave her strength, a sense that she wasn't treating her like a traitor, that she was trying to understand her and help her as much as she could.

She thought with pain that if she had opened her heart to her earlier, they would have been close friends for years.

She hoped in her mind that they would make up for lost time when at last the succession issue would be finally resolved.

When peace would reign.

The journey to Harrenhal on the dragon's back proved to be quick and pleasant − they landed just outside the fortress when the sun was already lazily rising in the sky.

She couldn't stop the wide smile that appeared on her face, the rapid pounding of her heart or the trembling of her hands as she slid from her saddle and saw her husband step out of the stronghold gates to meet them, looking at her from afar.

She felt what she had experienced when she saw him for the first time after eight years then, in the courtyard of the Red Keep, when he was duelling with Criston Cole.

She wanted to run to him, throw herself into his arms and whisper how much she missed him.

This time he didn't turn away, and she didn't hold back.

She laughed as she felt her legs begin to carry her forward on their own, her body filled with warm affection and emotion at the sight of his pain-filled disbelief.

As she fell into his arms, as she smelled his familiar scent again, she felt his hands catch her under her hips and lift her high. She threw her arms around his neck, her legs entwined around his waist as their lips came out to meet each other, locking in a sticky, messy, hot kiss from which they both sighed quietly.

She squirmed when she felt his tongue slide deep into her mouth, rubbing her palate, her walls clenched greedily as his throbbing manhood slapped against her lower abdomen, betraying how great his longing actually was.

She pulled away from him, breathing loudly as he did, wanting to look at him and noticed his hazy, dark gaze filled with desire, his lips, puffy from their caresses parted.

She sighed when his broad hand stroked her head and pressed her forehead against his, only to have their lips join again a moment later in a soft, warm kiss with a loud click of their saliva.

Only after a moment did she remember that she had not come alone.

She grunted quietly, pulling away from him − her husband glanced sideways and furrowed his brow, setting her back down on the ground, clearly unhappy with what he saw before him.

Their cousin stood a few steps behind her, smiling at her uncle with feigned affection and mockery, from which his lips pressed together in a thin line.

"Baela accompanied me on the journey for my safety. Mother did not want me to fly to Harrenhal alone." She said quickly, wanting to calm the situation and what was surely just going on inside his head.

She saw him glance at her quickly at her words, as if surprised. He hummed under his breath and nodded − his expression softened, as if he recognised that this was indeed the right decision.

"I am grateful to you for your sacrifice, cousin. I will order a chamber to be prepared for you." He announced coolly and matter-of-factly − their cousin nodded, still smiling.

She knew she was trying to bring him out of balance, but there was nothing she could do with it.

As one of the servants took Baela to her quarters, her husband looked at her and licked his lower lip with his tongue, as if he was thinking deeply about something.

"− I must speak to you in private −"

"− I need to speak to you too −" She said cheerfully.

She was so eager to share this joyful news with him.

She closed the door behind her as soon as they crossed the threshold of his chamber, ready to tell him, but he grabbed her violently by the shoulder and turned her towards him, slamming her back against the wall.

She squealed when his lips pressed against hers as if he wanted to devour her, his tongue invading deep into her throat with his loud sigh on the edge of pain and relief.

"− w-wait − uncle − I must −" She mumbled as his hand clamped down impatiently on her breasts and his hips began to rub against her stomach − his manhood was all hard and swollen beneath his breeches, and the very thought made her feel the wonderful, familiar wetness between her thighs.

"− were you touching yourself? −" He breathed out into her mouth, as if he was in amok and hadn't heard her words, his hands trailing from her hair, down her neck, to her breasts and buttocks, as if he couldn't decide what he wanted to feel more, what he longed for so much.

"− I − y-yes − gods, Aemond −" She gasped in pleasure as one of his hands slid deep between her thighs − his fingers dug into her womanhood hidden beneath the fabric of her breeches, teasing and squeezing it, making her nipples harden all over with desire.

Only a sigh escaped her lips as he turned her with her face against the wall, his moist tongue running over her thrill-warmed neck, his twitching cock pressed against the place between her buttocks.

"− me too − every day −" He hummed into her ear, untying her breeches with his long, nimble fingers − she involuntarily pressed her cheek against the wall understanding and desiring whatever was about to happen, her fleshy insides clenching desperately around nothing.

"− morning and evening − thinking of this tight little cunt −" He gasped with delight, running his fingertips over her soft, plushy folds as he spoke the words, satisfied apparently that she was completely ready for him.

"− as always sticky and warm for her husband − hm? −" He hummed, sliding her breeches down with a single, sure flick of his hand.

She swallowed hard, feeling her thighs and what was between them being enveloped by the cool air of the room, her heart thumping like mad as she heard him try to deal with the material of his garment behind her back, his hot breath teasing her neck again and again.

"− yes − ah −" She mumbled when she felt him grab her with his arm around her waist and pull her hips closer, forcing her to buck her buttocks and bend over.

Pathetic, helpless moan broke from her throat when she felt how swollen the head of his cock was, with what difficulty he tried to force it between her slick, hot, puffy walls.

"− fuck − fuck −" He exhaled, with impatient thrusts of his hips invading deeper and deeper into her warm core, spreading her open on his fat erection.

She gasped, clenching her eyes shut, trying to keep her balance by leaning against the wall in front of her and fit what he was trying to force into her − she thought in disbelief that it seemed more swollen to her than usual, she could feel exactly every vein of it rubbing again and again the wonderful spot inside her.

"− why is it − so big − o-oh, gods −" She mewled, moaning like a mere whore as he began to pound into her without any warning, opening her wide again and again on his throbbing cock with loud splats of his thighs against her buttocks.

She felt her wetness run down her thighs − she knew he had seen it because she heard his low groan of pleasure.

"− and what do you think − fuck, Rhaenys, I'm not going to pull it out of you tonight −" He breathed out, leaning forward, slamming into her again and again as brutally and quickly as if he'd lost his mind − he leaned one of his hands against the wall just above her head, the other clenching at the same time on her hip, forcing her to take what he was giving her.

She clenched her hands into fists, feeling the tickling, hot sensation building up in her lower abdomen at a startlingly rapid pace, her hips involuntarily beginning to respond to his thrusts, meeting him halfway, clenching around his manhood, refusing to let him go.

Her nipples swelled wonderfully as she felt him press his face against her hair, as if he was drawn to her scent, groaning and panting along with her, thrusting into her so fast and deep that he was hardly sliding out of her.

"− let me, Rhaenys − let me, let me, let me −" He uttered with a heavy breath, and she felt that it was over for her − her body shook with a wonderful, tickling shudder that she felt in her mouth, in her fingertips, in her nipples and in her weeping cunt, which began to suck him inside her in an fulfilment so strong that for a moment she saw darkness before her eyes. She heard his surprised gasp of pleasure, followed by his loud sigh of relief.

She felt his hot seed fill her womb again, his hips rocking inside her for a moment longer, his face pressed into her neck, as if he wanted to prolong this wonderful moment.

They both couldn't catch their breath, panting and quivering, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist, keeping her from slipping to the stone floor.

"− Rhaenys −" He whispered, and she sighed quietly, smiling involuntarily, tired and fulfilled.

"− hm? −"

"− stay wtih me −"

She swallowed hard and pressed her lips together into a thin line, for some reason feeling a squeeze in her throat, a wonderful elation at the thought that he craved her presence so much, that he missed her as much as she missed him.

"− I will, my love −" She hummed and heard him sigh in relief, his lips placing a soft, warm kiss on her neck.

"− what did you want to convey to me? − your mother has another condition? −" He asked reluctantly, as if he didn't want to bother himself with this topic, having her at his fingertips again. She smiled at his question, placing her hand on his arm, with which he embraced her at the waist.

Her heart sang with joy.

"− I'm carrying your child −"

She felt him freeze behind her, his breath caught in his throat.

"− what? −" He muttered, as if he thought he had overheard himself and needed her to say those wonderful words again.

She smiled under her breath feeling that, for the first time in months, happiness and hope filled her. With a soft movement, she grabbed his wrist and gently placed his hand on her lower abdomen, pressing it against her bare skin. She heard him swallow loudly, taken aback in disbelief.

"− you're going to be a father, uncle −" She hummed, turning to face him over her shoulder − her breath caught in her throat when she heard him laugh.

It was not a mocking or cold sound, more an expression of joyful disbelief, there was a warmth and happiness in his gaze from which she felt moved.

She felt the tips of his fingertips dig into the soft skin of her stomach, his lips found hers in a greedy, wet, deep kiss, his half-soft manhood pulsed deep inside her again.

"− Rhaenys − oh gods − this must be a dream −" He breathed out into her mouth, slipping his slick tongue deep into her throat, panting with delight − her walls squeezed him tight with pleasure as she felt him involuntarily begin to root into her again with the tentative, soft thrusts of his hips.

"− then it is a good dream −" She whispered tenderly into his mouth and he murmured loudly, saying no more.

This time, knowing she was expecting his child, he took her to his bed, wanting to look at her face and what he was doing to her, panting into her mouth at how much she pleased him, how well she did, already carrying his offspring in her womb.

He pulled their garments off of them, ripping his eye patch from his face, wanting to be vulnerable with her, wanting to be exposed with her.

She knew what she was to him at that moment.

A dragon egg that had cracked.

As his swollen manhood pushed against her moist slit again, he slid into her with ease, slowly and unhurriedly this time, merely rocking his hips back and forth inside her, making her lips part in delight at how gentle and tender the experience was.

His cheek snuggled into her hair and his face sank into the pillow under her head as if he didn't want her to see the expression on his face, how much pleasure he was getting from this soft intimacy.

They both moaned shyly as he slowly began to accelerate his pace, each time slapping his bare skin against her buttocks − her lips placed soft, butterfly kisses on his bare shoulder and neck, her hands ran down his back and buttocks making his soaked cock pulsate impatiently deep inside her.

"− I've missed you −" She whispered, answered by his low sigh, his hand blindly finding her breast and squeezing it lightly, as if the sensation of that plump, soft structure under his fingers gave him a sense of security and reassured him.

"− me too −" He muttered so quietly that she barely heard him, a lazy smile filled with happiness spread across her face as she closed her eyes and let herself drift off.

When it was all over, her husband, all breathless and sweaty, laid his head on her womb, facing her, looking down at her belly, running the tips of his fingers over it as if he was thinking about what was hiding under her skin.

"− how did you find out? − are you absolutely sure? −" He whispered, as if doubts were beginning to invade him, as if he feared it was too beautiful to be true. She sighed quietly at his words, the smile never leaving her face.

"− I fainted and was examined by the maester − I am sure −"

At her words her uncle furrowed his brow, raising the gaze of his healthy eye at her, his sapphire shone dangerously in the sunlight.

"− you fainted? −"

"− yes − I despaired because I didn't know when or if I would see you again −" She mumbled in embarrassment, combing his long, snow-white hair with her fingers. He closed his eye and murmured contentedly, opening his eyelid again after a moment.

"− if you had only written to me − I would have flown to Dragonstone immediately −"

"− I was afraid my message would fall into the wrong hands − I didn't want to take the risk −"

Her husband hummed at her words.

"− wise girl −"

She smiled, letting him place a warm, moist kiss on the skin of her lower abdomen.

"− I have a gift for you −" He murmured, running his fingers over the hot skin of her stomach. She looked at him, surprised, her heart beating harder in excitement.

"What's it?" She asked, curious.

"I give Harrenhal into your possession. I hand it over to you in my letter, which I have already sent to King's Landing. The fortress is your property until your death. It will then fall as a inheritance to our offspring."

She blinked, twisting in her place, looking at him in disbelief. Seeing that he grinned, she covered her mouth and giggled like a little girl, unable to contain the joy and warmth that spread through her body.

"Do you mean it?" She mumbled, unable to believe that he could do such a thing without consulting his brother and mother.

That he had made this decision alone.

Her husband hummed under his breath, trailing his fingers from her lower abdomen to her chest making goosebumps appear in the places he ran over her bare skin.

"You are your father's daughter. This is your legacy." He replied, his wide hand stroking her belly with a tenderness from which shivers ran through her.

"And my brothers?" She muttered, reminding herself that, after all, her father, although she didn't know him very well, had sons too. Her uncle smirked at her in a way that was disturbing, to say the least.

"I don't give a shit about your brothers." He sneered, making her swallow hard, wrinkling her eyebrows but unable to hide the smile of amusement from which his face lit up.

"You're cruel." She mumbled, stroking his hand lying on her womb with her fingers, softening her words and their overtones in the process. Her husband snorted at her words.

"I am. I am a walking cruelty." He whispered maliciously before he lifted himself on his hands, moving towards her, leaning over her face − his tongue invaded deep between her lips with his hum as his mouth pressed against hers in a loud, sticky, messy kiss.

She squirmed as his fingers slid from her womb between her thighs, warningly beginning to tease and squeeze her sore bud, puffy from earlier caresses and fulfillments.

"− uncle −" She mewled weakly into his mouth, feeling the wonderful tickle in her lower abdomen again, tentatively parting her thighs apart, his half-hard erection slapping impatiently against her belly, demanding her attention.

"− I warned you −" He exhaled, shifting the weight of his body to his elbow, spreading her legs apart with his knee. "− open −"

She obeyed his command obediently and whimpered loudly with exertion as she felt him try to force his long, throbbing manhood into her again with the impatient thrust of his hips.

She threw her head back as he finally broke between her oversensitive, swollen walls, pulsing around him in panic, her short nails digging into the sweaty skin of his back as he began to sink into her again, panting with pleasure.

She felt her moisture mingled with his seed ran down her buttocks.

"− too much −" She mumbled out, moaning each time he teased the sore, swollen spot deep inside her again, trying to pull out of him at the same time and bucking her hips in response to his thrusts, feeling both the discomfort and the wonderful, tickling pleasure shaking her body.

"− shhh − I know − we'll take it slow − there's no reason to rush −" He whispered tenderly, placing comforting, soft, warm kisses on her face, leaning on one forearm, his other hand stroking her effort-warmed cheek, as if trying to give her reassurance.

"− I warned you − I warned you that I wouldn't pull it out of you today − didn't I? − is your husband lying? −" He cooed, as if he were speaking to a small, frightened child. She shook her head, struggling to fit him deep inside her again and again, feeling his thighs hit her buttocks with loud splats of their shared wetness.

"− n-no − no, husband −" She mumbled, looking up at him pleadingly, running her hand over his scarred cheek, her puffy lips parted in heavy breaths. He gasped with satisfaction at her words, pressing his forehead against hers, with slow, deep thrusts making his way to his next fulfilment.

"− just like that − let me do my duty to my wife − as many times − ah − as necessary −" He exhaled, quickening his pace, swollen and already completely hard deep inside her, slamming into her with greedy, sure thrusts from which she felt like she was losing touch with reality, the chamber around them, the bed she lay on seemed blurred to her, she could only smell his scent, only feel the strong grip of his hands.

"− g-gods, Aemond −’" She mumbled out, feeling the way his bare chest pressed against hers with his low groan of satisfaction, her nipples rubbing against his exposed skin with his every push making his cock pulsate aggressively inside her with pleasure, intensifying her sensation.

She gasped when she felt him grab her thigh and lift her leg higher, putting her knee on his shoulder, pulling her closer to him.

"− uncle, what are you − o-oh, fuck, uncle, uncle, uncle, uncle −" She whined out, tilting her head back with her lips parted in disbelief, her eyes closed with her loud, shameless moans as she felt him like never before, his entire length pressing wonderfully against a place inside her with each of his thrusts, from which her body quivered all over with pleasure, writhing before him.

Nothing more than a babble and a plea left her lips as he watched her in awe, not slowing his pace, placing hot, sticky kisses on her knee, stroking her thigh with his wide hand, panting loudly along with her.

Something like a smirk of satisfaction flashed across his face as she threw her other leg over his shoulder on the other side of his head, his body leaning over her in such a way that she could in no way escape his brutal thrusts, which again and again teased the intensely oversensitive spot inside her.

"− I can't − I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't, p-please −" She cried out, but her husband didn't stop, bringing her to a state where pleasure different than usual took her speechless − she felt a sudden, wonderful relief, her walls began to squeeze and suck him inside her, she heard him hiss quietly, clearly feeling what she was feeling.

He groaned low as he came a moment later, clenching his eye, panting hard and swallowing loudly as he looked down at the sheets beneath them, under which a huge wet spot had formed.

"− did I hurt you? or the baby? −" He exhaled horrified, thinking that perhaps she had miscarried due to his brutal treatment, however there was no blood after all. She shook her head, rising on her elbow, struggling to collect her thoughts, panting loudly, her body quivering all over.

"− no − b-but − this time − it was different − I mean − my fulfilment was different − and then I felt...this −" She muttered in shame, feeling that her whole buttocks were wet. Her uncle swallowed hard at her words, embarrassed, his lips tightened into a thin line as he looked at their sticky bodies.

"− I − I think I read about it − in one of the books −" He said uncertainly and grunted softly, sliding out of her gently with a click of their shared wetness. She hissed quietly, pulling away and noticed a large, colourless stain under her buttocks, as if someone had poured water there.

"− the maester wrote in it that a woman is also able to − well − come as well as a man if she is properly… teased inside −" He hummed, licking his lower lip involuntarily, looking at the stain beneath them as if he was proud of his achievement.

She raised her eyebrows in amusement and giggled involuntarily, feeling some kind of relief.

"− what kind of books do you read, uncle? − what would your mother and Ser Criston say? −" She sneered, smiling broadly. Her husband threw her a frustrated look, which however softened after a moment, his grimace turning into a mischievous smirk.

"− in the same book I also read about this position − after I became your husband I began to delve into the mysteries of these…sensations − what else can I do with you −" He murmured, running his index finger along her thigh, a glint of satisfaction and contentment in his eye from which she sighed heavily.

She leaned back and made herself comfortable on the bedding, shifting her body closer to him so that she wasn't lying on a wet spot. Her uncle leaned on his elbow, watching her intently in silence − they stared at each other for a moment, with only the rustle of leaves and birdsong outside the open window around them.

"− I'd like to rest now −" She muttered, running her knuckles over his bare chest. Her husband hummed quietly under his breath and nodded, his broad hand stroking her head.

"− sleep − rest after the journey −" He murmured, combing his fingers through her hair the way he had when they were children. She closed her eyes and purred softly when she felt him lay his head beside her, his gaze on her face, his warm breath enveloping her cheek as his free hand covered their naked bodies with warm furs.

"− do not fret − your husband is by your side now −"

_____

Author note: Those who were to know know. I promised you, didn't I? Hehehe. 👀👀👀👀👀

[songbirdseung]

young love 2 / nishimura riki

read part one here 🤍

synopsis: she fell first but he fell harder type of scenario. ANGTSY

warnings: jealously, one sexual innuendo and suggestive part with hoon (but no smut) btw this takes place in college time

wc: 6.6k

"hey, you've been avoiding me all day. Is everything alright, babe?" Mina settled down beside Riki, who sat lost in thought, facing the beach. Unaware of her presence, he was entirely focused on the crashing waves, the chilly breeze, and the swirling thoughts in his mind. "Riki?" She called out again, giving him a gentle nudge. Finally snapping out of his trance, he turned to his girlfriend, apologizing and asking her to repeat what she had said. "Are we okay? Or more importantly, are you okay?" She remained oblivious to Riki's growing feelings for YN, unable to connect the dots. However, Riki knew he couldn't break her heart with such information, especially during what was supposed to be a joyful trip. So, he concocted a white lie, reassuring her that he would be fine.

mina studied riki's expression, a hint of concern lingering in her eyes as she waited for his response. riki forced a smile, masking the turmoil churning within him as he reassured her with a nod.

"yeah, babe, everything's fine," he replied, his voice steady despite the tumult of emotions raging beneath the surface. "just got lost in my thoughts for a moment there, but i'm okay now."

mina's features softened with relief, a smile gracing her lips as she reached out to squeeze his hand gently. "okay, just making sure," she said, her voice warm with affection. "you know i'm here for you if you ever need to talk, right?"

riki's heart swelled with gratitude for mina's unwavering support, but a pang of guilt tugged at his conscience as he realized the depth of the lie he had just told her. he knew he couldn't burden her with the truth, not when it threatened to unravel the delicate balance of their relationship.

"yeah, i know," riki replied, forcing himself to meet mina's gaze with a reassuring smile. "thanks, babe. i really appreciate it."

with a sense of unease lingering in the back of his mind, riki pushed aside his inner turmoil, determined to make the most of their time at the beach and protect mina's heart at all costs. but beneath the facade of calm, the storm of conflicting emotions continued to rage, leaving riki adrift in a sea of uncertainty.

unbeknownst to them, you sat a few feet away, nestled in one of the beach chairs, solitary. Your sole desire was to relish the view while immersing yourself in music until Mina settled beside Riki. You couldn't deny the effect they had on you anymore, though a small part of her still pondered the possibilities of what could have been. But now you had Sunghoon—shouldn't that be enough to make you happy?

"jeez, yn, you're such a dunce," you muttered to yourself, your voice barely audible. you removed your earphones and shut your eyes tightly, attempting to divert your thoughts from what might have been. "well, maybe not entirely stupid… okay, sometimes," sunoo's voice interrupted from behind, causing you to jump slightly. he chuckled at your startled reaction before settling down next to you, inquiring about the whereabouts of your significant other. you gestured in the direction where sunghoon, jake, and a few strangers were engaged in a game of beach volleyball. "so, why are you sitting here alone? and conveniently positioned just a few feet away from riki and mina?" sunoo probed further.

you shrugged, offering a weak smile to sunoo. "just needed some time alone, i guess," you replied, your voice tinged with a hint of melancholy. "and as for the seating arrangement, pure coincidence, i assure you."

sunoo raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical yet understanding. "right, coincidence," he echoed, a playful glint in his eyes.

sunoo's smile gradually faded into a serious expression as he fixed his gaze on you. "don't tell me you still have feelings for him, yn. i thought we were past that," he remarked, his tone tinged with concern.

you shook your head and let out a sigh, feeling the weight of his words pressing down on you. "it's not like i have feelings for him, i don't," you clarified, but then added, "but you can't blame me for occasionally wondering about the alternative possibilities or outcomes that could have been, sunoo."

deep down, all you truly desired now was sunghoon. you loved him dearly, but riki, your first young love, remained a lingering presence in your thoughts, a part of your past that refused to fade away.

"i get that, but instead of being so dramatic—" sunoo began, but you cut him off with a playful jab. "as if you're not dramatic as fuck, you're the drama queen in this friend group," you teased, earning a chuckle from sunoo as he playfully slapped your arm.

"shut up and listen," sunoo continued, his tone more serious now. "stop dwelling on the past. stop thinking about those things and start focusing on the future. a future where you find peace of mind, whether you're in a relationship or not."

he flicked your forehead lightly, a playful gesture before offering you the chance to join jake and sunghoon in a game. with a nod, you accepted his invitation, grateful for his words of wisdom and the distraction of spending time with your friends.

that's precisely what you ended up doing, making your way over to sunghoon's team with a gentle nudge from sunoo, who seemed determined to reunite you with your beau. as you joined their side, sunghoon greeted you with a sweet kiss on the forehead, causing a blush to rise to your cheeks.

"why's your forehead all red, baby?" sunghoon inquired with a playful grin, prompting you to sheepishly recount sunoo's teasing antics. your boyfriend chuckled at the anecdote, releasing you to join the game.

"get a room, damn!" jake's voice rang out from the opposite side of the net, his playful jab accompanied by a smirk. "ready to lose, yn?" he taunted, a competitive glint in his eye as he prepared for the match.

you chuckled at jake's playful taunt, feeling the familiar rush of competitiveness coursing through you. "lose? not a chance, jake!" you retorted, matching his competitive energy with a grin of your own.

with the game about to begin, you took your position on the court, feeling the warm sand beneath your feet and the anticipation building in the air. sunghoon flashed you an encouraging smile before the match started, his unwavering support giving you an extra boost of confidence.

as the game progressed, laughter and friendly banter filled the air, each point won or lost accompanied by cheers and groans from both teams. despite jake's confident taunts, your team managed to hold your own, each player contributing their skills and teamwork to keep the game tight.

in the end, it was a close match, with both teams giving it their all until the very last point. but as the final point was scored, your team emerged victorious, erupting into cheers and high-fives as you celebrated your hard-fought win.

"another round? maybe with riki this time?" sunghoon suggests, glancing behind at the couple. everyone nods and calls riki over, along with mina.

"oh, come on, riki! join us, it'll be fun," jake calls out, waving riki over with a grin.

riki hesitates for a moment, exchanging a glance with mina before standing up and making his way to the group. mina follows closely behind, a slight frown creasing her brow.

as riki joins the circle, the atmosphere shifts slightly, a subtle tension hanging in the air. you can't help but notice the awkwardness between riki and mina, wondering if anyone else has picked up on it.

as the game begins, you can't help but feel the weight of the unresolved tension lingering in the air. every interaction between riki and mina seems strained, their once easy rapport now marred by unspoken words and lingering doubts.

despite your efforts to focus on the game, your mind keeps drifting back to the uncomfortable situation unfolding before you. it's clear that something is amiss, but no one seems willing to address the elephant in the room.

as the game progresses, you can't shake the feeling that this outing, meant to be a fun-filled day at the beach, has taken an unexpected turn. and with each passing moment, the tension threatens to unravel the fragile bonds that hold your friend group together.

in the midst of the game, your attention scattered, you fail to notice the volleyball hurtling towards you. suddenly, both sunghoon and riki spring into action, moving at lightning speed to shield you from the incoming ball. sunghoon reaches you first, his arms wrapping around your waist protectively as he checks if you're alright.

"are you okay, yn?" he asks, concern etched into his features as he holds you close.

you nod, reassured by sunghoon's presence, but your gaze flickers to riki, who stands nearby with a nonchalant expression. despite sunghoon's awareness of riki's proximity, he brushes it off, focusing solely on ensuring your safety.

"thanks, sunghoon," you murmur gratefully, offering him a small smile.

meanwhile, riki rolls his eyes at the scene, a hint of annoyance flashing across his face before he turns away, seemingly unbothered.

as the game comes to an abrupt end, jake takes the initiative to diffuse the tension, suggesting that it's time for dinner despite the sun still hanging high in the sky. his words break the awkward atmosphere, prompting everyone to agree with a collective sigh of relief.

"yeah, let's call it a day," sunghoon chimes in, shooting a reassuring glance at you.

as the group begins to disperse, mina's gaze lingers on riki, her brow furrowing with realization. it dawns on her that riki's peculiar behavior may be more than just casual indifference — perhaps, deep down, he harbors feelings for you.

"you like her, don't you?" mina's voice cuts through the tension, her words hanging heavy in the air as everyone turns to look at riki.

riki freezes, caught off guard by mina's direct question. his cheeks flush slightly as he meets her gaze, unable to form a coherent response in front of everyone.

the atmosphere grows uncomfortably silent as the weight of mina's words sinks in, casting a shadow over the group. you exchange a glance with sunghoon, both of you unsure of how to navigate the sudden awkwardness that has enveloped the once cheerful gathering.

-

in yuna's room, the tension from the beach outing still lingered in the air like a heavy fog. yuna paced back and forth, her frustration evident in every movement.

"she's so dumb, why would she say that with everyone there?! she could've just talked to him in private, gosh, i knew i never liked her," yuna exclaimed, her voice laced with anger and disbelief.

you reached out to your best friend, trying to soothe her frayed nerves. "hey, maybe she was just in shock, in realization, yun. calm down," you urged gently, hoping to diffuse the situation before it escalated further.

yuna huffed, her agitation not yet subsiding. "but still, it's such a personal thing to bring up in front of everyone. poor riki must feel so embarrassed," she lamented, sinking onto her bed with a frustrated sigh.

you nodded in understanding, sitting down beside her. "i get it, it wasn't the most tactful move on mina's part. maybe she just didn't think before speaking," you suggested, trying to offer a different perspective.

yuna sighed, running a hand through her hair. "i just hate seeing riki like this. it's obvious he's struggling with his feelings, and mina's comment probably didn't help," she said, her voice softer now, filled with concern for her friend.

"i know, but maybe this will be a wake-up call for him to confront his feelings," you offered, trying to find a silver lining in the situation.

yuna nodded, her expression thoughtful. "you might be right. i just hope things don't get even more awkward between them," she said, casting a worried glance towards the door as if expecting riki or mina to walk in at any moment.

yuna suggests that you talk to riki, to make him realize that it's too late now and he needs to get over these feelings he developed for you.

you consider her suggestion carefully, knowing that it might not be an easy conversation to have. but you also understand the importance of addressing the situation before it becomes even more complicated.

"yeah, maybe you're right. i'll talk to him," you agree, steeling yourself for the inevitable awkwardness that lies ahead.

yuna gives you a supportive smile, grateful for your willingness to help. "i know it won't be easy, but i think it's for the best. riki needs to understand that life moves on, and dwelling on what could have been will only hold him back," she says, her tone hopeful yet firm.

with yuna's encouragement, you resolve to have the difficult conversation with riki, hoping that it will help him find closure and move forward.

after discussing, you decide that it might be best to give riki some time to process everything before broaching the subject with him.

"i think you're right, yuna. i'll give riki some space for now," you say, nodding in agreement with your friend.

yuna nods in understanding, appreciating your decision. "that sounds like a good plan. let him come to terms with everything on his own terms," she says, her tone thoughtful.

with a shared understanding, you and yuna leave the conversation at that, knowing that confronting riki about his feelings is a delicate matter that requires careful consideration and timing. for now, all you can do is wait and hope that he finds the clarity he needs to move forward.

after a while, yuna decides it's time for you to head back to your shared room with sunghoon. as she closes the door behind you, she can't resist making a few suggestive jokes.

"alright, lovebirds, time for some alone time," yuna teases, winking mischievously as she sends you off.

you chuckle at her playful banter, shaking your head as you walk towards your room where sunghoon is waiting for you, already out the door. just before you reach him, yuna calls out one last joke.

"remember to keep it pg-13, we don't want to hear any wild noises," she adds with a laugh, causing you to blush and sunghoon to raise an eyebrow in amusement.

you enter the room, trying to stifle your laughter from yuna's playful remarks. sunghoon looks at you with a bemused expression, clearly curious about what transpired outside.

"what was that all about?" sunghoon asks, a smirk playing on his lips as he approaches you.

you shake your head, still grinning at yuna's antics. "oh, just yuna being her usual cheeky self," you reply, trying to downplay the situation.

sunghoon chuckles, wrapping his arms around you. "well, now that we have some privacy, what do you say we make the most of it?" he suggests, his voice low and suggestive as he leans in closer.

you feel a rush of excitement at his words, your cheeks flushing with anticipation. as you lean in to kiss him, you can't help but be grateful for the playful banter that brought you both closer together.

-

the next morning, you feel a gentle nudge as sunghoon wakes you up, his warm smile greeting you as you open your eyes. hovering over you on the bed, he leans in, and you plant a soft kiss on his nose before stretching lazily.

"good morning, sleepyhead," sunghoon says affectionately, his eyes sparkling with fondness.

you return his smile and sit up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. sunghoon gives you a quick peck on the cheek before getting up to let you get ready.

downstairs in the kitchen, you find riki sitting with sunoo and jungwon, engaged in a lively conversation. you offer them a warm greeting as you join them, feeling the pleasant buzz of morning chatter fill the room.

"good morning, everyone," you say cheerfully, exchanging smiles with the group.

while you're carefully arranging sunghoon's cereal with fruits, jake shuffles into the kitchen, his eyes still heavy with sleep. spotting you, he does a double-take and then lets out a surprised gasp.

"whoa, what's that on your neck?" jake asks, his voice laced with sleepy confusion.

you freeze in your tracks, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment as you realize what he's referring to. jungwon stifles a laugh at jake's sleepy shock, while sunoo and sunghoon exchange surprised glances.

riki, sitting nearby, seems to pretend not to notice, focusing intently on his breakfast.

you meet riki's gaze briefly, a pang of guilt washing over you as you remember your plan to talk to him soon.

sunghoon, catching on to the situation, jokingly scolds jake. "hey, jake, mind your own business!" he says with a playful grin, trying to lighten the mood.

amidst the light-hearted banter, sunghoon shoots you a knowing look, silently asking if you're okay. you offer him a reassuring smile, silently thanking him for his understanding.

jake, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, seems to realize the awkwardness of his comment. "oops, sorry, didn't mean to pry," he mumbles sheepishly, retreating slightly.

you nod, grateful for his apology, and continue with your breakfast preparations, trying to shake off the embarrassment. sunghoon steps in to help, smoothly diverting the conversation to a more neutral topic.

as the atmosphere in the kitchen lightens, you exchange a glance with riki once more, silently acknowledging the impending conversation that hangs between you.

with breakfast finally ready, everyone gathers around the table, the earlier awkwardness dissipating into the background as laughter and chatter fill the air.

after breakfast, you and sunghoon take on the role of "parents" of the group, tackling the dishes together as the others relax or continue with their morning routines. the warm water and soapy suds provide a soothing backdrop as you work side by side, the clinking of dishes filling the air.

as you scrub away at a stubborn stain, sunghoon glances at you, a serious expression crossing his face. "hey, yn, now might be a good time to talk to riki," he says gently, his voice barely above a whisper over the sound of running water.

you pause, considering his words, knowing that sunghoon is right. it's better to address the situation sooner rather than later, especially before any more awkwardness arises.

nodding in agreement, you steel yourself for the conversation ahead, grateful for sunghoon's support and understanding. with a shared determination, you and sunghoon finish up the dishes and then make your way to find riki, ready to finally have the difficult but necessary conversation.

riki was alone, engrossed in a video game when you approached him, quietly taking a seat beside him. his fingers paused on the controller, and you could sense the tension radiating from him as you spoke up.

"hey, riki… can we talk?" you ask softly, your voice carrying a mixture of concern and determination.

riki's eyes flicker with uncertainty as he turns to look at you, his expression guarded. he hesitates for a moment, clearly apprehensive about what the conversation might entail.

"yeah, sure," he replies, his voice slightly shaky as he sets the controller down and turns his full attention to you.

as you and riki sit together, the weight of the impending conversation hangs heavily in the air. you take a deep breath, steeling yourself for the difficult words you know you need to say.

"riki, i… i need to talk to you about something," you begin, your voice trembling slightly with emotion. "i'm sorry… i know you have feelings for me, but… i don't feel the same way anymore."

riki's expression falls, his shoulders slumping as your words sink in. "i… i understand," he replies softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "i'm sorry, yn. i should've realized my feelings for you sooner… i regret rejecting you before."

you shake your head, feeling a pang of sadness at the pain in riki's eyes. "it's not your fault, riki," you say gently, reaching out to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. "we were just meant to be friends… childhood friends who grew apart romantically."

riki nods, his gaze dropping to his lap as he struggles to find the right words. "i should've tried harder… i should've fought for us," he murmurs, his voice thick with regret.

you offer him a sympathetic smile, squeezing his shoulder gently. "it's okay, riki," you assure him. "we both made mistakes… but we can't change the past. we need to focus on the relationships we have now, separately."

riki nods again, a sense of acceptance settling over him as he looks up to meet your gaze. "yeah… you're right," he says quietly. "i'm sorry for everything, yn."

you nod in return, a weight lifting off your shoulders as you both come to terms with the situation. despite the sadness of the moment, there's a sense of closure in knowing that you can move forward as friends, each on your own path towards happiness.

as they finish talking and discussing the future of their friendship, they share a heartfelt hug, a silent understanding passing between them. just as they begin to pull away, mina walks into the room, her expression apologetic.

"hey, sorry to interrupt," mina says softly, her eyes filled with sincerity. "i just wanted to say that i didn't mean to cause any awkwardness yesterday. my intentions were genuine, i promise."

riki and you exchange a glance, a flicker of relief passing between you at mina's words. "it's okay, mina," you say with a warm smile, genuinely touched by her sincerity. "we understand."

riki nods in agreement, his expression softening as he looks at mina. "yeah, we know you didn't mean any harm," he says, his voice filled with reassurance.

mina lets out a relieved sigh, a weight lifting off her shoulders as she smiles gratefully at her friends. "thank you for understanding," she says, her voice tinged with relief. "i'm really glad we can move past this."

with a sense of resolution in the air, the three friends share a brief but meaningful moment of understanding, each grateful for the bond of friendship that binds them together.

-

as they wandered through the bustling streets, the group took in the sights and sounds of the city, their laughter echoing off the walls as they recounted funny stories and shared inside jokes.

"hey, jungwon, are you sure we're going the right way?" sunghoon teased, earning a playful shove from jungwon.

"of course i am! i've got a great sense of direction," jungwon retorted with a grin.

sunoo jumped in with his signature humor, "yeah, if by 'great sense of direction' you mean getting lost every five minutes!"

the group erupted into laughter, with yuna adding, "well, at least we'll have an adventure!"

riki, who had been quiet earlier, chuckled softly, finally joining in on the fun. "yeah, who needs a map when you've got jungwon?"

jake, always quick with a witty remark, quipped, "yeah, he's our own personal compass, leading us in circles!"

the banter continued as they strolled through the colorful streets, each joke and comment bringing them closer together. despite the occasional wrong turn and detour, they knew that as long as they were together, every moment would be an adventure.

reaching a park with various attractions and things to do, you spotted something that reminded you of your childhood. with a grin, you grabbed riki's arm and pulled him over to take a look.

"hey, remember this?" you said, pointing excitedly at the familiar sight.

riki's eyes lit up with recognition, and he chuckled as memories of your childhood flooded back. "yeah, i remember. you were terrible at this game," he teased, nudging you playfully.

you rolled your eyes, laughing along with him. "hey, i wasn't that bad! besides, i bet i can beat you now," you challenged, a competitive glint in your eye.

riki smirked, accepting the challenge. "oh, it's on," he declared, leading the way to the game booth with a playful grin. as you both stepped up to the challenge, the friendly rivalry between you reignited, sparking laughter and camaraderie as you competed against each other just like old times.

next, the group dispersed into two teams, with you and riki finding yourselves on opposing sides. as the game began, the competitive spirit ignited once again, with each team determined to come out on top.

with laughter and friendly banter filling the air, the group watched eagerly, cheering on their respective teammates and teasing each other mercilessly at every missed shot or fumbled move. sunghoon's infectious laughter echoed through the park as he cheered you on, while jake couldn't resist poking fun at riki whenever he made a mistake.

later, the group found themselves deciding what to eat, so they headed to the mall, hoping to satisfy their hunger with a variety of options. However, their plans hit a snag as they found themselves once again getting lost, courtesy of Jungwon's questionable sense of direction.

"Jungwon, are you sure we're going the right way?" Sunghoon asked with a chuckle, glancing around at the unfamiliar surroundings.

Jungwon scratched his head sheepishly. "Uh, well, I thought so, but maybe not," he admitted, his expression sheepish.

Sunoo couldn't resist chiming in with a grin, "Looks like we're taking the scenic route again!"

Yuna laughed, shaking her head. "Maybe we should invest in a GPS for Jungwon," she joked.

next, they reached the mall, and as they waited for everyone to order at the diner, sunghoon and riki found themselves drawn to the claw machines and booths in the retro-designed diner. amidst the flashing lights and nostalgic ambiance, they shared a quiet, one-on-one conversation.

sunghoon leaned against the claw machine, his gaze thoughtful as he spoke. "hey, riki, i just wanted to say that there's no bad blood between us, you know?"

riki glanced up, surprised by sunghoon's sincerity. "yeah, i know. i appreciate that," he replied, a hint of gratitude in his voice.

sunghoon continued, his tone gentle. "i know things might be a bit awkward because of… well, you know," he gestured vaguely, referring to riki's feelings for yn.

riki nodded, understanding. "yeah, i get it. but i want you to know that i'm really happy for you and yn. you guys deserve each other."

sunghoon smiled, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. "thanks, riki. that means a lot," he said, grateful for riki's understanding.

as they continued to chat, the tension between them eased, replaced by a sense of camaraderie and mutual respect.

"hey, riki, i get it. it's not easy to just switch off those feelings," sunghoon said sympathetically, placing a reassuring hand on riki's shoulder. "but you've got to try to move forward. you know, there's this saying: 'the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.'"

riki chuckled weakly, appreciating sunghoon's attempt at lightening the mood. "yeah, i guess you're right. but what if i just can't seem to shake these feelings?"

sunghoon nodded understandingly. "it's tough, i know. but you've got to focus on what's in front of you. mina is a great girl, and she really cares about you. don't waste the chance to get to know her better and appreciate what you have with her."

riki sighed, knowing that sunghoon was right. "yeah, you're right. thanks, sunghoon. i needed to hear that," he admitted gratefully.

sunghoon gave him a supportive smile. "anytime, buddy. just remember, you're not alone in this. we're all here for you." with that, they shared a brief, understanding nod, knowing that even though the road ahead might be tough, they would face it together as friends.

as riki and sunghoon triumphantly emerge from the claw machine area, each clutching a plush toy in their hands, their faces light up with excitement. with a shared grin, they make their way back to the rest of the group, eager to show off their prizes.

"check it out, guys! look what we won!" sunghoon announces proudly, holding up his prize—a penguin with a big, friendly smile.

riki joins in, brandishing his own victory—a cute fluffy baby chick. "and look at this beauty! who's the claw machine champion now?"

jake chuckles, giving them both a playful pat on the back. "yeah, seriously, well done! maybe you should start your own claw machine championship league."

sunghoon beams with pride as he presents you with a cute penguin plush, his eyes sparkling with affection as he watches your delighted reaction.

"here you go, babe," he says softly, placing the plush in your hands. "a little something to remember this day by."

you can't help but smile back at him, touched by his thoughtfulness. "thank you, sunghoon," you reply, leaning in to press a gentle kiss on his cheek. "i love it."

meanwhile, riki playfully teases mina, pretending to keep a tight grip on the chick plush he won, much to her amusement. "hey, hands off, riki!" she laughs, attempting to wrestle the toy from his grasp.

riki grins mischievously, holding the plush just out of mina's reach. "sorry, babe, but this little guy is mine," he teases, feigning innocence as mina gives him an exaggerated pout.

with a playful roll of her eyes, mina gives riki a gentle shove. "fine, keep it then," she says, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "but you owe me one."

riki chuckles, relenting as he hands over the plush to mina. "of course, anything for you," he replies, leaning in to press a sweet kiss on her forehead.

as the group shares in the lighthearted moment, laughter filling the air, sunghoon wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. you lean into his embrace, feeling grateful for the love and laughter that surrounds you.

as they enjoy their meal, riki leans over to mina with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "hey, mina, what do you say we pretend to propose to each other so we can get free dessert?" he suggests, a playful smirk playing on his lips.

mina stifles a laugh, shaking her head at his antics. "as tempting as that sounds, i don't think i want to get proposed to at a random retro diner," she replies, a hint of amusement in her voice.

sunoo chimes in from across the table, his tone teasing. "yeah, i don't think that's quite the romantic setting you're looking for, mina," he quips, earning a chuckle from the rest of the group.

riki shrugs, still wearing a playful grin. "hey, it was worth a shot, right?" he says with a wink, before digging back into his meal. the group shares a laugh at his antics, enjoying the light-hearted moment as they continue to savor their time together.

sunghoon chuckles at riki's failed attempt, then a mischievous glint sparkles in his eyes as an idea forms. "hey, why don't we pretend it's yn's birthday? they'll definitely give us free dessert for that!"

yuna raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. "but what if they ask for id? i doubt they'll believe you're turning twenty-one again," she teases, glancing at sunghoon with a playful glimmer in her eyes.

sunghoon laughs, waving off yuna's concern. "don't worry, we'll just tell them we left yn's id back at the beach house," he replies, confidence lacing his voice.

you furrow your brows in confusion as the conversation steers toward the topic of dessert. "what's with you guys and dessert?" you inquire, looking around at the group with a bemused expression.

jungwon grins, leaning back in his chair as he explains, "well, you see, dessert is the best part of any meal. and when it's free, well, it's even sweeter."

mina shrugs, letting out a laugh at your confused expression. "yeah, i mean, who doesn't love free dessert?" she chimes in, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

you can't help but chuckle at their enthusiasm, shaking your head in amusement. "fair enough," you concede, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "i guess i can't argue with that logic."

with everyone on board for the plan, you settle back in your seat, eagerly anticipating the sweet treat that awaits you at the end of the meal. after all, who could say no to free dessert?

as the waiter approaches their table, sunghoon leans in with a mischievous glint in his eye, flashing his most charming smile. "hey, is there any chance we could get some free dessert? it's my girlfriend's birthday today," he says, gesturing towards you with a playful wink.

the waiter's eyes light up with enthusiasm as he nods eagerly. "of course! happy birthday!" he exclaims, offering you a warm smile before dashing off to fetch the dessert.

as the waiter scurries away, the anticipation among the group grows palpable. sunghoon grins at you, excitement dancing in his eyes. "get ready for a sweet surprise, birthday girl," he whispers, his voice laced with excitement.

you can't help but laugh, feeling a mixture of amusement and nervous anticipation. "i can't believe you talked them into this," you reply, shaking your head in disbelief. "this is going to be hilarious."

across the table, yuna and mina exchange knowing glances, stifling giggles behind their hands. "i can't wait to see their faces when the entire diner starts singing," yuna whispers, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

as the minutes tick by, the anticipation mounts, and the group exchanges playful banter and speculation about what kind of dessert the waiter will bring out. finally, the waiter returns, carrying a decadent-looking dessert adorned with a flickering candle.

with a flourish, he sets the dessert down in front of you, offering another cheerful round of "happy birthday" as the entire diner erupts into applause.

-

on the way home, the group is abuzz with excitement, unable to contain their chatter about the day's silly antics. sunghoon leads the conversation, recounting each hilarious moment with animated gestures and infectious laughter.

"i still can't believe we convinced them it was your birthday," sunghoon chuckles, glancing at you with a playful grin. "that dessert was worth every bit of embarrassment."

yuna nods enthusiastically, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "and the look on everyone's faces when the whole diner started singing! priceless," she adds, shaking her head in fond remembrance.

mina joins in, her laughter echoing through the car. "i never knew free dessert could be so entertaining," she quips, casting a teasing glance at riki, who chuckles in agreement.

as the memories of the day's escapades continue to flow, the car fills with laughter and joy, each member of the group reliving their favorite moments and sharing in the camaraderie of the day. it's moments like these, filled with laughter and friendship, that make even the simplest of outings unforgettable.

-

a year later, the group gathers once again, this time to celebrate jake and sunghoon's college graduation. amidst the sea of graduation caps and gowns, the friends stand shoulder to shoulder, a testament to the bonds forged through years of shared laughter and unforgettable moments.

as they gather for a group photo, sunghoon pulls you close, his arm wrapped around your waist in a gesture of love and pride. "let's make sure to get a picture with the graduates," he whispers, his voice filled with excitement.

-

after a while you glance over at jake and sunghoon, who are beaming with pride as they pose for pictures with their families. "they look so happy," you murmur, your heart swelling with pride for your friends' achievements.

sunghoon's gaze softens as he looks at you and walks back to you, his eyes filled with love and admiration. "you'll be up there next year," he says, his voice brimming with confidence. "i can't wait to see you walk across that stage and receive your diploma."

you feel a rush of warmth at his words, grateful for his unwavering support and encouragement. "thank you," you whisper, leaning into his embrace.

as the celebrations continue, the group surrounds jake and sunghoon, showering them with congratulations and well-wishes. amidst the laughter and chatter, sunghoon's voice cuts through the noise, his words filled with hope and anticipation. "and when it's your turn next year, yn," he says, his voice ringing with pride, "i'll be right here, cheering you on every step of the way."

you meet his gaze, your heart swelling with love for the man by your side. with sunghoon's unwavering support and the love of your friends, you know that no challenge is too great, and that together, you can conquer anything that comes your way.

-

as the camera flashes, capturing the joyous moment with jake and sunghoon, riki sidles up beside you, a playful grin on his face. "can you believe we're next in line for this graduation gig?" he quips, nudging you gently.

you chuckle, enjoying the light-hearted banter with your friend. "i can't wait to see you in that cap and gown," you reply, a teasing glint in your eyes. "just don't trip on stage, okay?"

riki laughs, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "hey, i make no promises," he retorts, playfully nudging you back. "but seriously, it's going to be our turn soon. let's make the most of our last year, yeah?"

you nod in agreement, a sense of excitement bubbling in your chest at the thought of the year ahead. "absolutely," you agree, a smile tugging at your lips. "but no wild parties the night before graduation, okay? we don't want any hungover mishaps on stage."

riki raises an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "no promises," he says with a smirk, earning a playful shove from you.

as the day draws to a close and the sun begins to dip below the horizon, you find yourself reflecting on the bond you share with riki. through the twists and turns of college life, you've stood by each other's side, weathering storms and celebrating victories together.

sure, there may have been moments of uncertainty and confusion, but at the end of the day, your friendship with riki remains steadfast and true. he's more than just a friend; he's your confidant, your partner in crime, and your platonic soulmate.

as you look ahead to the future, you know that no matter where life takes you, riki will always be there, ready to lend a listening ear, share a laugh, or offer a shoulder to lean on. and as you embrace the warmth of his friendship, you can't help but feel grateful for the countless memories you've shared and the ones yet to come.

with riki by your side, the journey ahead may be filled with twists and turns, but one thing is for certain: as long as you have each other, you'll always find your way.

[devieuls]

ˋ Haunted . ☽

Qimir x Ex Jedi Fem Reader < SERIES >

Warning of the Serie: MDNI. Sith Lord Qimir x Fem ex Jedi Reader.

(during the series)

SMUT: Dirty Talk; Bites; fingering; Blood; Spit; Jealousy and Possessiveness; Foreplay; violence; Swearing; Teasing; Unprotected Sex; betrayal; oral sex; dacryphilia; outdoor sex; jealousy BDSM. Dom Qimir ANGST: toxic relationship, self-harm, derealization, suffering, Requited / Unrequited love, prejudices, bullying and insults. There will be flashbacks in this series

Aged characters: Qimir 35 y.o / You 22 y.o.

Synopsis: In a twisted web of light and darkness, two opposites are facing each other, dancing on a thin thread called fate. What happens when light and darkness dance on a wire called destiny, two eternal opposites that inevitably attract each other and create something perfectly powerful and chaotic to unite the power of two in one? The answer emerges in a journey of tension and attraction, where yin and yang discover that their opposition is nothing but a reflection of a deep and unexpected connection. This is the story of how destruction is akin to peace, how the moon one day decided to save the sun, how darkness is not so dark and evil so bad. A journey towards change and desire, where opposing forces merge into a future that no one could have predicted.

(Following some events of the series)

Lenght: 4.4k

TW: THE SERIES WILL BE FULL OF DELICATE TOPICS!

⇠ Previous chapter ✵ Next Chapter ⇢

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Chapter III: Something about you

The moon had been shining in the sky for hours when Qimir decided to return inside the cave with light steps. His discreet gaze fell on you, still seated in the same spot where he had left you, your head bowed while your eyes were fixed on an indefinite point. He pretended not to notice the traces of tears still visible on your face, the redness of your eyes, and your slightly irregular breathing. He could silently read every tiny expression of yours. After all, they were the same as Mae’s when he first met her, and having learned to understand her, he could now understand you. He wasn’t sure if he was okay with seeing his precious apprentice in another body, unfamiliar to him. In this way, he could still feel her close, still see a piece of her in you.

Qimir’s eyes lit up with subtle satisfaction when he saw the empty soup bowl next to the stove. He didn’t show it openly, but inside, he felt a sense of relief: at least you had eaten. That small gesture was a sign that, despite everything, you weren’t allowing yourself to be completely overwhelmed by grief. Qimir bent over his workbench, the torchlight reflecting off the cold metal of the helmet he was welding. Sparks flew under the precise blows of his hands, while his breathing remained steady, calm. He ignored you, or at least tried to, knowing that any word of comfort at that moment would only fuel your anger. He wasn’t a man easily fooled by emotions. He manipulated them, dominated them. But he also knew when someone, like you, needed space to breathe, to grieve in solitude.

Your gaze followed his every movement, watching how his skilled hands worked the metal, his fingers tracing precise lines. He seemed focused, detached, yet there was something in the way he worked that intrigued you. You wiped away the last of your tears with the back of your hand, but the pain inside was still alive. The image of your sister hovered heavily in your mind, and the only connection you now had with her was the man in front of you. Your eyes first followed his silhouette, then his hands, moving up to his shoulders and hesitating there for a few seconds, while the question you wanted to ask kept forming in your mind, heavy as a stone. The fresh tears were drying on your cheeks, and no matter how much you tried to avoid that lump in your throat, you knew you had to know more.

"She…" you began in a whisper, breaking the silence that had become almost suffocating. The word seemed to vanish between the rocky walls of the cave, while the thought of your sister still ached in your memory. Qimir didn’t turn, but you could feel that he was listening. "Did she choose to become a Sith?"

For a moment, the sparks stopped, as if that question had interrupted even the work of his hands. Qimir hesitated, then resumed welding, swallowing hard. His tone revealed a slight hesitation. "Yes," he responded with the calm of someone who knows full well what that answer means. "I only offered her a way out of her pain… I made her understand that her darkness had to be embraced, not rejected."

The silence grew thicker, filled only by the sound of metal fusing onto the helmet. Your heart weighed heavy as you tried to absorb those words. Your sister had made a choice. She wasn’t forced, she wasn’t manipulated as you had believed. She had embraced the darkness, willingly. And you felt broken, torn between hatred for what she had become and compassion for the pain that had led her to that decision. If only you had found her earlier… maybe? You suppressed the thought of "what if?", knowing that changing the past was no longer in your power.

"Was she happy?" you asked, your voice broken, barely a whisper. You needed to know if, at least in the dark side, she had found some form of peace or if her fate had been just another spiral of suffering. Again.

Qimir stopped working, the welding flame went out with a hiss, and the cave suddenly seemed more silent, more empty. He placed the helmet on the bench with a faint metallic sound, keeping his gaze on it as if it were too difficult for him to look you in the eyes while he answered. His expression remained unchanged, but his eyes betrayed a slight melancholy, something he perhaps didn’t even want to admit to himself.

"Happiness was not a feeling that belonged to her," he said slowly, with a sincerity that he rarely let show. "But she was relieved. Relieved of the weight of her past, of the chains that kept her bound to suffering. She found a new purpose."

That answer hit you harder than you wanted. Relieved. Not happy, not peaceful, but simply relieved from her pain. Your heart clenched as you tried to imagine your sister trapped in an existence so painful that she found solace only by embracing darkness. You had hoped, even for a moment, that there had been a bit of light in her life, a fragment of joy, but reality was much harsher. She had suffered just like you, but unfortunately, she no longer had the chance to redeem that pain. "A purpose…" you whispered softly, almost ironically.

Qimir took the welder back in his hands, ignoring what you had said as he reignited the tool. His fingers moved skillfully over the instruments, his gaze remaining fixed on the helmet, as if it helped him remember the first time he had met Mae. "She was young when I first met her," he began slowly, his tone low and delicate, almost as if he were speaking to himself. "She wasn’t yet fully aware of who she was or what she truly wanted. But there was something in her… a constant anger, a pain that drove her to seek something greater, she was searching for vengeance. She wanted to avenge your death."

His words hit you like a punch to the heart. Your death? The thought that your sister had spent years believing you were dead made you shudder, especially since you had thought the same thing before the Order came to find you.

Qimir paused, the sparks stopped again as he observed the metallic line forming on the helmet. "I saw her for the first time on Olega. She was fighting with some kids, she must have been around eight or nine years old, I can’t say for sure…" He took a brief pause, a faint smile crossing his face, as if the memory of young Mae gave him a kind of happiness. "She was using the Force against them. Grief, fear, and anger consumed her so much that her power seemed almost… uncontrollable. In fact, shopkeepers had been complaining for days about disturbances caused by what they thought was a rebellious Padawan. I found her before the Jedi could." Your eyes softened as you listened, imagining your sister alone, abandoned in a world that couldn’t understand her.

Qimir turned slightly toward you, and for a moment, his eyes seemed lost in a distant memory. Perhaps he saw Mae in you, or maybe it was a fragment of something you couldn't comprehend. You stared at him, unable to look away. Every word that left his mouth brought you closer to her past you had never been able to know. “Was she scared?” you finally asked, with another lump in your throat threatening to choke you. “She didn’t show fear… not at first, at least. Her anger was too strong. But yes, behind that strength, there was a frightened child. She didn’t trust anyone.” His words seemed like a distant memory, and you recognized your Mae in those words, believing him. His eyes, after all, spoke more than his mouth ever could. “But I didn’t need to tempt her. It was enough to promise her vengeance if she followed me. That was all she wanted.”

Your eyes filled with hostility and disgust, pain and anguish. “You corrupted her.” you said, your voice full of disdain and anger. “No,” Qimir replied calmly, meeting your gaze directly, showing complete sincerity. “As I said, I offered her an escape from her pain. I showed her that she wasn’t weak because of her pain, but that she could find strength in it. I didn’t corrupt her. I simply offered an alternative to her suffering.” His words were measured, but there was a subtle sincerity in his tone, as if he were trying to explain a deep and personal truth. “I can’t change the past, y/n,” he said, his voice softer and gentler. “But I can help you understand. That’s all I ask of you: to understand. Mae was a complex person, and her path wasn’t easy. But she found meaning in it all, and that, in a way, gave her peace.” His words hung in the air, his tone no longer monotone and cold. Qimir’s gaze seemed pained, you could see it now, but not the same pain reflected in your eyes; his emotions were a whirlwind of feelings and memories. There was sweetness and sadness in those eyes.

“You loved her…” you whispered, realizing what that continuous, unexplainable feeling in his behavior was. That look had to be of a man in love, it was clear now.

Qimir swallowed, his jaw tightening as he tried to maintain his composure. His face was now devoid of any mask of indifference. The gaze of Qimir, which had been almost impassive until then, softened. There was a sweetness in his eyes that spoke of a deep affection. He lowered his gaze, his face now partially hidden by the shadow cast by the dim light of the cave. His expression was a mix of nostalgia and pain, as the words you had spoken seemed to strike him deeply.

“No,” he replied, his voice cold and detached. “She was my pupil… I loved her as a master loves his pupil.” The statement, though devoid of warmth, concealed a truth that spoke of a deep and sincere feeling. The pain that came through his voice seemed genuine, and the way he spoke of Mae revealed a connection that went beyond appearances. The special bond between a master and his pupil… you remembered.

You remained silent as Qimir turned back to his workbench, trying to regain control of his emotions. “I saw something special in Mae,” he continued, his voice now calmer and more reflective. “And I hoped that as she grew, she would want something more than revenge. Something that I also wanted… but it didn’t turn out that way.” “And what do you want?” you asked, closing the chapter on Mae, which seemed to be hurting both of you equally. “The power of two.” he said with a renewed calmness in his tone, as he took the edges of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his forehead, revealing the large scar on his back that you had already seen that morning by the shore.

“Did Mae do that to you?” you asked, your voice low and uneasy, as you examined the scar with a mix of concern and curiosity. “What do you think?” Qimir responded, turning to you with a tired, curious look, as if challenging your intuition. There was a hint of stoicism in his expression, a defensive barrier against your question. “No…” you replied, a slight doubt creeping into your voice, part of you could imagine Mae as the cause of such a deep wound. “It was someone who throw me away" Qimir answered, his tone dry and his expression showing how painful that memory was. “Was it your Sith master?” you asked with a curious look, continuing to dig into his past. “No, my first master,” His face twisted with a mix of pain and stoicism, as if the memories of that night had suddenly resurfaced after a long time.

“A master… Jedi?” you replied, noticing his subtle hint that confirmed your suspicion. “You were a Jedi…?” you continued, your growing confusion as you tried to piece together a puzzle of his past. Qimir’s gaze turned sharp, like a blade ready to defend itself from a wound reopened after too long. His dark eyes reflected a gentle hardness, as if the question had touched a nerve still somehow alive. “A long time ago,” he answered tersely, cutting off the possibility of further questions.

You looked at him and nodded, understanding that it was best not to press him further. Shifting your gaze back to the strange helmet that seemed so important to him. “Why do you use that?” The man’s gaze shifted back to you once again, this time with something new in his eyes, that made you look away. “It’s made of cortosis,” he began. “Useful against lightsabers. Or as an isolation helmet.” Qimir stood up from the bench to retrieve the toolbox he had used. “Like those of the padawans.” He began to walk toward you with a light and relaxed step. “It blocks all the senses?” your tone was curious again as you observed the helmet he had left on the bench. “It's just you and the Force,” he stopped in front of you, then nodded towards the spot where the object was. “Try it.” “I don’t trust you.” you hissed with a tone too much acid. “Trusting me is fair,” Qimir said in a calmer and warmer tone, looking at you. “But you should trust yourself, y/n. Good night.” He concluded, then moved past you and disappeared into an undefined point in the cave behind you.

You spent the night staring at the cortosis helmet on the workbench, its shiny and cold surface reflecting the dim light of the cave. Qimir had been gone for hours, probably gone to sleep, leaving you alone with your thoughts, but his presence still lingered in the air like a shadow you couldn’t shake off. His words kept echoing in your mind. “It’s just you and the Force.” Each time your gaze returned to the helmet, your curiosity grew. There was something tempting about that object. Your mind wandered through conflicting thoughts: the pain of loss, the anger towards the Jedi, the confusion about your sister’s past. You wanted answers, but you feared what you might discover. “Would Mae have tried it?” you wondered. Probably. The thought that your sister might have already walked the same path now offered to you burned inside you.

You crouched on the makeshift bed, your knees drawn to your chest, and the cold of the cave seemed to seep under your skin, but it wasn’t the physical chill that made you shiver. It was the possibility that, by putting on that helmet, you might see something greater, a truth that eluded you. “I don’t trust him,” you repeated to yourself, but another part of you whispered that maybe Qimir wasn’t the problem. Perhaps, you were afraid of what you might discover about yourself. Hours passed slowly, but the helmet continued to call to you silently. Perhaps your connection to the Force was still there, buried under layers of pain and distrust. Maybe that object could offer you a way to rediscover it.

With a deep breath, you rose and approached the wooden table, reaching for the helmet, your fingers brushing the metal surface. Your eyes studied the object with curiosity and interest, silently debating whether to wear it or not. You withdrew your fingers from the metal lump and quickly moved away to return to bed, ignoring the strange allure that drew you to it. The night dragged on, each moment seeming to stretch into infinity, and the shadow of the decision you were avoiding continued to haunt you. “Maybe tomorrow,” you thought, trying to convince yourself. But deep down, you knew it was just an excuse to procrastinate. The cave was immersed in a profound silence, broken only by the faint, constant song of the distant ocean. The waves crashed against the shore with a slow, hypnotic rhythm, as if trying to lull you to sleep. But your heart still beat strongly, unable to calm down, filled with the myriad emotions experienced throughout the day.

Lying on the bed, you tried to let go of your thoughts, but it was impossible. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw the helmet, felt its call, an invisible force that seemed to pull you toward it. It wasn’t Qimir, it wasn’t even your sister; it was something within you that demanded attention. Your hands trembled slightly as you tried to adjust the worn blanket over yourself, but the cold seemed to come from within. Outside, the sound of the sea continued, a tranquil and rhythmic murmur, occasionally interrupted by distant gurgles of marine creatures moving in the depths. You heard the occasional chirping of something on the shore, perhaps Skura singing with the moonlight, or just the wind stirring some debris. Despite your restlessness, the sound of the sea had a calming effect. Slowly, your body began to relax. Each breath grew slower, deeper. You closed your eyes; the thoughts still wandered in your mind, but less insistently. “Yeah…Maybe tomorrow…” you thought again, but this time with a bit more conviction. Sleep began to take hold, and the sound of the waves blended with your dreams, taking you far from the cave, the cold, and the questions you were not yet ready to face.

The night passed silently, as your thoughts, one by one, slipped into the oblivion of sleep. When the sun began to filter into the cave, bathing the space in a soft light, Qimir was already awake. He moved with a light step, running a hand through his slightly tousled hair. However, something made him slow down as he passed by where you had fallen asleep.

He paused for a moment, his eyes settling on you, watching with an attention that lingered a few seconds too long. Your face, relaxed in sleep, appeared more serene, almost angelic, free from the weight of the pain and anger that had burdened you. His gaze wandered discreetly, lingering first on your delicate features, then on your lips, as a subtle but growing emotion began to stir within him. It wasn’t carnal desire, no, it was something deeper, more intimate. There was a sweetness in the moment, a sweetness he hadn’t allowed himself to feel for a long time. He clenched his jaw, feeling a weight pressing on his chest, a realization that made him uncomfortable. With slow and silent movements, he bent slightly toward you, reaching for the blanket that had slipped a bit away during the night. Gently, as if fearing to wake you, he pulled the blanket up, covering you better and noticing the goosebumps on your arms. The gesture was simple, but within him, he knew that something different was beginning to grow, something that shouldn’t have been there.

Your face was partially hidden by some strands of hair that had fallen across your face while you slept. His gaze fixed on those fine threads covering your skin, and without thinking much, his hand moved on its own, as if guided by an impulse he couldn't control. He brought his fingers close to your face with an almost exasperating slowness, as if every second was stretched. His breath caught in his throat as he brushed against the strands, feeling them lightly under his fingertips. Each movement was cautious, almost fearful of disturbing your tranquility. His fingers followed the line of your hair, gently pushing it aside to reveal the soft contour of your face.

The silence in the cave seemed to grow thicker, the moment suspended in an invisible tension. When he finally withdrew his hand, Qimir felt his heart pounding hard in his chest. He had maintained control, but at a cost. For a moment, he had forgotten everything: his mission, his discipline, his resistance. There was only that simple gesture, that touch which had unveiled a part of himself he hadn’t intended to confront. Qimir paused again, his inscrutable gaze fixed on you for a few seconds too long. When your eyes slightly opened, you glimpsed his blurred figure in the shadow, as if he had just stepped away from you. Your body was still wrapped in the fatigue of sleep, but his presence seemed closer than he wanted to admit. He clenched his jaw, aware that you might have felt his touch, but when your voice broke the silence, his gaze returned to you, masking any emotion.

"I want to go home," you said, your voice low but firm, still slightly thick with sleep. Your eyes had barely opened, capturing his increasingly clear figure once more. "You don't have a home to go back to, y/n," he replied, his tone calm but still cold, carrying a sense of stark realization. He hadn't said it to hurt you, but to make you understand a reality you might have been trying to avoid.

You pressed your lips together, refusing to let his words affect you more than they already had. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much they hurt.

"How long will it take to fix the ship?" you pressed, unwilling to linger on his statement. He looked at you sideways, taking a half-breath as if about to respond brusquely, but then something in his gaze softened. "Still quite a while," he finally said, his tone practical and direct. Then, as if trying to break through the wall of hostility you were desperately maintaining, he added, "Are you hungry?"

The question caught you off guard. For a moment, you felt almost disarmed by his unexpected kindness. There was no trace of manipulation in his words, only a simple concern that seemed almost out of place.

"I'm not hungry," you lied, wrapping your arms around yourself. But your stomach betrayed you with a soft growl, and Qimir looked up at you with a shadow of an amused smile. "Doesn’t seem" he said with a side glance, maintaining that smirk that made you roll your eyes. Qimir picked up a basket with some fresh fruit inside and offered it to you. Noticing that you refused to take the bowl from his hands, he set it down on your lap, still covered by the blanket.

"I just want the ship fixed and to leave," you finally said, your tone softer, almost as if you were trying to convince yourself. But Qimir didn’t respond immediately, holding a piece of fruit that looked like an apple, taking a bite while watching you with almost sarcastic indifference. "If that’s what you want," he said finally, raising an eyebrow slightly, letting his words hang in the air. "I have no rush to leave." His indifference was palpable, almost irritating.

You gritted your teeth, taking a deep breath to avoid jumping at him and smashing the woven basket over his head. His calculated and detached attitude made you seethe, but you understood that reacting impulsively would only play into his hands. You needed to be more cunning. Thus, you decided to change your approach. "I don’t understand," you began, breaking the silence with a soft, almost sweet voice. "Why are you helping me? After everything you’ve done, after what you are…" Your tone sounded too sweet to Qimir’s ears, which made him suspicious right away.

Qimir’s eyes narrowed slightly, a faint smile curling at the corner of his lips as if he was reading your intentions as easily as flipping through a book. He decided to play dumb, entering your game. "Maybe… because not everything is as you think, y/n," he replied slowly and measuredly, tilting his head to the side as he scrutinized you carefully. "Or maybe, because I’ve lost something too." His words seemed to float in the air, vague. There was something in his expression, in his dark eyes that seemed to dig into you, making your defenses waver. There was no hurry, no defensiveness in his voice, just a strange weariness that made you think for a moment that perhaps he wasn't so different from you.

Every move you made, every word you said, seemed to resonate with him in the same calculated manner, as if you were studying each other, careful not to reveal too much but also curious to see where the other would take the conversation. You moved slightly closer, your eyes meeting his for an instance too long. "And what have you lost?" you asked in a barely perceptible whisper, your voice low, as if that question was as much for him as it was for yourself. Qimir didn’t respond immediately. He simply stared at you with those dark, penetrating eyes, the smile gone from his lips. His fingers played absently with the apple he still held, as if pondering his next move carefully. "Maybe more than you can imagine," he finally replied. There was a hint of vulnerability, a glimpse of something deeper, but it closed quickly, as if he didn’t want to reveal too much. "more than you can think." he continued, as his gaze once again hesitated on your lips

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TAGLIST: @neteyamtanhi

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Notes :

I know I’ve disappeared, but I’ve been busy and not a little.

The next chapter I plan to do even better. I’m starting to write now, so I’m a little rusty. Forgive me.

I was also thinking of doing a small taglist for the series, maybe for those who want to follow it and stay updated without forgetting it, in case you tell me in the comments. I hope you enjoyed the chapter, Have a good day. <3

-Mel

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚

[thiriann]

The Ascension and the sexual implications of it

We all remember the post from a few weeks ago that circled here. I didn't go through with the Ascension from a purely game sense "this is clearly evil " standpoint. I didn't really understand why it's evil or even more why it's sexual. Some analyses have floated around here and tumblr that mentioned it's because "vampires are a sexy fantasy". Well, yes but you're getting a vampire either way, aren't you?

I didn't manage to connect the dots until I started looking into possible ways for him to walk in the sun. It seems the only reliable one is a “Wish” spell. But that seems to turn the vampire mortal again. Now, that didn't sit right with me. If Ascension was changing him, this was even more of an "I'll fix him" situation. But I thought, would he even agree? He's so power hungry probably giving up on being a vampire would be the last thing he'd agree on. But the more I thought about it, the more it became clear to me that he actually has a strong dislike for being a vampire. If you tell him his reflection is a small price to pay for vampire powers he answers "To you, maybe." He loves seeing the sun again, all the colors. He can't see or remember his eyes, which if we take into literary view, eyes being the windows to the soul we could say it shows his disconnect with his soul, with his humanity. He absolutely hates the hunger urges that come with vampirism, saying they make him pathetic and it's the worst version of himself. And of course, the sexual part. He hasn't actually seen any perks of vampirism, just that it makes you an object of desire, a thing used only for sex. That is the only side of vampirism he has managed to experience and that is what he connects it with.

The point in the story that clearly connects his vampire nature to sexuality is the talk with the blood merchant. She is a drow, her society already views men as slaves good for one thing. But she doesn't ask him for sex, she asks him for a bite yet it's just as sexual. It shows the player that vampires are sex objects yet again. But whatever is left of him, of his soul and humanity is very separated from his vampire form. He doesn't take being a vampire as an identity but separates himself from it, calling it an affliction, or condition. So why push him further into nature that he doesn't accept or enjoy?

At many points he mentions there's almost nothing left of the man he was, whatever little is left of his soul, etc. He believes he doesn't have much to offer, especially after sex is off the table. That is why it's so important to remove sex from your romantic relationship for him. While obviously, it's a time for healing, it's also a time to actually connect to the person behind the vampire. The person he used to be before he became a sex object.

And that is the same if you choose his spawn romance ending. You pick the man he managed to remain despite everything that happened. That's why his post-scene at the grave is basically a rebirth of him, of his humanity. While the romance post-scene of the Ascension is a rebirth of you. You chose to reduce him to a vampire, to an object, and even went as far as to objectify yourself as well by accepting the vampire nature. And ultimately, that's all that's left of him, the vampire. The person he was is gone completely.

I'd just like to add that a lot of people like to bring up that they let the other characters make their own choices but that's a weak point. Shadowheart's choice is very influenced by your choices/approval and let's not forget she would actually kill Lae'zel if you don't get involved, you literally have to choose if you sell Wyll's soul or not, and Lae'zel would kill you if you don't stop her.

Also, there is the argument that he wants this. And for that, I can only guess based on my speculations, that despite all the power hunger brought from whatever feelings, survival, fear, selfishness -until the very last moment he hadn't made up his mind. He even tells you this before you enter Cazador's chamber. He won't know what he'll do before he faces him. His turmoil is obvious. You can tell him this isn't him, not really. And he responds that it should be, he doesn't want to be pathetic.

The choice for the ascension never was his, as it never was for him. He himself saw no way out, just like when he was under Cazador. And the temptation that was obviously present at the idea of being just like Cazador. The choice there was for you.

For the player, whether it'd be as a lover or a friend.Do you want the man or the vampire?

[mercillery]

HIS RETURN

WARNINGS: GENDER NOT SPECIFIED + NOT PROOFREAD

SUMMARY: A sequel to the mini-story, but in which you accept his request to be part of his new era.

NOTE: I love Lucius. That is all I have to say.

You don’t know why you said that.

Perhaps you accepted out of fear, terrified of him and the grandiose plans he harbored. Or maybe, deep down, you were one of the rare few who could genuinely grasp his perspective and find some understanding. After all, who wouldn't desire a world filled with peace, happiness, and devoid of sadness, hatred, or discrimination? You could appreciate his vision, though the method by which he intended to achieve it remained deeply unsettling.

But despite the alarm his plan raised, there was a part of you that resonated with his ideals. Perhaps, on some level, you did see eye to eye with him after all.

He smiles, a pleased and satisfied expression spreading across his face. "Excellent, my love." His genuine satisfaction is evident, and you can't help but feel a twinge of pride for eliciting such a reaction from him. It's impressive, really, that you've managed to draw out this pleased smile, and a part of you can't deny the sense of accomplishment it brings.

"I will reshape the world into a paradise where fear and weakness are but distant memories. Embrace this power with me, and let us ascend to our rightful place as rulers of this new era." He gently takes your hand, his touch both reassuring and commanding. "Our destiny awaits, my love. Let us seize it and transform the future."

The atmosphere grows denser between you, a palpable tension hanging in the air. It's neither entirely positive nor wholly negative, but there's an undeniable sense that something significant is on the brink of unfolding. Your senses prick with anticipation, as if bracing for an imminent shift, a moment that could alter the course of your life forever. Your eyes widened, darting around in a moment of brief panic, a visible reaction to the oppressive atmosphere.

Lucius maintained his smile, amusement dancing in his eyes as he observed your nervousness.

“Y/N.”

Your gaze returns to him, your eyes betraying the nervousness swirling within you as you lock onto his gaze.

“Do you trust me?” His hands slowly let go of yours.

You hesitantly nod.

"My dear," he begins, his voice soft yet insistent, "tell me you trust me—with your own words." Clearly, a mere nod won't suffice for him.

“I trust you.”

“Do you trust me with your soul?”

You find yourself hesitating, the question feeling like a delicate tightrope to navigate. If not for the intensity of his gaze fixed upon you, you might have taken more time to formulate your response. However, under the weight of his penetrating stare, every moment of silence feels suffocating, pushing you to respond sooner than you might have liked.

“…yes?”

"Yes?" he responds, his voice tinged with amusement, a raised eyebrow accompanied by a knowing smirk. It's clear he senses your hesitation. You find yourself averting your gaze, a tinge of shame creeping in for reasons you can't quite articulate.

“Look at me.”

Your eyes meet his again.

“Say you trust me with your soul.” His tone was more demanding now.

“I trust you with my soul,” you reply back hesitantly.

He smirks at your final answer.

He takes hold of your hands once more, intertwining his fingers with yours and drawing you in until you can feel the warmth of his breath tantalizingly close to your lips. Everything about him feels dangerously close, and you can't help but notice how strikingly handsome he is.

“Remember, my love, in this moment of surrender, you are not losing yourself.” As his words wash over you, you're unaware of his hands leaving yours and instead gliding up to cradle your face, his touch gentle and his thumb tracing a delicate path across your cheek. “You are becoming something greater. When you awaken, you will see the world through new eyes, as a harbinger of my will.”

Your eyelids grow heavy, and the weight of his words and the gentle touch of his hands lull you into a state of surrender. You feel yourself beginning to melt, your body growing limp under his steady embrace. Yet, even as you begin to lose yourself in the embrace of sleep, he holds you close.

“You belong to me now, body and soul."

As you teeter on the edge of consciousness, the final sensation that registers is the soft press of his lips against your cheek—a tender, almost achingly sweet gesture from a man like Lucius Zogratis.

[showmethesnowplz]

i don't think any media will ever consume my thoughts in the same way as Xenoblade 2's Torna DLC. When you play through the base game, the fate of the Torna party seems tragic on its own, but seeing them for yourself? Going through their entire journey together, knowing they can never have the happy ending they fight for, knowing that every single character you meet cannot escape this unscathed? I will never be the same as I was before.

Hugo, emperor of Mor Ardain? He is a kind, gentle man who wants nothing more than to protect the people he cares about and to fight by his best friend's side. Brighid and Aegeaon are endlessly loyal to him, beyond the level that Blades already are loyal to their Drivers. At the end of it all, he does achieve his goals. He protects Mor Ardain and Addam to his final breath, sacrificing his all to ensure their survival. Brighid and Aegeaon, in turn, were so closely bonded to Hugo yet forced to forget everything they shared with him. Brighid could only rely on what she had written of their time together before Hugo's death, and I can't recall if Aegeaon even had that.

Addam managed to stop Malos for a time, but he still failed. He couldn't prevent the fall of Torna, he couldn't save his best friend and his retainer, he couldn't master Mythra's power because he was afraid of it, and he couldn't ensure the threat of Malos or Amalthus was gone. Minoth managed to find people he could forge bonds with after leaving Amalthus, but he could never truly escape Amalthus's influence. He could never escape the ghosts of his past, being forced to encounter the influence of both Malos and Amalthus even 500 years later despite being supposedly freed by his Flesh Eater status. Mythra ultimately failed to stop Malos and, despite forging powerful connections with the Torna party and Milton, could never truly feel as if she was accepted due to both her power as the Aegis and her personality. After Torna concluded, she made Pyra to "fix" everything she perceived to be wrong about herself, and never felt fully accepted until her journey with Rex 500 years later.

And Lora, Jin, and Haze are quite possibly the most tragic of all. Not only was all of their fighting for naught, not only was Malos still a threat to what they cared about, but none of them were given a chance to enjoy the little peace they had fought to make. Lora was killed by Amalthus's forces within months, her life cut short so early at the whims of a depraved Praetor. She never got to see the Tornan survivors find homes in Tantal or Leftheria, and she left behind so much in Jin, Haze, and Mikhail. Jin lived on after in his own sort of sorrow. He had to consume Lora's heart to keep his memories of her, but grew so disillusioned with humanity that he sought its destruction in just the same manner as Amalthus and Malos. He brought his surrogate son, Mikhail, into the same sorrow, and both lived in this desolate state for centuries before at last being reunited with Lora in death. Haze met the fate of most Blades, losing her memories after Lora's death, but was then violated by the theft of her core crystal and her reawakening at the hands of Amalthus, Lora's very killer. She also existed in a state of lost identity and was used as a puppet and tool for propaganda for centuries before her "merciful" final death at the hands of Jin, her former companion and friend.

Even Malos never received a decent end. He was injured severely, lost a substantial portion of his power, and still couldn't escape the permeating influence of Amalthus as his Driver. He remained a puppet in his own right, never discerning what he truly desired or whether his goal of destroying humanity was his own or yet another inheritance from his Driver. He and Jin could rarely find solace in anyone but each other, as even if they had been foes before, nobody else could truly understand what each had undergone.

The only character who truly received a "good" ending from Torna was Amalthus, who was wholly undeserving of it and made everyone else's lives so much so much more terrible in the process. Despite everything, his desire for the end of humanity and his installation as a god went completely unchallenged. Directly or indirectly, he singlehandedly caused half of the problems in the world of Xenoblade 2 in pursuit of these goals.

In conclusion,

A. Fuck Amalthus. All my homies hate Amalthus.

B. I am feral for these hopelessly tragic characters. As much as it tears my heart apart to see them struggle in futility, I enjoy them and their narratively-induced dooms so very deeply.

[cthulhuwritesstuff]

Needed some poetic nonsense out of my system, so here’s my blood, flowery as you please.

Short scene: Sanji’s and Zoro’s reunion in Wano.

Minotaur

Even the sunlight pales before the golden strands of his hair. As though the stars themselves perished to become a part of him. Not a drop within the ocean can measure the depths of those azure eyes when they turn upon him. When he fixes him with his gaze, it swallows him whole, leaving naught but the prayer to drown in the seas he finds there.

Zoro wants to ask what is the meaning of love— a trite and worn-out word, a cliche that rings off people’s mouths all to easily — but he is terrified that he won’t find enough in the dictionaries of the world to sate him.

It is suffocating yet liberating: shackles and wings, stones and raindrops, and he stares, like a fool with no punchline, at Sanji’s quiet form.

It is different, now that he knows what had plagued him this whole time in Sanji’s absence.

I was angry with you.

I missed you.

Where were you?

Yet he remains quiet, tips his bottle and makes an attempt to drown any pesky little feelings with alcohol stinging his throat just right.

He knows the truth, but that rarely helps the fleeting reason in the face of emotions surfacing and taking over. He knows- of course he does. He heard everything, but acceptance remains allusive.

You never even considered asking for help.

Infuriating. No matter how logical and understanding he is and tires to be, it is infuriating, and it hurts.

You left.

Sanji stands next to the stove, nonchalant, himself, full of wind and sunlight, his sleeves hanging loosely around his elbows, his hands busy. He hums into his chin, long pipe bobbing between the lips and he looks as if he was never ripped from Zoro’s vision. Like every corner of him is whole and untouched, each line smooth, yet still pulled taut like a string on a tortured violin played by cruel fingers.

There are no signs of pain on Sanji’s expression, no proof of any battles in his movements, and that is precisely what terrifies him.

I don’t even know you.

Indeed, it is bitter. That notion, that awakening. The verity sears beneath his skin, yet he refuses to yield, daring Sanji's flames to consume him completely. He can stand the fire. But the simmer remains bitter; is a bitterness surpassing any spirit the Grand Line may offer. He recognizes that, he knows he might fly too close to the Sun, and despite Sanji's magnificence, Zoro clings precariously to the unraveling thread of his own being.

Sanji—Ariadne—patient and enigmatic, constructs a labyrinth about himself, and Zoro desires—nay, craves—to lose himself within, to find what lay in the very center of Sun’s embrace.

Theseus—could that be his role? The hero who reaches the journey's end, only to find himself at the mercy of the beast. Hero... the word does not resonate, does not taste right. It does not feel right.

Heroes have paths, yet no plans. They have valor, but no desire.

Heroes would not crave the light for themselves, to drink it up and hope it consumes them. Heroes are not the ones who want, this maddeningly, to know what lays beneath Sanji’s pale skin, to count the heartbeats at their lips and pray for it all to last forever.

Heroes mend the broken, but there’s not a single part of Sanji that needs mending.

No. Zoro is no hero.

With the last swig of his bottle, he raises to his feet, holds his breath long enough to call it courage and lets gravity take over- Sanji being the center of it all. With slow steps, he leans in over the blond’s shoulder, seeking that warmth but not daring to ask for it, and just as Sanji starts to turn, before he looks at Zoro and renders him speechless, the swordsman utters a low yet determined plea,

“Come with me.”

[lotus4kino]

Forbidden Memories — Nanami Kento x F!Reader (angsty)

Contents: Abandoned relationship, non-straightforward confrontations, acceptance of another’s changes, angsty

Today’s Music Recommendation: Reflections By The Neighbourhood

Nanami sits on the bench that is feet away from you, with a slight darkness reveal on his face.

You don’t look at him, you don’t look at his eyes nervously like you used to, you don’t smile at him like a childish kid you were. Why you would do that? You’ve grown up, he has grown up, everyone has grown up. It’s been a decade, a decade since he left every single one of you.

Despite the silence, you only continue chewing on the box of takoyaki that you bought for dinner. your face remains emotionless as the glowing dim light of the convenience store reveals the dark circles around your eyes. your body faces the entrance of the store while your back faces the busy road behind. he does the same.

“it’s been a while since I last saw you,” he gently mumble,

Your chomping cheeks pause, your eyebrows forming a frown as your gaze begins to shift onto the male. He is exhaustively staring at you with his hazel brown eyes. Your fingers snap tight around the box of your dinner.

“A while? Kento Nanami, Do you have no shame?” you speak sternly. the foreign mention of his last name causes the man to reveal the guilt in his face, you indeed have changed.

He fix his posture and sit straight before facing the store in front of you both, his beautiful featured face blending in with the color of the streetlights. “I deeply apologize for what I did, it was meant to be, [y/n]”.

He sounds like a complete stranger to you now, physically so close yet spiritually so faraway. You barely know him anymore.

“..and I do not regret it.” He continues, it completely shatters your already-broken-heart, though you have no tears left to cry for him no more.

“Congratulations on figuring out what you have really wanted.” you manage to word out, before your gaze drift away from his perfect face.

The high school sweethearts that once used to be the ideal couple that all of your friends wanted has disappeared. No breakups, no communications, no calls, just you who got abandoned by the love of your life. You only figured it out after him being absent from missions for two straight months.

“If you excuse me, I got more important things to do.” You stand up as you finish eating. Nanami glance at you,

“hey.., [y/n]” he call you out before looking up to the tired eyes of your face.

“what?” You stop yourself from walking away from the man, “..do I still deserve a chance?”

Words may form a cut, but silence may end up killing you right in that place,

“no..”, you matter before averting your eyes from the hazel eyed male. he just simply nod. “I understand.” he softly smiles, the curves of his lips causing you to fight back tears in your eyeballs.

You huff before a sarcastic smile is manifested upon your face, your mouth part to say something but hesitate. Both of you are exhausted, you cannot be the only one who suffered in the past. You shut your mouth closed, waking yourself up from victimizing yourself.

You only could lower your eyes to the ground after despising the man for what he did. there are lots of words you want to share with him, you want to tell him how much you desired his proper goodbye before he left you and the rest.

Your hands turn into a ball, “then.., I will be taking my leave.”

He nodded, he was not looking at you, he was looking at the round radiant moon that shines brightly above. “..Goodluck on your journey, [Y/N] [L/N].” Journey, heaven knows what he meant. This is it, the end of everything, this is his proper goodbye, there is no reason to expect more from him now.

You silently sniff, throwing back tears as you try to keep your cool. “good..luck, Kento.”

You dismiss yourself, not even noticing how the face of the male brighten up after you call him by his first name.

You walk away in the end. Leaving him behind like he did to you in the past, but that is no such thing to be proud of yourself. Your soul damn knows how much you love this man. But this is the reality, and it is no fairy tale.

It actually is the end of you two.

　　　　　　　　　　 ※※※

Hellooo! I’m new to posting on tumblr but been using it for a while now. I enjoy reading a lot which excited me to write some. So please dismiss my mistakes and of course, criticism and requests are welcomed and appreciated. I’ll be posting more on this soon and hopefully I’ll get some support as I try to improve myself and start new hobbies, and that’s it, buhbye🤷🏻‍♀️

[merlinficprompts]

I have a Merlin prompt I would like to submit!! Sorry for the formatting I’m writing this on my phone it’s 1 am and I’m feeling feral

Merlin magic is revealed to Gwaine when he has to heal a fatal wound. Gwaine and Lancelot are having a private conversation about it, using a code word for Merlin’s magic. An eavesdropping Arthur misinterprets the whole thing.

(conversation goes roughly like this)

“To be honest I’m kind of broken hearted. I thought I was the first one to experience uh.. Merlin’s ’talent’.”

“Sorry friend, me and Merlin’s first meeting was when he was.. sharing his ‘talent’ with me..”

“I won’t lie to you, when he first started doing it I was.. I was mortified.. but then it felt so..”

“Good?”

“Yes! Gods, I know I’ll be condemned if others find out but.. I’ve never felt anything like it. I’m not exaggerating Lancelot, I truly feel as if a whole new world has opened in front of my eyes. I want him to do it again, I want him to do and show me more. I’m greedy for it!”

“I understand you, sometimes despite the years I’ve known of his.. ‘talent’, I find myself yearning to experience it again. I could never ask him to do anything that put him in harms way though, should anyone find out..”

“I know. It’s such a shame he has to go to such lengths to hide his true nature. During it his eyes were so bright and at peace, it made me want to never let him go. It pains me knowing he suffers so much, hiding his true self in fear. I asked him if he ever planned to tell Arthur and he.. he looked so pain. He’s terrified of what Arthur would think if he found out..”

“I don’t blame him. While Arthur’s a much better man and leader than Uther, there’s still no telling how he’d react finding out about.. Merlin’s ‘talent’”

“Well I for one think there’s nothing wrong with it. Especially since I’ve experienced the benefits first hand. I’m telling you Lance, I’m a new man. I haven’t felt this at ease in a long time.”

“Oh yes, i suppose we just must be grateful that we can consider ourselves among the lucky few who get to experience his ‘talent’, and work to assure his safety in the future.”

Now utterly convinced that Merlin is a slag who prefers men, Arthur struggles with multiple emotions; ranging from embarrassment to having overheard Merlin’s private business, to despair that his best friend was too afraid to admit his preference, to outrage over the (assumed) knowledge that his knights are apparently mounting his ‘talented’ servant. He’s scandalized to think Merlin was so wanton, he should be indignant and offended that he shares such camaraderie with an unrepentant harlot. Yet, for some reason he can’t put his finger on.. he mostly just feels hurt and betrayed. He’s mortified over what that means, and finds himself in a panic over what to do now that he’s learned his best friend (who he doesn’t realize he’s in love with) is apparently a huge slut who fucks his knights (and he’s utterly incensed on Gwen’s behalf since Lance is courting her at this time)

Unsure of what to do, he finds himself at a loss and confides in Morgana about how he should act, and whether he should intervene in any way or mind his own business. Morgana, somewhat impressed, finds this hilarious, but becomes angry when she hears about Lancelot. Her judgement of Merlin sours and she finds herself stuck between telling Gwen or fighting Lancelot. From there everything just kind of snowballs. The knights try to correct the rumor but obviously since they can’t say they were talking about his magic, all other excuses seem poorly constructed and they’re unable to fix the problem.

Meanwhile around the same time, the son of a good friend/ally to Uther, who’s infamous for his carnal and shameless desires, catches wind of this rumor upon his visit to Camelot. His interest peaked, he seeks out to proposition Merlin, regardless of Merlin’s willingness.. (arthur saves him in time tho)

Merlin, on the other hand, has somehow managed to remain completely oblivious to everyone’s newfound attention on him, paranoid he’s detecting some snickers and nasty remarks thrown his away, but mostly unsure and too tired to think too hard over it. He’s too busy prioritizing protecting Arthur and finding new ways to perfect his magic that the thought of being with someone amounted to that of another meaningless chore he’d tack onto his plate. He’s come to the conclusion that he’s not destined to have a partner and settle down, the closest he supposes he’ll ever get is being by Arthur’s side as he gets his fairy tale ending, wife and kids.. Merlin is perfectly fine remaining on the side as always. He doesn’t know why his chest aches everytime he thinks about it.

Everyone’s misunderstanding everyone else, Gaius forces Merlin to listen to him explain safe sex between men and assures him that he loves him regardless of whether or not he approves of Merlin’s constant changing conquest amount. Merlin gets sexually harassed, Arthur is emotionally constipated so he rescues Merlin from bullying but also yells at him bc he’s mad Merlin’s being a hoe with everyone but him apparently. Uther hears one too many random out of context dialogues pertaining to Merlin’s sexual abilities, and Kilgarrah spends his entire interaction with Merlin cackling his scales off bc he saw what happens and he’s so excited for it to play out.

TLDR Merlin wakes up one day and suddenly everyone is convinced he’s a huuuuuge slut. Chaos ensues.

While the premise is crack-ish, I do want the story to be written fairly seriously/realistically. If anyone’s interested in turning this prompt into a full fledged fanfic, I’d love for it to be a very very lengthy one. So excited to see if this gets written!!

I love this idea!!! I probably wouldn’t write it myself, but it’s so funny, beyond the embarrassment factor. I would love to see it though! If you or anyone else writes this idea, message me so I can post about it!

[the-shy-artisan]

seeing as it's pride month, i'd like to share with you all my coming out story c:

i knew, even at a very young age, that i was different.

i was around seven years old when i decided i wasn't interested in sex. of course the adults around me thought it was cute or saw it as a joke: what seven year old says something like that? "you don't know that for sure," they'd tell me, or, "you'll change your mind when you're older."

well, i grew a little older, but my decision still remained; buried at the back of my mind, out of sight and quiet. by middle school, i watched as my peers fawned over movie stars far older than them; they would point them out in teen magazines and ask me things like, "isn't he so hot?" "god, i want do him so bad," and, "what about you? who would you fuck if you had the chance?" i'd never answer, because i didn't have the heart to tell them i didn't feel the same way as them. it was yet another way i didn't fit in with the crowd.

then high school came around.

my views on sex aside, i did have relationships. but it wasn't until my third that i started to heavily question my sexuality. it came about one day during a visit to his house, we were on the couch watching a movie. he started touching me in places i never wanted to be touched. i moved his hands away multiple times, told him no, even moved to another piece of furniture away from him. i sat through the rest of the movie with my legs firmly crossed and my arms wrapped around myself. i felt sick to my stomach, and later i confided in my mother about what happened.

what she said still shocks me to my core to this very day:

"well, you've been in the relationship almost a year, and he's a man. you need to give him something. he has needs you know."

i was appalled. i reminded her of my long standing views about sex, only to have her respond with, "still? i would've hoped you'd outgrown this by now."

it broke my heart, but i broke hers the day i ended the relationship (she was certain we were going to get married and give her "beautiful" grandchildren).

i spent a very long time wondering if she was right. i started to think i was broken.

then came college… and the discovery of a magical word.

i found it on tumblr, hidden under the gif of a waving flag striped with purple, white, grey, and black. "asexuality." i was intrigued, i had never seen another flag besides the rainbow we all know. a quick google search brought up a definition on my computer screen… and tears in my eyes.

asexuality is the lack of sexual attraction to others, or low or absent interest in or desire for sexual activity.

all those years spent thinking there was something wrong with me, that i was the odd piece to a puzzle that didn't fit in, that i was a broken thing never to be fixed; everything suddenly made sense. that seven year old little girl who was ridiculed and shamed for even having the idea of never having sex, the teenager who cried alone in the bathroom as she vomited after her boyfriend made unwanted advances towards her; there was finally a word that described her.

asexuality.

it's been some time since i've taken on that label, it almost felt like being wrapped in a warm blanket. i finally felt comfortable in my own skin.

of course that's not to say there hasn't been some negative outcomes: my mother screamed and cried the day i came out to her (she still denies my sexuality to this day), and i've had complete strangers tell me i should be raped to be "fixed."

but despite that, i am proud to be ace. and unlike what some may think, i do very much wish to be in a relationship; just a queer platonic one, another thing i see many have mixed feelings on, much like the identity i use to describe myself. but the love i experience and wish to share is deep and true, just minus the sex. i only wish others would understand.

i am not broken, i never was.

i was just different.

and that is okay.

[mirisss]

To Follow the Heart

Jay Chang x reader x Yoon Jongwoo

Wordcount ≈ 3.6k

Warnings: Love triangle, that’s pretty much it

Thank you for the request! I hope you enjoy it! 

Third Person POV

As the autumn leaves danced in the crisp air, Jongwoo and Jay strolled across the college campus, their laughter echoing against the buildings. They were inseparable, the kind of friends who shared everything from childhood secrets to aspirations for the future. Their bond was forged in the fires of countless adventures and misadventures.

College had ushered in a new chapter in their lives, but their friendship remained the sturdy anchor amidst the sea of change. One fateful day, their world expanded when they encountered a newcomer to their circle: (Y/n).

(Y/n) had an aura of warmth that drew people in like moths to a flame. With her easy smile and gentle demeanor, she effortlessly charmed everyone she met. It was no different when she bumped into Jongwoo and Jay at the campus library.

"I'm so sorry," she exclaimed, her eyes widening in apology as her books scattered across the floor.

Jongwoo and Jay quickly knelt down to help her gather her belongings. "No worries," Jongwoo said with a grin. "We're experts at causing chaos."

(Y/n) chuckled, her cheeks tinged with a hint of pink. "Well, it seems I've stumbled into the right company then."

From that moment on, their friendship blossomed like a wildflower in spring. (Y/n) seamlessly integrated into their dynamic, adding her own unique perspective to their conversations and adventures. Whether they were studying late into the night or embarking on impromptu road trips, the trio became an unstoppable force, bound together by laughter, loyalty, and love.

As the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, Jongwoo, Jay, and (Y/n) found themselves inseparable. Their friendship flourished as they embarked on new adventures, shared countless laughs, and supported each other through life's ups and downs.

But amidst the comfort of their close-knit bond, subtle shifts began to stir beneath the surface. Jongwoo found himself captivated by (Y/n)'s infectious laughter and unwavering kindness. Jay couldn't help but admire (Y/n)'s intelligence and the effortless way she lit up a room with her presence. And (Y/n), in turn, found herself drawn to both Jongwoo's charming smile and Jay's unwavering loyalty.

Yet, with the unspoken understanding that their friendship was sacred, they buried their burgeoning feelings deep within their hearts, afraid to disrupt the delicate balance they had forged together. They feared that expressing their romantic desires could fracture the foundation of their friendship, leaving them adrift in a sea of uncertainty.

As they navigated the complexities of their emotions, tension simmered beneath the surface, like a dormant volcano waiting to erupt. Their interactions became tinged with unspoken longing, fleeting glances laden with unfulfilled desire.

But despite the allure of what could be, they remained steadfast in their commitment to each other, determined to preserve the sanctity of their friendship above all else. Little did they know, however, that the tumultuous currents of love would soon come crashing down upon them, threatening to unravel the very fabric of their bond.

The soft glow of the television illuminated Jongwoo's apartment, casting shadows across the cozy living room where Jongwoo and (Y/n) sat side by side on the couch. The aroma of freshly popped popcorn lingered in the air as they settled in for their movie night, the comfortable silence between them a testament to the ease of their friendship.

As the movie played in the background, Jongwoo couldn't help but steal glances at (Y/n) out of the corner of his eye. He watched as she leaned forward, her eyes fixed on the screen with rapt attention, her lips curved into a slight smile at the unfolding plot. With each passing moment, Jongwoo felt his heart swell with affection, the familiar warmth of longing stirring within him.

Beside him, (Y/n) shifted slightly, her arm brushing against his as she reached for a handful of popcorn from the bowl between them. The contact sent a jolt of electricity coursing through Jongwoo's veins, igniting a firestorm of emotions he had long tried to suppress.

Heart pounding, Jongwoo hesitated for a moment before tentatively reaching out to adjust the blanket draped over (Y/n)'s shoulders. His fingers grazed her skin, sending a shiver down his spine as he felt the softness beneath his touch. Their eyes met in a fleeting moment of shared intensity, the unspoken longing hanging heavy in the air between them.

Suddenly, the room felt smaller, the air thick with unspoken desire as they teetered on the precipice of something unknown. With a courage born of desperation, Jongwoo leaned in closer, his breath catching in his throat as he dared to close the distance between them.

For a heartbeat, time stood still as their lips hovered mere inches apart, the tantalizing promise of what could be beckoning them forward. But just as they were on the brink of crossing the threshold into uncharted territory, the shrill sound of Jongwoo's phone shattered the fragile bubble of intimacy, jolting them back to reality with a harsh reminder of the forbidden nature of their desires.

Flustered, Jongwoo scrambled to answer the call, his heart pounding in his chest as he struggled to regain his composure. But as he turned back to face (Y/n), he found her gaze averted, her cheeks flushed with a blush of embarrassment.

In that moment, they both knew that the delicate balance of their friendship had been irrevocably altered, the once innocent touches now laden with the weight of unspoken longing. And as they sat in the silence that stretched between them, the echoes of their unspoken desires lingered like a ghost in the room, haunting them with the knowledge that their once platonic bond may never be the same again.

In the days that followed their intimate moment on Jongwoo's couch, an unspoken tension hung in the air whenever Jongwoo and (Y/n) found themselves alone together. They navigated their interactions with a careful balance, tiptoeing around the elephant in the room, each silently grappling with the weight of unspoken desires.

Yet, in the light of day, they buried their feelings beneath layers of friendship, their conversations laced with laughter and shared memories as they pretended that nothing had changed. They immersed themselves in the safety of their routine, clinging to the familiarity of their bond like a lifeline amidst the turbulent sea of their emotions.

But as night fell and the world grew quiet, their thoughts inevitably turned to the stolen moment of intimacy they had shared, the memory of their almost-kiss lingering like a bittersweet melody in the recesses of their minds. Alone in the darkness, they wrestled with the conflicting desires that threatened to consume them, their hearts torn between the comfort of friendship and the allure of something more.

Each night, as they lay awake in their respective beds, they found themselves haunted by the ghost of what could have been, their minds consumed by fantasies of a future that remained just out of reach. They danced on the edge of temptation, teetering on the brink of a precipice that promised both ecstasy and heartache in equal measure.

But with each passing night, the distance between them grew, the chasm widening as they retreated further into the safety of denial, afraid to confront the truth that lay dormant within their hearts. And as they continued to navigate the complexities of their friendship, they found themselves caught in a delicate dance of longing and restraint, their unspoken desires a silent symphony that echoed through the night, a testament to the fragile nature of the human heart.

As Jay and (Y/n) pored over their textbooks, the soft glow of the desk lamp casting shadows across the room, the air crackled with the energy of impending exams and late-night study sessions. Their laughter echoed against the walls as they traded notes and shared study tips, the easy camaraderie between them a testament to their close friendship.

But as the night wore on and fatigue began to set in, a subtle shift occurred in the atmosphere, the air thick with unspoken tension as they found themselves drawn together by an invisible force. Their eyes met across the table, a silent understanding passing between them as they teetered on the edge of something unknown.

In that moment, time seemed to stand still as Jay reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from (Y/n)'s face, his touch sending a jolt of electricity coursing through her veins. She met his gaze with a mixture of uncertainty and longing, her heart pounding in her chest as she dared to lean in closer, her lips hovering just inches away from his.

For a heartbeat, they lingered in the space between them, the world falling away as they were consumed by the magnetic pull of desire. And then, with a sigh of surrender, they closed the distance between them, their lips meeting in a tender kiss that ignited a firestorm of emotions neither of them could deny.

In that moment, the lines between friendship and something more blurred into oblivion, their bodies pressed together in a passionate embrace as they lost themselves in the sweetness of the forbidden. And as they surrendered to the intoxicating rush of desire, they knew that there was no turning back, their once platonic bond irrevocably transformed by the undeniable truth of their shared longing.

But even as they reveled in the euphoria of their newfound connection, they couldn't shake the lingering guilt that gnawed at the edges of their consciousness, the knowledge that their actions threatened to upend the delicate balance of their friendship weighing heavy on their hearts.

And as they lay tangled in each other's arms, the echoes of their forbidden love reverberating through the stillness of the night, they knew that they had embarked on a journey fraught with uncertainty, their hearts torn between the comfort of familiarity and the intoxicating allure of the unknown.

As their lips touched in a brief, fleeting moment of intimacy, (Y/n)'s heart pounded erratically in her chest. But before the warmth of the kiss could fully envelop her, she gently pushed Jay away, her eyes clouded with conflict and regret.

"I... I can't," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the pounding of her own heart. Jay's brows furrowed in confusion, his gaze searching (Y/n)'s face for some semblance of explanation.

"Why?" Jay asked, his voice tinged with a mixture of disappointment and longing. "What's wrong?"

Tears welled in (Y/n)'s eyes as she struggled to find the words to convey the turmoil raging within her. "It's Jongwoo," she admitted, her voice trembling with uncertainty. "And... and because of me."

Jay's heart sank as he processed her words, the weight of her confession settling over him like a heavy cloak. He had suspected as much, but hearing (Y/n) speak the truth aloud only made the situation more painful to bear.

"I understand," Jay murmured, his voice thick with emotion as he took a step back, the distance between them a painful reminder of the chasm that now lay between them. "I'm sorry, (Y/n). I didn't mean to... I didn't want to make things complicated."

(Y/n) shook her head, her own tears threatening to spill over as she reached out to grasp Jay's hand, her fingers trembling against his skin. "It's not your fault," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "I just... I can't bear to lose what we have, Jay. Our friendship means everything to me."

With a heavy heart, Jay nodded in understanding, his own tears glistening in the dim light of the room. "I know," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "And I'll always be here for you, (Y/n), no matter what."

And with that, he turned and left, his footsteps echoing in the silence that stretched between them, leaving (Y/n) alone with her thoughts and the painful realization of what could have been.

Seated across from her friend Minnie in the cozy confines of her apartment, (Y/n) fidgeted nervously, her mind awash with conflicting emotions. With a heavy sigh, she finally mustered the courage to broach the subject that had been weighing heavily on her heart.

"Minnie," (Y/n) began, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "I need your help. I... I don't know what to do."

Minnie regarded her friend with a sympathetic expression, her eyes filled with understanding. "Of course, (Y/n)," she replied gently. "What's on your mind?"

(Y/n) took a deep breath, steeling herself for the words that were about to spill forth. "It's Jongwoo and Jay," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "I... I have feelings for both of them."

Minnie's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but she remained silent, allowing (Y/n) to continue.

"And... and I'm pretty sure they both have feelings for me too," (Y/n) admitted, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment at the confession. "But I don't know what to do. I don't want to hurt either of them, but I can't deny how I feel."

Minnie nodded in understanding, her expression thoughtful as she considered (Y/n)'s dilemma. "Okay," she said gently. "Let's take a step back for a moment. Forget about everything else and just focus on each of them individually. Tell me about Jongwoo."

(Y/n) took a moment to collect her thoughts before speaking. "Jongwoo... he's always been there for me," she began, a soft smile tugging at her lips as she thought of her friend. "He's kind, caring, and incredibly supportive. He knows me better than anyone else, and he makes me feel safe."

Minnie nodded, absorbing (Y/n)'s words before prompting her to continue. "And Jay?"

"Jay... he's different," (Y/n) admitted, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "He's charming, loyal, and he always knows how to make me laugh. There's a spark between us that I can't quite explain, but it's always been there, lurking beneath the surface."

Minnie listened intently, her expression thoughtful as she processed (Y/n)'s words. "It sounds like you have deep connections with both of them," she mused. "But ultimately, (Y/n), the decision is yours to make. Follow your heart, but remember to consider everyone's feelings in the process."

(Y/n) nodded, her mind swirling with newfound clarity. "Thank you, Minnie," she said gratefully, a sense of determination settling over her like a warm blanket. "I think I know what I need to do now."

Jongwoo’s ending

After much contemplation and seeking advice from her friend Minnie, (Y/n) realizes that her heart has been leaning towards Jongwoo all along. With a sense of clarity, she decides to confess her feelings to him and pursue a relationship with him. The kiss with Jay, it just didn’t feel right. 

When she meets Jongwoo for a private conversation, her heart pounds with nervous anticipation. Taking a deep breath, she gathers her courage and pours out her feelings, expressing how she values their friendship but also desires something more. To her relief, Jongwoo reciprocates her feelings, admitting that he has harbored romantic feelings for her for quite some time.

Their conversation is filled with shared smiles and unspoken promises, and as they embrace each other, they both know that they are embarking on a new chapter of their relationship.

Meanwhile, Jay's heart sinks when (Y/n) breaks the news to him. Despite feeling a pang of disappointment, he respects her decision and offers his support wholeheartedly. Though it's difficult for him to see (Y/n) with someone else, he finds solace in the knowledge that their friendship will endure, albeit in a different form.

A few days, at their first official date

The warm glow of the setting sun bathed the park in a soft, golden light as Jongwoo and (Y/n) strolled hand in hand along the winding path. It had been a perfect day spent together, filled with laughter, shared moments, and the undeniable spark of newfound love.

As they found themselves a secluded spot beneath the shade of a sprawling oak tree, Jongwoo couldn't help but feel overcome with emotion. His heart swelled with an overwhelming sense of gratitude for having (Y/n) by his side, and he knew that he had to seize the moment.

"(Y/n)," Jongwoo began, his voice soft and filled with tenderness as he turned to face her, his gaze locking with hers. "There's something I've been wanting to do."

Curiosity flickered in (Y/n)'s eyes as she looked up at him, her heart racing with anticipation. "What is it?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Without another word, Jongwoo gently cupped (Y/n)'s face in his hands, his touch tender and reverent as he leaned in closer, his lips hovering just inches away from hers. Time seemed to stand still as the world around them faded into the background, leaving only the two of them in their own little bubble of serenity.

And then, with a gentle yet firm pressure, Jongwoo closed the distance between them, capturing (Y/n)'s lips in a tender, heartfelt kiss. It was a moment of pure bliss, a symphony of emotions and sensations that washed over them like a tidal wave, leaving them breathless and exhilarated.

As they pulled away, a soft smile played on Jongwoo's lips, his eyes sparkling with love and adoration. "(Y/n)," he whispered, his voice filled with warmth. "I love you."

Tears welled in (Y/n)'s eyes as she returned his smile, her heart overflowing with happiness. "I love you too, Jongwoo," she murmured, her voice choked with emotion as she leaned in to kiss him once more, sealing their love with a promise that would last a lifetime.

Jay’s ending

After soul-searching and seeking counsel from her friend Minnie, (Y/n) comes to the realization that her heart truly belongs to Jay. With a sense of resolve, she decides to take a leap of faith and confess her feelings to him, hoping for a chance at a deeper connection.

When she finally musters the courage to speak with Jay privately, her palms sweat with nervousness. With trembling words, she lays bare her emotions, confessing her love for him and expressing her desire to explore a romantic relationship.

To her joy and relief, Jay's eyes light up with surprise and happiness as he admits that he has harbored feelings for her as well. Their conversation is filled with laughter and tears as they share their hopes and dreams for the future.

As they embrace each other, (Y/n) feels a sense of peace wash over her, knowing that she has made the right choice.

Meanwhile, Jongwoo struggles to come to terms with (Y/n)'s decision. Though he is heartbroken, he ultimately understands and respects her choice. Despite the ache in his heart, he wishes them both well, silently mourning the loss of what could have been.

The anticipation hung thick in the air as Jay stood outside (Y/n)'s apartment, his heart pounding with nervous excitement. It was their first official date, and he couldn't help but feel a flutter of anticipation in his stomach as he waited for her to emerge.

When (Y/n) finally appeared, Jay's breath caught in his throat at the sight of her. She looked radiant, her smile lighting up her face as she stepped out, her hair cascading in gentle waves around her shoulders.

"You look amazing," Jay said, unable to tear his gaze away from her as he offered her a bouquet of her favorite flowers.

(Y/n) blushed at the compliment, her cheeks tinged with a rosy hue as she accepted the flowers with a grateful smile. "Thank you, Jay," she replied, her voice soft with emotion.

With a sense of exhilaration coursing through him, Jay offered (Y/n) his arm, a grin spreading across his face as they set off on their adventure.

Their first stop was a quaint little café tucked away in a charming corner of the city. As they settled into a cozy booth, Jay found himself captivated by (Y/n)'s laughter and the easy flow of conversation between them.

Over cups of steaming coffee and plates of delectable pastries, they shared stories and dreams, each moment filled with the promise of a future yet to unfold.

From there, they embarked on a leisurely stroll through the bustling streets, hand in hand as they explored the hidden gems of the city. They marveled at the vibrant street art adorning the walls and savored the simple joy of being in each other's company.

As the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the city skyline, Jay led (Y/n) to a secluded spot overlooking the river. With the soft sound of water lapping against the shore as their backdrop, Jay pulled (Y/n) into his arms, his heart swelling with affection.

"I'm so glad I get to spend this time with you," Jay said, his voice filled with sincerity as he looked into (Y/n)'s eyes.

(Y/n) smiled, her heart fluttering with happiness as she leaned into Jay's embrace. "Me too, Jay," she replied, her voice tinged with warmth. "This has been perfect."

And as they watched the sunset in a blaze of orange and gold, (Y/n) couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement for the countless adventures that lay ahead, knowing that with Jay by her side, every moment would be filled with love and laughter.

[headstrongblake]

@thewholecrew: i didn't think you'd show / grant & o

after a while, kassy was right. the ghost of the man octavia had murdered stopped haunting her. the times when she thought about garrett and the torture he'd inflicted on her brother lessened throughout the summer. & while the deep wound in her heart from grant remained, throughout time with her friends and with trinity, it hurt less and less. but with grant's return, with his apologies and vague reasoning for leaving them behind, for hurting them as he had, all the damaging thoughts of garrett returned. gnawing at her even after that week they'd spent together where he might've told her anything to fix how fractured nick was inside.

as octavia entered the diner, her gaze skirted over the sea of people enjoying their meals until she found grant at the back, already waiting for her. their eyes met as she hesitated. for weeks, she hadn't cared for grant's reasons; none of them would turn back the clock. but the more of them he offered— i couldn't risk him knowing my plan and i—i couldn't just kill him, he's not just one man...if i had just killed him then it wouldn't have stopped, we would have never been free and i couldn't risk it. i couldn't risk you.— the bigger her desire to know grew. now, there was no turning back.

silently, octavia sat in the booth across from grant, sliding in as one of the friendly waitresses asked if she wanted coffee. with a small smile, "please," she nodded before slowly turning her attention to grant, feeling that same longing ache creep back in as she did. i didn't think you'd show. octavia folded her hands together on the table, offering a quiet nod of understanding— after all, she had asked him to meet her. to talk with her, really talk, for the first time without a need to fight, train, or with nick in between. "yeah, there was a couple of chatty newcomers, na meeting ran long." she explained, quickly thanking the waitress who brought her coffee.

for a few moments, the two sat quietly. emerald hues lowering as octavia poured sugar into her coffee, stirring it before adding another two packets. while she had texted grant to meet her here, o had no idea where to start or how. no clue what she even wanted to know, whether she'd believe him even if he tried to give her answers. but the space between them felt thick with tension, with emotion she wasn't willing to address quite yet. this between them is exhausting. there are so many things i...need to apologize for, so many things that i did that i will spend the rest of my life trying to make up for...i...i want to make it up to you. forcing out a shaky breath, octavia lifted her gaze to grant, "you've said a lot of things since you came back...things i haven't been ready to hear but," octavia raked her teeth against her lower lip, running her finger along the lip of the mug. "i don't owe you anything but, i might be ready to listen on two conditions. i'll ask whatever i want, and...if you lie to me, i'm leaving."

octavia let her offer to listen settle in with grant as her knee bounced beneath the table anxiously. god, how did he do this? still, cause this flutter and ache in her heart and stomach despite the brick wall she put in place between them. despite the hurt, and betrayal, the rage and all her heartbroken feelings. he was the man she loved once. perhaps...she bit the flesh on the back of her lip, forcing down the thought. she doesn't love him. not anymore. after taking a sip of her hot coffee, octavia tried bracing herself for whatever answer he might come up with, but before he could speak, she did once more. "this is me reaching out to you despite everything you’ve done, hoping for once you will get out of your own way, if not," octavia shrugged, gesturing at the space between them, "if you don't want to be honest with me about everything, we have no reason to sit here." she explained, studying his features before she turned slightly, readying herself to slip out of the booth.

[capnportofficial]

Smurfs WIPs I'll never post

#3- An attempted Movie 1 rewrite

In a lush green forest, in a place that would later be known as Belgium, there was a clearing, hidden away from the rest of the world. In that clearing, there were many little houses that seemed to be made of mushrooms. And in those mushrooms, lived the Smurfs. Each and every Smurf played a special part in daily life, even if their part wasn't immediately evident.

Clumsy Smurf was one of these Smurfs who did not seem useful at first glance. Especially with his name, which he had gained due to how, well, how clumsy he was. He was quite tall and skinny for a Smurf, but with the same large feet as the rest of them, leading him to often trip over himself. Even before he had hit a growth spurt, he had still been awkward and clumsy, and some believed there was simply something wrong with his balance. Clumsy was clumsy not only in his actions but in his words, often saying the wrong thing and causing problems. But despite all the hardships he faced, this young Smurf kept an optimistic view of the world. His best friend would blame this on his low intelligence, but Clumsy simply saw the best in everyone and every situation.

What exactly is a Smurf? I suppose that deserves some explanation. Smurfs have always been afraid of humans, hiding away whenever they come near. Smurfs are a little people, averaging three apples tall- or that's what they say, anyways. They have blue skin, are inclined to go shirtless, and wear Phrygian caps which they rarely remove. Smurfs speak in a strange dialect that is hard to understand. They reach adulthood at 150 years old, but remain childlike long beyond that, both in their proportions and in their desire to celebrate any occasion they can.

One of these celebrations was happening soon, the Festival of the Full Moon, and it was the preparations for that that Clumsy Smurf was heading toward. Despite its name, this festival only happened on the rare occasions that the moon was predicted to be blue, which did not happen often without new Smurfs being born. (It would be another few hundred years until more Smurfs were born, which made this quite a rare occasion indeed.)

On his rush to these preparations, Clumsy was almost a force of nature as he stumbled over everything in his way. One of the Smurfs he crashed into was Handy Smurf. Handy was up on a ladder, fixing a roof, when Clumsy ran by and knocked the ladder to the ground. Handy yelled out in surprise, and Clumsy winced.

"Gosh, I'm sorry, Handy!" he said, although it sounded more like "Ah'm sorry," due to his strange voice. A voice with an accent that people nowadays would easily recognize as a southern American accent, but this was medieval Europe, and America didn't exist yet.

"No problem, Clumsy!" Handy called back, "you keep me employed!"

As Clumsy turned back to wave goodbye to Handy, he tripped up onto a barrel lying in his path. The barrel went rolling and so did Clumsy, Smurfs diving out of the way to avoid him. Baker Smurf, however, who was carrying enough pies to block his line of sight, did not see or hear Clumsy in time. The rolling Smurf bumped into him, sending the pies flying. As Clumsy fell off the barrel, he stepped in one of the pies that had fallen.

"Hey, Baker, nice pies, sorry!" Clumsy said, shaking his foot to try and get the pie off of it.

"No worries, Clumsy," Baker said with a sigh that indicated there were indeed many worries.

The next thing Clumsy tripped over was a banner two Smurfs were carrying through the village, which he bounced off of, landing in a wheelbarrow that went rolling. He then crashed into Chef Smurf, who was carrying some flatbread through the village. Chef fell into the wheelbarrow as well.

"Hey, Chef Smurf!" Clumsy greeted.

"Clumsy, what are you doing-a?!" Chef Smurf yelled, trying to climb out without ruining the flatbread he was carrying. He finally managed to climb out- just as they passed Sculptor Smurf, working on an ice sculpture. Chef crashed right into the sculpture, sending ice everywhere.

"Whoa," he said, looking at the ice that had landed on the flatbread. "Freezing food-a! Now that's an idea!"

Clumsy continued on his disastrous ride through the village. "Smurf out of th' way!" He yelled. His wheelbarrow rammed into a table, sending Clumsy flying and crashing right into the door of a house, where he finally came to a halt. He looked up, rubbing his head where he'd crashed into the doorway.

"Wow, Clumsy," Jokey said, opening his door and stepping outside, "that was sure funny!"

Clumsy laughed weakly. "Yeah, it is."

"Here, I got you a surprise!" Jokey said, holding out a yellow gift box to Clumsy. It was tied with a red ribbon.

"Thanks, Jokey, but I'll have t'open it later!" Clumsy said, scrambling to his feet and continuing on his run. "I'm really busy right now!" Unbeknownst to him, he'd somehow loosened the ribbon as he ran on, making the present blow up in Jokey's face. Jokey cackled.

"Still funny!"

The stage in the village, usually used for Smurf Village Theater Productions or for the Music Festival, had been roped off in order for Smurfs to practice the Dance of a Hundred Smurfs they would do to celebrate the blue moon. Two Smurfs stood where the ropes ended, acting almost as bouncers. The left, Hefty Smurf, had a red heart tattoo on both of his upper arms. The right, Gutsy Smurf, had a blue pom-pom on his hat. Both were built sturdily, a sharp contrast to the tall and lanky Clumsy Smurf.

"Hey, Hefty! Hey, Gutsy!" Clumsy said, running up to them. Hefty grabbed him to halt him before he could run over to the stage.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow your roll."

"Gee, but ain't that the rehearsal fer the Full Moon Festival?" Clumsy asked.

"Sorry, Clumsy, but you're not on the list." Hefty said, shrugging.

"Whaddya mean, not on th' list?" Clumsy asked. "Th' Dance of a Hunnered Smurfs needs all the Smurfs it can get, right? And look." He pointed to the clipboard Gutsy was holding. "It says my name right there!"

"Richt," Gutsy said. "Under 'do nae let in Clumsy!'"

Like Clumsy, Gutsy also had a strange accent. His was Scottish, and thick enough that it was hard for many smurfs to understand him. Unlike Clumsy, the place Gutsy's accent came from did actually exist. Despite never having been to Scotland, Gutsy considered himself a proud Scotssmurf. He had gained his name from his courageous behavior, behavior that bordered on reckless at times. But when he was not leaping into danger or serving as the muscle alongside Hefty, Gutsy could be found reading books about far-off lands. One day, he hoped to finally visit Scotland.

"Uh, clearly you two lack the verbal skills required to explain this predicament succinctly."

"Oh, here we go again," Hefty said, rolling his eyes as Brainy Smurf grabbed the clipboard from Gutsy and pushed the scotssmurf out of the way.

"You see, Clumsy, the other smurfs don't want to dance with you, because they don't want to get injured." Brainy said. This was not the way most Smurfs would have put it, but Brainy was not most Smurfs. The bespectacled Smurf had always been a little odd. Other Smurfs would gossip among themselves that something was wrong with Brainy's brain, for while xe was quite intelligent when it came to subjects such as math and grammar, xe lacked any sort of social skills or the ability to understand what others were feeling. This often lead to xem being rude and annoying. But while Hefty and Gutsy rolled their eyes and prepared to force Brainy to shut up, Clumsy listened intently. Brainy and Clumsy were best friends, after all, and Clumsy trusted his best friend's advice more than he should have.

"Gosh, I don't injure people that much!" Clumsy said, gesturing widely with his arms and smacking both Hefty and Gutsy in their faces.

"Ow!" "Ouch!"

"Uh... whoops." Clumsy stepped out of the way as Brainy smirked, seeming almost happy to see those two hurt.

"That's gonna leave a bruise," Brainy chuckled, pushing xyr glasses higher up on xyr crooked nose as xe walked away. But it was a mistake to turn away from Gutsy and Hefty, as the two strong Smurfs shared a glance and then ran forward to kick xem. Hefty's strength behind the kick sent Brainy flying.

Things in Smurf Village are not as happy and peaceful as one might expect from a society of little singing elf-like folk. Instead of working with Clumsy to find something else he can do, they ban him from the ceremony altogether. Physical violence is used on Brainy for even the most minor of infractions. But the greatest threat to the Smurfs comes not from within their own village, but from outside it. And this threat has a name that all Smurfs but one fear-

Gargamel, the evil wizard.

[crimsonfluidessence]

Prompt 27: Sole

Some said it was lonely at the top. Esredes had his fellow leaders of the movement, the council who helped make decisions with him, and the enforcers below who helped keep order. In the movement, everyone liked to get their own idea of what it was and what they should do, despite the boundaries being laid out clearly. Esredes had his role within it- to correct their ideas, to enforce order, to be authoritative enough to make them listen.

Yet at the same time, this was supposed to be his family. The people he loved the most, as he didn't have anyone else. He wasn't anyone else. So he chose to be their leader and family member both.

But the others all tried to deceive him, to get around him, and then were gone with the call of peace. They no longer had need of him, or to get around him. Everything they shared together in the war was left behind as they disappeared. And as time went on, more and more people followed.

After Esredes moved back to the city, it was even more difficult to form relationships with loyalists. He gave it his all when presented, of course- some tried to understand, some claimed they wanted to, others asked for him around and asked his help. But even if he opened up to them, even if he opted to believe them- it was always about the bottom line. If he couldn't help them anymore, if he placed a boundary, if he asked to be listened to about what he needed, they were gone.

They no longer had need of him. He was just a tool for their own needs, after all. Loyalist and harrier both cried to him to fix them, but then disappeared. Loyalists couldn't understand what it felt like to spend every day feeling like you're unsafe from the people around you. Harriers couldn't understand why he had to keep order, why the consequences of their actions affected everyone, why they couldn't simply do as they wanted, and why he wanted them to show mercy when it was needed. It wasn't like he could tell them the truth about his origins. For all they seemed to understand he was a born dragon. That was a bizarre assumption on either party.

They all lied to him. They all deceived him for their own means. It was always about what they wanted. Further their house, further their vengeance on loyalists, further their vengeance on harriers, further their desire to break the rules and exploit his people.

Perhaps they were right. Perhaps it was lonely at the top. When no one saw you for anything else no matter your words, the room remained empty.

Even though there was no door to leave through, he watched everyone leave, and there he stood.

[theoddshq]

THIMBLE RINALDI (simay barlas fc) the odds are in your favor! Please report to your nearest Capitol Agent to be prepped for the 74th Annual Hunger Games!  

OOC

Alias/Age/Pronouns/Timezone: Lex, 30, She/Her/They, EST

Triggers: [REDACTED]

If you had to describe your muse as a canon Hunger Games character, or mix, who would you compare them to and why? Probably a mix between Effie Trinket who is ebullient and perceived as naive although certainly had moments of terrible understanding and empathy, and Prim in her idealism and desire to fix something with her time alive. Also somewhat Lucy Gray Baird in the culture and attitude, but as perceived by someone who hasn’t read that book or watched that movie yet, but did a deep dive of the wiki for lore. 

Anything else? I just wanted to clarify that the reason I am so interested in the covey lore despite not having interacted with that aspect of the text or film (yet) is because I am personally appalachian rroma and am honestly just loving the representation. So I will do my best to keep in that lore, but if I mess up something big and obvious, it was probably unintentional and please don’t hesitate to correct it. 

BASICS

(SIMAY BARLAS, FEMME-NEUTRAL, SHE/THEY) The 74th Annual Hunger Games are upon us and here comes THIMBLE VIRIDIAN RINALDI, a DISTRICT 8 TRIBUTE. Word around The Capitol is that they’re WHIMSICAL AND ADROIT but can also be ERRANT AND ERRATIC. According to sources, they’re TWENTY-ONE and were once described as the fading warmth at twilight of midsummer concrete beneath lithe bare feet, a whistled melody carried like a bubble by the wind, searching for a star to follow in the light pollution of a city skyline, a story told from memory while a tea candle keeps the nightmares at bay, a needle piercing two sides to pull everything together. What a character! As we always say, may the odds be ever in their favor!

BIOGRAPHY

Before the peacekeepers forcefully made the Covey settle into various districts, they were a nomadic folk. Thimble’s grandparents could still remember the days of travel and music, well, the ones who were still alive and around could. Her mother’s father was among those who resisted, and two uncles, a great aunt, and her mother’s mother were forced to separate to District 4 before the rest were told to settle into Little Cove on the edge of District 8’s large, urban infrastructure. They struggled to make ends meet without traveling to perform at first, and while some continued to sing for money, others began to learn the textile trades of their neighbors. Soon the remaining family mastered their own unique form of carpet weaving in order to have income.

The older generation remained righteous and seething in their anger as they maintained what parts of their culture they could in a city which largely ostracized them while Thimble’s parents simply slipped into their mundane daily work with soulless dedication. It was true they genuinely loved one another and claimed to be content with their simple lives, but there was never passion in their eyes. It was more like resignation to survive. Thimble swore that would never be her. In fact, she didn’t really like weaving carpet despite an instinctual talent on the loom. Instead, she preferred to make her own clothes. At the very least, any and every thing she wore had an embroidered embellishment or stitched needlepoint done by her own hand. 

Thimble both saw the beauty present around her in unconventional ways and wanted to make it all ever the more beautiful. She loved to explore the city. There were factories with loose windows that were easy to climb in and feel all the fabric textures. The dye shops always left their back doors open when it wasn’t raining and during their lunch, Thimble could sneak through to assess all the nuanced hues of possibility. She would dance to the sounds of her kinsfolk music on evenings in Little Cove with thrill and delight. Every ballad they sang became memorized in a treasured stitch on a tapestry of storytelling. Even what was harsh could be rose tinted in her eyes. She would climb to the top of their family’s shared living and stare for hours hoping to catch a twinkle in the night sky beyond the lights that dimmed them, but couldn’t it always finally be the day? 

Eventually, Thimble decided that they simply had to become a stylist. It was a career that would give them everything that they wanted. The freedom to get out of Little Cove and see different skies, a purpose for their deft needlework, an audience who wouldn’t walk all over their art, and a bridge that could express their vision and passion to those who would otherwise ignore them. It just made sense. Thimble’s sister, Clementine Rose, who was far older and somehow content to continue their parent’s work, often warned a young Thimble not to become too hopeful of that daydream. Clem was always very responsible and helpful. She was the eldest by far and tended to behave a bit more maternal over her younger siblings. Unfortunately, she also seemed to believe pessimism was rooted in being more realistic. Meanwhile Thimble’s older brother, Reaper Blue, was much the opposite. He was the middle child; easy-going, relaxed, and enjoyed nothing more than the idea of having a little laugh. He was always telling fantastic stories and making everyone in the room laugh. No one was more inclined to tell Thimble to dream ever bigger, and Thimble would listen to every word.

Ironically, Reaper was likely the one most devastated when Thimble was reaped for the games. Everyone watching in each distinct district heard the pained cry he could not contain when the name was read. Clem bore it in tear-stained silence. Thimble could not even look at their parents’ faces, because at least then they could pretend both continued on in placid ease. They all knew no one would volunteer on Thimble’s behalf, which was fine. They would just have to win. Thimble could win; they were adaptable, clever enough, and charming to a crowd. They could carve a place of belonging even where they could not create cohesion. They were passionate, idealistic, and absolutely brutal. Since they had already spent a lifetime playing against unfair odds, Thimble had developed several creative methods of evening a play field. They only looked at the crowd and the cameras and smiled. 

WRITING SAMPLE

[REDACTED]

STATS

Deceive; 2

Fight; 2

Lore (knowledge); 2

Notice; 2

Physique; 1

Provoke; 1

Rapport; 2

Resourcefulness; 3

Stealth; 2

Will; 3

EXTRAS

https://www.pinterest.com/mabwriting13/to-thimble/

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/27mjRxj2xYXZTqQVujIYQJ?si=e3bd538b7b3045a0 

And a few headcanons I decided that did not fit anywhere else:

Despite Thimble’s talent for weaving, embroidery, tailoring, and otherwise altering textiles, they absolutely can not figure out how to knit. Something about that skillset completely evades them. Every time they try, it comes out horribly miscounted and uneven.

She almost always has a few needles and pins on her and will not hesitate to use them to her advantage, especially in situations where she sees the circumstances as unjust or unfair. There have been several occasions where she jabs someone just to look extra innocent when they start after her to manipulate the peacekeepers.

For some reason, the lack of stories that her family shared about their missing members has bolstered within Thimble a great need to be remembered. She wants people to tell her story; good or bad.  

Thimble knows how to whistle very impressively and knows how to play a handful of flutes, but her brother was the one who really fell in love with music. She just wanted a better way to bond with him and found the flute suited her. 

Style is obviously very important to Thimble, but they refuse to cater into already established styles. Popularity is nice, but they’re a trendsetter, not a follower. Their goal had been to create a home for their style amongst the Capitol fashions. Perhaps it still is a goal, although a few notches down in priority now. 

Their parents were the sort that cared about their children, but obviously were so burnt out and depressed that it still felt like they were often at arm’s length. They did a lot of autopilot days, and Thimble spent far more time with their siblings and grandmother.