#but I genuinely think anyone who doesn’t have many friends simply does not look for them hard enough | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 5 months ago

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FOOLISH SPRING WINDS, BLOW MY WAY ; SATORU GOJO

summary; a snippet of the spring you share with a certain satoru gojo — who seems intent on making your high school life as difficult as possible.

word count; 5.4k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, enemies to friends (..but the ’enemy’ part is kinda one-sided), fluffy n sweet overall, satoru doesn’t know how to make friends + thinks lighthearted bullying constitutes as a bonding activity, he’s a little shit but he means well, switching povs, lots of gojo slander (but reader sees the light eventually), big shoujo vibes, they’re both tsunderes <33

a/n; i ended up scrapping the series i wrote this fic for originally, so i thought i’d rewrite it and repost it on its own!! teentoru is such a grumpy little kitten i need to squish his paws

satoru gojo is annoying.

it might seem blunt, but after many weeks of careful thinking, you’ve decided no description could possibly fit him better.

when you first met him, on that first day of school, you had no idea what to think. no real expressions or tonal shifts to clue you in on who he was, how he felt — nothing but the slightest peek of a terrifying blue to set your nerves on edge.

in hindsight, you’re almost certain it was intentional. he wanted to appear unreadable. purposefully hiding his personality and mannerisms, to gain the upper hand — observing you, dissecting you inside his mind, while revealing nothing about himself apart from his surname.

it’s a kind of power; a safety measure.

… but evidently, holding back isn’t exactly gojo’s forte. the very next morning, he was already beginning to loosen up, after getting more accustomed to the new environment and classmates. showing you his true colours; just a little hint of cerulean, a single dip of paint on the blank canvas of his soul.

and with the revelation of his genuine personality — your unease around him festered even more.

where could you even begin to describe him? for one, he’s childish. and cocky. and loud. arrogant, selfish and flamboyant — just generally an asshole? you could go on and on. none of the traits are particularly flattering, and you know he couldn’t care less.

gojo is annoying, plain and simple. almost constantly up to something, eager to push someone’s buttons, to get attention. like a bratty toddler. uninterested in manners, or even common courtesy; he says what he feels, regardless of how other people take it.

to put it simply, he has no regard for the people around him. his self-interest is limitless.

as if that wasn’t annoying enough — you have no choice but to admit that he does have a certain presence to him. a kind of charisma, or what you think could become charisma, if he’d just get off that high horse already. he won’t, though. you know he won’t. he revels in it, in looking down on everything and everyone, annoyingly boisterous and irritatingly tall. freaky, long limbs. like a noodle and an alien had a baby.

but, more than anything — above all else — what frustrates you most is the fact that his unbridled confidence isn’t exactly unwarranted.

as much as it pains you to say it… gojo is maybe just a little bit incredible. a natural-born genius. he’s intelligent, and observant, and awfully pretty, with those baby blues eyes and those snowy locks of hair. and he has no issue getting what he wants.

absolutely zero.

there’s something admirable about it, in a twisted way. like he doesn’t even need to try. he’s good at anything, if he just gives it a single chance. you can only assume he’s never given much thought to the prospect of being a decent guy, because that’s the only thing he sucks at.

effortlessly perfect, in the most imperfect of ways. that’s probably how you’d describe him.

… annoying is still the most fitting word, though. or maybe obnoxious. he’s got this spoiled rich kid vibe that irks you, gets under your skin. you doubt he’s ever had to empathize with anyone, in his entire life.

and, yes — maybe you’re being a little harsh to him. but why should you bother being jovial when he won’t return the favour?

gojo is annoying; and when you say that, you mean annoying to basically everyone. as a basis for existing. always teasing and taunting, looking down from that high horse of his. you’re no exception to this rule, of course. but you’re almost certain that he has it out for you specifically.

you know he looks down on you, from behind those tacky sunglasses. you’re sure of it.

compared to geto or shoko, you aren’t very self-assured — and you think he must have sensed it the moment he laid eyes on you. sensed that you’re a little meek, a bit of a doormat, easy to push around and get a rise out of. maybe he also noticed your apprehension towards him, your apparent unease.

you’re easy prey, to put it simply.

evidently, he’s developed a fondness for getting under your skin. it started as soon as introductions were over, and it still hasn’t gotten better. he loves catching you off guard, throwing you an unneeded comment or two, just to see what reaction you’ll give him next. almost like he’s solving an equation — said equation being you, the limit of your patience. and you keep giving him what he wants; a scoff, a roll of your eyes, an earnest fuck right off. you can never seem to successfully ignore him. he’s just far, far too good at being insufferable.

… and, more than anything, he’s far too out of reach. even when you try to get along with him, it backfires. you don’t have a single thing in common. you don’t understand him at all.

(and that suits you just fine.)

a heavy sigh slips from your parted lips, as you examine your blurry reflection in the surface of the mirror. fatigue clings to your skin like a layer of sweat, your mind muddled, stuffed with anxious thoughts and discomforting feelings.

you’re exhausted. completely and utterly spent, even though the day’s barely begun — running on three pitiful hours of sleep, all broken up and jumbled by nightmares that wouldn’t stop spooking you. not a single wink of proper rest.

and it’s painfully obvious. in your face, your posture, the dark crescents beneath your eyes; in the way you can’t help but drag your legs as you walk, your hair disheveled, little sighs and grumbles slipping from your lips for every step you take. all you can do is sluggishly blink the exhaustion away.

you just feel so tired.

it could be worse, though. you don’t have any classes today, no real reason to get out of your comfy bed, leave the safety of your cozy little dorm room. but you need breakfast, right now, or else you’ll literally explode — so you still get up on shaky legs and try to mimic the appearance of someone… even moderately well-rested.

it doesn’t work, but that’s besides the point.

so you make your way to the dormitory’s shared kitchen. walking idly — clumsily — enjoying the sight of fleeting, fluttering cherry blossoms through the windows you pass. little pink butterflies.

once you’ve crossed the threshold, you’re relieved to find the open space entirely devoid of people. no shoko, no geto, not even a mischievous gojo. running into the first two wouldn’t be the end of the world — but it still wouldn’t be ideal. you don’t want anyone seeing you like this, tired and meek, a little vulnerable.

(least of all gojo. you shiver at the bare thought.)

with laboured, groggy movements, you waltz around the kitchen, getting cups and plates and turning on the coffee machine. enjoying the soothing melody of the pan sizzling, singing along to the purring of espresso being made. it’s nice and pleasant to your sensitive ears, as you blink under the rays of sunlight shining in, throwing together a lazy breakfast.

you waste no time in taking a seat by one of the tables once you’re finished. eager to soak in the peace and quiet, wolf down a sandwich and copious amounts of caffeine.

but, as always — the world seems to have it out for you specifically.

”oh? well, look who it is. and here i thought you had left too.”

you stiffen. ever so slightly, barely noticeable, but still enough that you physically feel the dread envelop every single cell of your body. the voice that echoes out across the open air is a chipper one, a familiar one. a voice you were desperately hoping not to hear today.

all you can do is continue to sip from your cup of coffee, inwardly wincing, silently going through all five stages of grief simultaneously — before accepting your unfortunate predicament.

(that’s just your luck, isn’t it?)

finally, you raise your weary head, knowing exactly what sight you’ll be met with once you do.

and, lo and behold — there he is.

gojo looks the same as always. grinning brightly, a little woflish, wearing those ugly sunglasses and making his way across the room like he owns it. a trait you can’t help but admire, envy, hate and worship at the same time. he plops down next to you like it’s nothing, a little too close for comfort, unconcerned about your concept of personal space.

”whatcha up to?” he chirps, in that sugar sweet tone, layered over with a boyish kind of excitement. there’s a teasing tilt to it, too — the one that always accompanies his voice when he’s speaking to you.

under normal circumstances, you’d flip him off. maybe even just glare at him, silently, or raise a brow in challenge.

but you’re far, far too tired to. too anxious. too in need of sleep, in need of a peaceful breakfast that he oh so cruelly ripped from you. all you can muster is the energy to glance his way.

for just a second, your eyes meet. not like you can actually see them, from behind his glasses — but you know they’re there. menacing and uncanny, bright and excited. too much to handle, right now.

”… morning.”

as soon as the mutter has left your lips, you take a tentative bite of your sandwich. gaze trailing sluggishly back to your plate.

gojo blinks.

he immediately notes that your voice sounds meek. even more so than usual. he expected you to give him a scoff, or even just a timid huff — but no such luck.

you’re just sitting there, quiet, curling into yourself.

after a moment’s consideration, gojo opts to look at you. to really look at you, study your face, the way those twitchy fingers move to curl around the ceramic handle of the cup you’re drinking out of. the way your eyes shift from place to place, unfocused, your eyelids flicking shut every couple seconds. slow.

he’s always been observant — but it doesn’t take a genius to see that you’re tired.

gojo is silent, for no more than a mere moment; contemplating his next course of action. he’s never seen you like this, before. did something happen?

…

(— well, it doesn’t matter. not his problem.)

”you look like a zombie,” he grins, a little teasing, showing off the white of his teeth. even though you look out of it, he can’t help himself — despite his own intuition telling him to let you be.

you’re just too fun to tease. suguru and shoko only ever raise their eyebrows at him, or stare him down like a misbehaving dog, but you always have a good reaction to give. something to entertain him when he’s bored, distract him when his mind is too full of noise.

so he can’t help but tease you, a little. hoping it’ll soothe the restlessness inside his chest.

but for once, what gojo expects isn’t what he gets.

what he expects is for you to glare at him. tell him to leave you alone, or even just sigh in exasperation — either one would be fine. it’s just mindless enjoyment, to him, a little fun to lighten up his day.

especially now, when suguru is away on some day trip he wasn’t privy to. that traitor. shoko is nowhere to be seen, either, probably off smoking in some random alleyway. or hanging out with one of the kyoto losers.

… the whole dorm is so eerily quiet.

(gojo would never admit it, not in a thousand years… but maybe he’d feel just a little bit lonely without any of you around.)

for a while after waking up, he assumed he’d have to spend the whole day alone. no one to talk to, no one to look at. he was practically dying of boredom. but then he entered the kitchen — and saw his saving grace. his dear little irritable classmate.

he was so relieved. content in the knowledge that he’d get to push your buttons to his heart’s desire, bask in your playful banter and cold, joking little looks until suguru finally comes home.

only this time — you don’t react at all.

you don’t give him what he expects, don’t indulge his little antics, in the way he’s grown so accustomed to. you just keep eating your breakfast, and drinking your coffee, in total silence.

gojo waits, just a couple moments more. hoping for a delayed reaction, a witty counter, a snarky comment. anything.

but it never comes.

finally, he starts to sulk. slumping against the leather seat behind him, quieting down with a low huff. furrowing his brows, as his glossy, cherry-tasting lips curl down into a little pout.

honestly, he’s kind of annoyed. just what is your problem? what is with you, today?

… it’s no fun if you’re not playing along.

gojo can’t help but grumble, a little, under his breath. you’re usually so responsive, so easy to rile up. so what’s wrong? why are you just sitting there?

…

whatever. so what if you’re not talking to him? so what if you won’t even spare him a glance? gojo has better things to do, bigger fish to fry. he wasn’t even that excited, when he saw you. the thought of bantering with you didn’t lift his spirits, even in the slightest.

not even a little bit.

…

but, really — would it take so much effort for you to just say something? to just respond to his friendly little quip? you can’t possibly be that tired.

or, what — did you get insecure, or something? because he called you a zombie? no way. you’re not that sensitive… are you? or is that it?

what a hassle.

you know he’s just messing with you. he knows you know. so why are you acting so….

(sad, gojo wants to think, but he buries the thought before it can reach his frontal cortex. he doesn’t want to empathize with you, not right now — doesn’t want to feel that discomforting pang in his chest.)

a strange sensation bubbles up in his chest. something frustrated, a little unnerved; at your lack of a reaction, the weak glint in your eyes. he just doesn’t understand why — and that frustrates him even more.

why can’t you just bite back, like always?

(… it’s fun when you do.)

the silence lingers on, stretches out across the room, festers and grows as you gulp down your breakfast. all while gojo keeps on sulking, still sitting beside you, waiting for something to happen. he briefly considers getting up and leaving, or saying something annoying to hopefully spur you on —

but you stand up before he can convince himself to go through with either option.

having finished your breakfast, your legs carry you to the sink. finally, you can head back to your room. gojo’s being weirdly quiet, but you pay no mind to it; methodically washing your dishes in silence.

you don’t bother saying goodbye to him, either. still sitting there, seemingly deep in thought, grumbling something under his breath.

he watches as you leave, gaze trailing after you, until you’re completely out of sight.

then he lays down, flat on his back, with a frustrated huff. trying desperately to brush away the memory of your dim eyes, the slight frown on your lips. the dark circles under your eyes, that he tried so hard not to notice because they made him feel so weirdly uncomfortable. the meek, meek look you gave him.

gojo sighs.

(he feels just a tiny, tiny bit bad.)

when you wake up from your slumber, you immediately note that your body feels lighter.

this time, no nightmares came to haunt you. having practically collapsed once your head hit the pillow, your body finally decided to give you some peace of mind, some well needed rest. thankfully.

with a groan, you lazily stretch out your limbs — enjoying the feeling of your veins waking up, gaze falling on the clock on your wall. you’ve only been asleep for about two hours, or so, but it’s more than enough to give you the little jolt of energy that you need.

what to do, what to do. you still have the whole day ahead of you. another nap wouldn’t hurt, but you don’t want to waste your precious free time just rotting in bed — maybe you could take a walk around the schoolyard instead? the cherry blossoms have started to unfurl, and the grounds of the school are just littered with them.

even just the mental image is enough to have you changing into some light and comfortable clothes, reaching a hand out to push your door open. excitement stirring in your veins.

as you do so, something is knocked over.

all you hear is a soft little thud, accompanied by the sensation of something colliding with the door. a low curiosity overtakes you — eagerly peeking around for a look at the mysterious something.

your gaze falls on something pink.

it’s tiny, awfully out of place, just laying unassumingly on the dusty floorboards. as you crouch down to get a better look, you recognize it instantly; a small carton of strawberry milk. a plastic straw plastered on its side, and an evil looking cow mascot staring at you from the front. one of the items sold in the schoolyard’s vending machines — your personal favorite. you drink it every time you need a tiny pick-me-up, the sweet taste always managing to soothe your spirits.

and it was sitting right outside your door.

you stare at it, silently, in deep contemplation. holding it in your hand as the gears turn inside your head. could someone have dropped it? no, that’s dumb — who’d drop it right outside your door and then not pick it up?

… did someone leave it for you, then? because they know you like it? that could be it, maybe, but who would —

…

your mind stills.

(no way.)

when you think about it — that’s the only explanation that makes sense. shoko and geto aren’t there, and you barely know any of your senior students. yaga-sensei would never give you strawberry milk without a lecture on the dangers of cavities, either.

that just leaves one possible culprit.

but you can’t wrap your head around it. why would he do something like that? he doesn’t like you — you know that much. so it couldn’t possibly be him.

… then again, you have seen him drink it. both of you like it, contrary to your other classmates; shoko doesn’t like sweet things in general, and geto wouldn’t go for strawberry milk if he could choose something else. it might as well be the only thing you and gojo have in common — the one thing that binds you two together.

a single carton of strawberry milk.

it’s almost comical.

(if it’s really true — if he really did do it… then you wonder why. maybe he noticed that you were feeling under the weather, and figured it’d make you happy.

you wonder if it’d be foolish of you, to believe that it’s true — if only because you kinda like the idea.)

your feet move on their own, before your mind has a chance to question the decision.

where could he be? in the kitchen, still? in his dorm?

just as you begin to wonder, a flash of white dances in the corners of your vision. when you glance out the window, you see it; white, soft hair, like a fluffy cloud, in the midst of all the pink petals fluttering about.

you stop.

then you start walking again. with more decision, this time. hurrying to the exit.

gojo is sitting right outside the dormitory, on a wooden bench, legs swinging idly as he gazes at the sky. his hair sways slightly with the breeze, soft strands moving and caressing his skin. pink petals dance all around him, gracefully descending down to the ground, together with a trail of bubbles. gojo is blowing them, haphazardly, following their movement with his keen eyes. they glimmer in the sunlight, reflecting all shades of the rainbow.

the sight is just a little bit breathtaking.

the ground crunches beneath your feet, when you take a step forward — and gojo turns towards you. you stiffen like a deer in headlights, instantly regretting your decision. blinking nervously. you walked here almost entirely on impulse, but now that you’re face to face…

(it’s a little scary.)

�� still, it’s far too late to back out now. you can’t do much except join him, so that’s exactly what you do — albeit a little hesitantly.

trying to ignore his continuous stare, burning into the side of your head, you plop down beside him. feeling the steady bench beneath you, breathing in the scent of sweet-smelling cherries and soap.

an uncomfortable silence lingers in the air around you both, as he waits for you to say something.

it’s a little tough. mustering up the courage to say anything, even just to face him. the decisiveness you felt just a moment ago has faded, now only the ghost of a sensation — you’re too nervous to verbalize anything.

but eventually, after a deep breath or two, you force yourself to speak. hoping you won’t come to regret it.

”… hey, gojo?”

it’s almost a whisper. soft and fragile, mumbled beneath your breath as you stare at the cherry trees in front of you. you know his eyes are on you, though. you can feel them, almost feel their weight in the palm of your hand. like marbles.

weakly, you raise up the carton of strawberry milk. glancing over at him, not quite managing a smile, but trying your best to look somewhat appreciative.

”thanks.”

a confused blink. gojo looks down the strawberry milk, and then back up at you. eyelashes fluttering.

a moment passes.

then he turns his head away, swiftly, his hair tousled by the movement — a couple pink petals stuck between the soft strands. you can’t see his face anymore.

”i have no idea what you’re talking about,” he huffs, with a voice you’ve never heard him speak through.

when you look a little closer — you think the tips of his ears may be just slightly red. it makes your lips curl up into a small smile, but you barely feel it.

(like this, he’s actually kind of cute.)

cherry blossoms flutter in the wind, dancing joyously, without a care in the world. a spring breeze ruffles gojo’s hair, as he sits beside you, having begun to blow his bubbles again. not saying a word, and looking straight ahead. but you can’t help but stare, as sneakily as you can muster.

you find yourself thinking that he looks right at home, among the petals. fleeting, hard to get a grasp on, so pretty, and so out of reach — despite being so close.

if you wanted to, you could reach over and touch him. you could reach for his sunglasses, lift them off his face, and finally see those eyes he’s so intent on hiding. you could see him, see straight into his soul — and find out who he really is.

you won’t, though. some boundaries aren’t meant to be so callously crossed.

instead, you puncture the pink carton in your hand with the plastic straw, and take a tentative sip. the sweet taste soothes you, straight away, blooming on your tongue. you can’t help but sigh, softly, relaxing even further — it’s absolutely perfect, for this kind of weather. the sight before you, cherry petals and shining bubbles, a boy you don’t like, but definitely don’t hate.

you both look up, following the bubbles with your eyes, as they float up into the sky; as they get smaller and smaller, farther and farther out of reach. neither of you say a word, but the silence is comforting. light.

gojo is the first one to break it — in a voice so small you barely hear it.

”… you don’t look like a zombie.”

a second passes. you’re left blinking in confusion, trying to decipher the sudden statement. you can’t get a good read on his expression, with those eyes of his conveniently hidden; he must have regained his composure, then.

it takes a couple seconds for his words to sink in — but once they do, all pieces seem to fall into place.

and you burst into laughter.

gojo blinks at you, caught off guard, his eyelashes flapping like a little dove scrambling to get off the ground — staring at you like you just grew a second head. that makes you laugh harder, a bout of giggles spilling past your lips — you just can’t help it.

”did —” you wheeze, softly, thoroughly amused. trying and failing to bite back the laughter. ”did you think i was bothered by that, or something?”

gojo looks at you. a little stunned, for a moment. the sight only makes your smile bloom further, eyes crinkled as you meet his gaze. from the angle you’re viewing him through, leaning back against the bench, you catch a glimmer of his eyes. they’re awfully pretty — blue and bright, full of life. when you look closer, you can see tiny, tiny splotches of white.

they look like the blue sky.

you called them menacing, before, but now you aren’t so sure. they seem soft, in the sunlight, especially when seen like this — right after catching him off guard. it’s a rare moment, terribly precious. something to savour.

gojo doesn’t let it linger, though.

after a moment of two, he scoffs — turning away yet again. a soft, soft pout on his lips.

”obviously not,” he huffs, sounding nothing but irritated, resting his jaw on the heel of his palm. ”but with how sensitive you are, i wouldn’t be surprised.”

usually, a comment like that would irk you. now it just makes you giggle, lightheartedly — the tips of his ears turning redder at the sound.

(he really isn’t so bad, after all.)

for a while, you don’t say anything else. afraid of ruining the tender atmosphere. you feel closer to gojo than ever before — and you wonder if maybe this is the gojo that geto sees. childish, but well meaning. arrogant and cocky, but oddly innocent. selfish — but not really. you’re starting to think that you may have been slightly off, with that one.

the strawberry milk on your tongue tastes sweet. a little sweeter than usual, though you choose not to dwell on it.

”hey,” you break the silence, surprising even yourself. the words fall from your lips like soft little breaths, rolling off your tongue like marbles pouring out of a glass bottle. ”i don’t dislike you, you know?”

it’s an impulsive admission. saying it out loud doesn’t feel wrong, though. maybe a little humiliating, sure, but not wrong. not dishonest.

you suspect that gojo may be looking at you, out of the corner of his eye, but you aren’t sure. after all, you’re vehemently avoiding his gaze — a little embarrassed by your own sincerity.

he doesn’t know how to respond. you’re being strangely unpredictable, today, and it makes him feel unsure of himself. your tone is soft, almost friendly. he only ever hears it when you’re talking to shoko or geto.

not learning his lesson, gojo opts to tease you again. as always. afraid to let the silence linger for too long. it’s a halfhearted attempt, though, more of a vaguely amused huff than anything.

”what, got a crush on me or somethin’?”

this time, you don’t scoff, or roll your eyes, or give him an earnest fuck right off. you only chuckle, in a way that almost borders on fond. you’re not one to tease, contrary to the boy on your left, but your words are teasing even still. ”i have better taste than that.”

gojo should be irked, should grumble and bite back, but you don’t give him the chance to.

”i just… you know,” you taste the words on your tongue. ”i still think you’re annoying. and childish.” gojo huffs, and your lips curl up. ”but i really don’t dislike you.”

you take a sip of the strawberry milk, before continuing, hoping it’ll make the words easier to say. ”… and it’s not like i know you, anyway. so i’m sorry for making a bunch of assumptions.”

a pause. for a split second, you quiet down, a little flustered. gnawing on your bottom lip.

”… that’s all i wanted to say,” you exhale, gaze glued to your lap. feeling a heat on your nape.

as always, you can’t tell what gojo’s thinking. out of the corner of your eye, you try to catch a glimpse of his face, but you have a nagging suspicion that it wouldn’t tell you anything anyway. his eyes are hidden by those sunglasses, after all, acting as a wall between him and the rest of the world. so you don’t know if the words reach him, if they mean anything at all.

but you hope they do. even as you brush cherry petals and non-existent dust off your lap, and get up to leave.

gojo just sits there, for a second, deep in contemplation.

he tries to bury a certain thought, before it has a chance to reach his frontal cortex — before he has to accept that it exists. only this time, he doesn’t succeed. the words die before they reach his tongue, but he hears them, in his head. he hears them loud and clear.

and he flushes under the light of the sun.

(i don’t really dislike you, either.)

what actually ends up leaving his throat is merely a scoff, so faint he doubts you even hear it.

”whatever,” he mutters, hoping it’ll come across as cool and unbothered. it doesn’t.

one last smile reaches your face, before you head back inside. gojo stays behind, on the bench, lost in thought.

tossing the now-empty carton into a trash can, you try to calm yourself down. feeling oddly excited, as if you’ve reached something, the start of an eventual conclusion. something worth cherishing.

you still don’t understand satoru gojo. but you get the impression that you just grew a little bit closer to him. there are layers to him, more than what meets the eye, hidden behind those sunglasses of his. you can only imagine what the world might look like, from his perspective. what you look like, reflected in his eyes, a blur of colours and facial features, sparks and dots.

you wonder if the whole world looks like a painting, to him.

you feel a little ashamed, for thinking you had him all figured out. a spoiled, self-centered rich kid, with no functional empathic abilities. it might be partially true, but you’ll have to reevaluate the statement. to see how well it holds up. you still don’t think his emotional intelligence is anything to gawk at, but you may have been underestimating it. it’s there, despite everything — in those eyes, in that single carton of strawberry milk.

you think there’s a certain maturity, there, in spite of his childishness. or perhaps the latter is no more than a product of the former, a way for damaged children to dress their wounds. the way he carries himself and the way he speaks both seem a bit forced. like he’s used to performing, used to moving in a way that demands attention. all eyes on him, at all times.

you think that sounds just a little exhausting.

even as you return to the safety of your dorm room, you still can’t help but wonder. there’s still so much you don’t know. despite the moment you shared, and the connection you think may be growing between you, he’s still so out of reach. almost lonely, in a way. you wonder what he looks like, when he’s alone, when there’s no one around to perform for.

(what is an actor without their audience?)

and, despite everything, after all is said and done — you really, really don’t understand satoru gojo. not at all, not in the slightest. not one bit.

but you think you’d maybe like to.

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo fluff #jjk x reader #jjk fluff

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rewritingcanon · 1 year ago

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i’ve seen relationship therapists and psychologists analyse hermione and ron’s relationship and conclude that they wouldn’t work out in the long run. they’ve argued for hermione to be with harry, krum, even DRACO (don’t understand how a counsellor can vow for canon dramione but alright) as an alternative partner for hermione since ron is “too insecure” to be with her and match her intelligent prowess or what have you.

i seriously don’t understand this sentiment. ron and hermione genuinely seem (almost) perfect to me, maybe not in the movies (a common denominator of people who don’t like romione is that they always cite evidence from the movies, since the films took a lot away from ron’s character and his growth), but definitely in the books.

looking at ron’s insecurities, a lot of people dredge his inferiority complex up to toxic masculinity primarily, when it was more explored how it was an effect of his home life (not gonna argue toxic masculinity wasn’t a factor, they’re teenagers in the 90s written by a pretty misogynistic woman so…). he was the youngest son out of how many children? all of his older brothers were brilliant in some way. bill was an extremely gifted spellcaster, charlie was gifted with magical beasts, percy’s academic score was unmatched, and fred and george (despite their trouble) were entrepreneurial inventor-geniuses. ron, on the other hand, was quite literally born a disappointment to his mother, who conceived him specifically because she wanted a daughter, whilst ginny was born her favourite (though, even then, ginny was gifted at quidditch). ron was mediocre in every sense of the word, and his two best friends were harry (one of the most famous wizards) and hermione (the smartest witch of her age yada yada). and i’ve seen people argue that harry was more welcomed by molly into the weasley household than ron ever was. this isn’t even mentioning the amount of bullshit he copped for being poor (people always downplay the blow to confidence being in poverty can have on a person who is constantly surrounded by people who not only have more, but look down on him for simply being unlucky as to not have what they do).

so yeah, ron was an envious kid, but he was that way not because he was an evil patriarchal conception but because he was lowkey neglected. and even then he was overall an extremely devoted and loyal friend to both harry and hermione, because he did genuinely love them.

there were many moments of ron standing up for hermione that was cut from the films, not as a guy who was romantically interested in her, but as a friend. ron arguing with snape for making hermione cry is one of my fav scenes in the books ru kidding me, and in the movies he AGREED with snape RU KIDDING ME. not to mention how ron was a sobbing violent mess when hermione was getting tortured in the last book, whereas he wasn’t nearly as bothered in the films. and the films cut out harry being a dick to ron about his familial concerns (in dh), so when ron left it seemed like a random dickish move over his jealousy towards harry and hermione’s relationship.

there’s also a million moments where they minimised ron’s usefulness in the books for comedic purposes (forbidden forest with aragog, troll scene, devils snare scene) so ron seems dumber than he is. like, he’s actually smart and a really good spellcaster…. in the books.

so simply by stating this most of the arguments against romione become void. “he’s too stupid/weak for her” simply not true. “he’s a terrible friend who doesn’t stand up for her” also not true. “he’s too insecure to have made a move on her,” yes, but given the context i don’t think people would freak on about ron’s upbringing, i think many would be more understanding, especially considering his growth. even if he wasn’t insecure, hermione is beyond incredible and is bound to make anyone nervous when pursuing her (not an excuse for ron to act like a dick, but it does explain a lot where the movies don’t). “they argue too much” they bump heads, none of the arguments they have are actually super damning, with the exception of ron leaving in deathly hallows.

maybe i’ve covered everything (excluding the abhorrent amount of classism that clouds people’s judgments around how they view ron when harping about how hermione deserves better? hopefully).

now, i know people won’t like me mentioning the cursed child, but i’m going to considering we actually get an insight of their life as a longterm married couple there. a lot of ron stans hated how ron was the only character that wasn’t doing something incredible. harry was head of the aurors, ginny was a famous quidditch player retired to a famous journalist, neville was a hogwarts professor, hermione was quite literally minister on magic. and ron…. ran the joke shop with george.

and i think this was almost the perfect route to go down for ron. because he was average, and was perfectly fine with just being average. hello?? that speaks leagues of growth for his character. he’s supportive of hermione’s work, he grounds her when she gets too caught up in being the literal president of wizarding society, and he still viciously defends her, minister or not. in fact, he’s proud to simply be known as hermione’s husband because he doesn’t feel the need to prove to anyone else his worth. the people he loves most know his worth, hermione never downplays or underestimates him, they are complete equals in the relationship in every single way that matters. they kept ron’s best qualities whilst making him seem more of a healed person. they work so well as a married couple without it seeming like mischaracterisation (not to mention the cursed child literally shows how those two are in love in every reality, so there quite literally can’t be a better partner for hermione or ron according to canon).

so i really don’t understand how professional relationship counsellors can go online and denounce it. probs because they only watched the movies, but it’s 2023 and ron stans should not STILL be fighting for their lives trying to defend him from people who simply don’t consume media with as much depth (which is fine, but one should clarify if they’re talking about the movies because i’ve seen people state they’re talking about the hp BOOKS when it’s simply just…. the films). anyways. romione on top, thanks to coming to my ted talk.

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whyse7vn · 1 year ago

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KIM TAEHYUNG

RANDOM 01:

!gc taehyung who is actually a sick little loser who does not know how to genuinely talk to women at all !! like no joke had like 1 genuine girlfriend he thought he was in love with when he was 18 but she broke up with him 3 months later

!gc taehyung whose only real girl LARGE SPACE friend is you

!gc taehyung who openly and horribly flirts with you finding comfort knowing you can’t actually leave him because you work together (kinda sick of you ask me)

!gc taehyung who DID fly all the way to paris for jennie only to be told “this isn’t working out” “you’re just not what i thought you’d be”

!gc taehyung who told himself he wasn’t upset about being broken up with

!gc taehyung who never told anyone about his short lived relationship with jennie and profusely denies it any time it’s brought up

!gc taehyung who despite being broken up with for many months now thinks about the phrase “you’re just not what i thought you’d be” everyday

!gc taehyung who realises when it comes to you everything comes naturally whether it’s flirting talking eating or just being him it is always easier with you

!gc taehyung who doesn’t seem to realise his normal “harmless” flirtatious remarks towards you hold some extra weight to them these days

!gc taehyung who after a unbelievable miracle a free weekend one night with you namjoon and like 6 bottles of soju managed to get you into his bed

!gc taehyung who is genuinely so sacred about where you and him stand now you’re dating jaehyun

!gc taehyung the most bullied man in the gc (justice for him)

!gc taehyung who took the furry bit waaayyyyy too far and now genuinely likes being called a good boy

!gc taehyung who is NOT actually going broke but simply looses his card way more than he would like to admit

!gc taehyung who finds it hard making new friends

!gc taehyung who counts his lucky starts every night for that day with you and joon

!gc taehyung who is extremely surprised you tolerate him after all the crazy shit he’s said to you

!gc taehyung who is definitely NOT a bad influence on jungkook

!gc taehyung who can not physically go a day with out talking all of his members at least once

!gc taehyung who once literally SOBBED to you for hours about the bullying yeontan had received in the gc (he was extremely high) (and they weren’t even talking about yeontan he just saw the word rat and fell to his knees)

—

hiiii so this is a new concept i’m trying out idk if i like it yet but basically the whole idea of it is to give a bit more insight into every one in the gc and what’s going on??

i think in the future i want to add more structure into these like each post to have a theme maybe idk but i would like it to be less random

like maybe people can ask questions about a certain member and then i can put the answers here like this???

for example someone could ask oh how come jk lives with y/n? and then i’ll answer like this.

i feel like this allows more of a look at each member individually and explains why they act the way they act or why they might of done some of the things they’ve done

anyways lmk of you fucking with it or not or if you have anyways to help me improve this at all luv you all mwah mwah

tags: @piw6n @92jinnies @birdie-vhs @kooksmilitarywife @hob3loveofmylife @jujubiism @bloopkook @ratchetpizza1 @myntalks @arloo00 @watamotee33 @y2kcy3brz @taiwan0618 @indigobsessed @freyadanvers @gguksbeloved @raetf @bbsantc @winuvs @medicinemybish @bxnnyhime @leleluvsbts @baetukki @zyaaaszn @thelilbutifulthings @jazminethecreator @k4ngelz @jmnscutie

#bts crack #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts text #bts x y/n #bts fanfic #bts x you #bts x reader #taehyung x y/n #taehyung × reader #!gc taehyung #v x you #v x reader #gc offline #kim taehyung

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thefirstlioveyou · 10 months ago

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i think the one of the many reasons why mike’s monologue to will in s2 is more believable/genuine than the one to el in s4 is because he doesn’t paint out meeting will as something meant to be, or love at first sight, or destiny.

we would never really know who wrote the tweet where the st writers say they do not believe in love at first sight, it could’ve been anyone since apparently sometimes it’s not even the writers tweeting, if im correct? but, it’s still important to include anyway because the writing shows it still.

mike explicitly admits to will that meeting el was not destiny or fate, but pure dumb luck. in other words, there was no higher power driving them to be together no matter where they were in the world. it was just by chance. he then goes on to say that he only brought her in the house because she just needed someone, not that he magically fell in love - which is what he later contradicts by saying that he had immediately loved her in that moment. he lied. in s1, his first words when he sees el for the first time are quite literally, “it’s not will.” he initially planned to send her to an asylum after finding will.

that, plus the writer account saying they do not believe in love at first sight, shows that mike’s monologue to el in s4 is a load of bs.

mike’s monologue to will in s2 does the exact opposite, which is why it’s more believable.

not only does he not have to say ‘i love you’ to say ‘i love you,’ but in this scene, he does not give the universe credit for meeting will. there was no ‘destiny’ involved; he just happened to see will just as alone as he was and they bonded over it. mike emphasizes that it was his concious choice to approach and ask will to be his friend. he quite literally ends the monologue by saying, “it was the best thing i’ve ever done.” he gives himself the credit.

it was the best thing he ever done because of the life he’s lived with will. he did not know in that moment he met will that it was going to be best thing he’d ever done, he didn’t know how much he’d love him, he didn’t know the chaos that’d eventually come. all he knew was that he finally had a friend, and that’s what makes it so genuine and pure. the love grew naturally.

there was no love at first sight, because the writers do not believe in that, nor does the writing itself. jopper was not love at first sight, their love took time. lumax was something that both didn’t expect. jancy was something both didn’t expect either, one already being in a relationship and simply sharing her condolences and the other a rejected loner with set opinions on others.

the only one that didn’t follow this formula was mike and eleven. mike didn’t consider el in a romantic way at all until lucas told him that he should “just marry her already.” (ep2 or 3, i forgot). it was reallyyy early on. there was nothing natural compared to the others. mike felt he had to just because she is a girl and his friends said so.

i mean look at the face he makes right before he even kisses her the first time (after comparing her to family):

el sees mike as her caretaker in s1. mike is the first to provide any real care and shelter. but, she’s traumatized. she clings and follows on to the first person to show her real care. i don’t even think she saw him in a romantic way either until he kissed her. because she sees him as a caretaker, she follows through with it like she has to. now i do think there was some sort of eventual romantic feelings for mike on el’s side later in the series, but it’s not a healthy type. it’s a very skewed perspective due to trauma.

the only other relationship that does follow the same formula is mike and will.

they are endgame.

gootbye 🫶

#im too eepy for a proper ending paragraph im sorry 😭#byler #mike wheeler #will byers #stranger things #anti mlvn #anti mileven #my analysis

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extra-v1rgin · 1 year ago

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☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆

Tanjiro knows everyone in his village. Despite his friendly nature and the admiration others have for him, the boy doesn’t have many true friends. His younger siblings are at the age where anyone within a year or two becomes a playmate. In the summer where trips to the village become more frequent they almost always tag along.

They run around while Tanjiro focuses on selling his goods. He’s often too busy to truly talk with those his own age. And while he doesn’t think badly of anyone, couldn’t even get one negative word out of his mouth, other children are focused on more frivolous things. Tanjiro is too busy taking care of his family.

Any downtime he does have is spent at home. It just falls in place that way. That time he spends playing with his siblings. Very rarely is he ever truly alone. Only when Takeo is sick or hurt and can’t join him chopping wood does he become truly solitary.

In the winter it’s quiet. Takeo is quiet but his feet still make the snow shuffle and crack beneath them. The scent of his brother standing nearby is often a comfortable reassurance too. Without him it smells like wet air. Only the occasional thump of Tanjiro’s axe against a tree breaks the silence.

He moves deeper into the forest as the sun rises. The boy isn’t due home for a few more hours and wants to find the best wood possible. Trees deeper within the grove tend to be stronger.

The scents moving around his body begin to thicken. Pine sap and damp earth float over his nose. If he focuses really hard he can detect hibernating creatures.

Thump. The axe hits the base of the tree again.

Behind him the scent of another animal arises. It’s vaguely unfamiliar, but not alarming enough to make him stop working.

Within a few strikes he manages to knock down the current target. The tree is a small thing, sturdy as it is. As the inside reveals itself it looks to be only a decade or two old.

Shrugging the basket off his back, Tanjiro begins to measure out lengths that will fit within the furnace.

So distracted by the task at hand he doesn’t notice the creature creeping up behind him until the stack of wood has been toppled over.

He’s met with the face of a boar, but the body of a man. It takes a few moments to realize the other boy is simply wearing a mask.

While Tanjiro is busy gawking at the newcomer, the boar-boy rushes towards him. Toppling over in the snow a warm chest crashes against his. Breath pushes against his neck.

“What’re you doin’ in my woods?” The words are clear despite the think layer of fur covering his mouth. There’s a gruffness to his voice, nearly a growl.

Tanjiro can’t manage to bring words forward at least the boy pressing down on him somewhat gently. His hands are still free, laying above his head.

Still shocked and staring, Tanjiro’s ear is tugged harshly. “Hey! Can’t you hear me?”

“Y-yea!” He tries to pry the hand off his soft skin.

“Then answer. You’re an intruder!” The red head’s ear is released, so a hand can squish Tanjiro’s cheeks together instead. “Tell me why you’ve invaded my territory.”

“Ish not ‘er land.” With his lips pressed tight he can hardly get any words out.

In further retaliation a fist smacks against his forehead. Of course Tanjiro isn’t hurt (in fact the small tug of his lips suggests the other boy might’ve bruised his hand slightly) but the action is still rather annoying.

“Who dares,” he roars, “Who dares to doubt Inosuke! I’m the king of the forest. This forest! You’re lower than a worm. You’re-“

Tanjiro drowned out the rest the insults. The boy, Inosuke, wasn’t really hurting him, but it was still rather annoying. The snow underneath was starting to sink into his clothes.

Pushing against Inosuke (who was still blabbering loudly about something) Tanjiro has to talk just as loud in hopes of being heard. “Well I’m sorry then! But me and my family have lived here for generations and I didn’t know there was any sort of king.” His tone was threateningly genuine, head cocking slightly to the side as he spoke.

It gave the other boy pause. His angry rant was cut off mid-sentence. “Well then you should introduce me! A king should know his subjects.”

Finally he rolls off of Tanjiro, straightening up. Brushing snow off his haori the boy offers a bright smile. “We should go back now then! My mother’s gotta know if we’re havin’ a guest.”

“Yea! Show me to yer cave minion!” Inosuke seems unbothered by the snow as it melts on his shoulders. Brushing some fingers through the fur on his mask he takes care of the snow there more than the white on his actual skin.

Tanjiro is trying to figure out how serious the other is about his harsh words. It pushes a light chuckle out of him. “I hope you don’t mind lotsa people though. I got 5 siblings! It can be hard to keep their names straight if you don’t know them, so I’ll wait to introduce you until we get there. Are you out here all alone?”

“Course not! I got all sorts of subjects. When yer a king it means everyone listen to you! All the mice and birds and shit do whatever you say.”

Tanjiro’s eyes widen. “Do they really? Oh- but you shouldn’t use such vulgar language around my siblings, they’re a lot younger than us. My mom might pinch your ears if you do.” He smiles wide. His mother can be quite a beast when it comes to keeping them in check.

Inosuke ignores his light admonishing. With his sight focused ahead he looks towards smoke rising in the distance. “Is that where you live? It’s a dumb place to build something. A monster could easily sneak up on you.”

“Oh w-well we don’t really have to worry about things like that.�� The boy’s eyes have grown wide. “Do you deal with things like that?”

“Ha! I’ll tell you later, I’m sure you’re whole family will want to hear about my feats.” He puffs out his chest proudly. “I’ve traveled a long way y’know? I bet I know about all kinda of things you haven’t heard of.”

“Right! Well let’s hurry then. I bet my mom’s already finished cleaning.” When he starts running Inosuke outpaces him quickly. The winter air is too harsh against his lungs. With pink cheeks he arrives the front door. The other boy is banging on the door impatiently.

“Ah don’t be so loud! The little ones might still be sleeping. I can let you in myself.” He brushes past Inosuke to open the door.

Inside Nezuko waits just past the opening. “How come you’re making such a racket? Rokuta has been fussy all day and now he’s woken up again.”

“It wasn’t me! I brought a guest. He’s a boy I met while cutting wood in the forest.” Grabbing onto Inosuke’s hand he pulls the boar-man inside.

His friend stands there silently for now. It’s hard to tell where he’s looking or what he’s thinking when his eyes aren’t visible.

“Oh my!” Nezuko is shocked at his wild appearance. “W-why don’t you bring him inside? I’ll help mama with dinner since we have one more to cook for.”

The rest of the house has already noticed his presence. Hanako is pulling on her brother’s arm while they whisper about the “monster” inside.

“Is that really your head?” Shigeru seems horrified at the thought.

Inosuke cackles loudly. “Course not! This mask is a real boar.” To prove his point he proudly pulls is off his head.

Tanjiro is caught off guard. The boy is grinning, with pearly white teeth. His eyes are bright and triumphant. They’re also a beautiful green color, like the moss that grows in the spring. He’s never seen eyes so clear.

The rest of Inosuke’s face lines up perfectly with his eyes. High cheekbones flow into a small rounded chin. His pink lips are pouty even when he smiles. There’s a bit of pudginess that keeps his build from being too harsh.

“Brother brought a girl home!” Hanako immediately marches around the house, declaring the news.

Inosuke cries out, waving his hands in the air, “Who said that? Are you blind? I’m a boy dammit!”

The commotion only lasts for a minute or two. As soon as Inosuke looks like he may act, Kie steps into the room. Her natural state of calm takes immediate affect. Pale eyes, crinkling affectionately, focus on the boy. “Hi there, are you a friend of Tanjiro’s?” Kie’s soft voice is clear over the silence that has befallen the room.

Inosuke looks a little star struck in a way. He stays silent for a few seconds too long until Tanjiro gently pokes his side. He makes a barking sort of noise until he can form proper words. “I’m uh- I’m king of the mountain.” The boy can only muster up a fraction of his excitement from before.

“You must be awfully busy then. I’m glad you made time to visit.” She cups his cheek and smiles. It only last a second before she wipes her hand on her apron and pulls back. “Dinner will be ready soon, I hope you don’t mind the wait.”

When she disappears back into the kitchen the room has settled down. Some of the younger children run after Kie, chattering mindlessly and begging for attention. Nezuko follows her too, so she can help wrangle her siblings and make sure dinner actually gets done.

Tanjiro isn’t really sure what they’re supposed to do now so he gives Inosuke a tour of the house. It’s only four rooms total, with an outhouse right beside the wood storage, but has never felt too small. The living room takes up most of the space right at the entrance of the house. It works too as their dining room with a low table sitting in the middle. Around the floor there’s some stuffed dolls and wood blocks scattered. As they walk through the space Tanjiro picks up the discarded toys.

The pair only peeks into the bedroom. There’s futons lined up neatly in a row though usually they end up pushed together when somebody gets cold or frightened or just wants to be closer. He hadn’t considered if Inosuke would stay the night though that’d probably be the case. After dinner Tanjiro would look through the closet to find some of the nicer blankets.

As a guest he might want a bath too. The boy isn’t filthy but he is a bit dirty, particularly stray sticks and leaves getting caught in the fur that adorns his pants. Their bathroom is simply that, a tiny room that only has a small sliver of space to hold towels besides the tub.

Only the kitchen is left, which neither of the boys go into. The smell of cooking meat and steamed vegetables is starting to escape from the closed door. Inosuke gets a look on his face like he’s about to start drooling.

Tanjiro drags him down to the table and shortly after the majority of his younger siblings are kicked out of the kitchen. There’s still some lingering excitement from having a newcomer, prompting them to sit silently around the boy and listen to him talk.

He responds to any question with excited vigor. At the simplest prompting Inosuke is happy to go on a rant about his life. Tanjiro isn’t sure if everything he says is true. If it is he doesn’t know wether to be amazed or saddened. The boar-man proudly proclaims his animal lineage, patting the mask beside him. He lets Rokuta and Shigeru pet the coarse fur on the head covering.

The conversation flows easily until Nezuko comes in with the first tray of rice. The minute she sets it down Inosuke reaches a very dirty hand right into the bowl. Everyone shouts in a very comical way as he shoves the handful into his mouth.

Tanjiro is ready when he tries to gran another scoop. He interrupts the grabbing hand, and is quick to block the other as well. The boy is nothing if not persistent and they end up wrestling.

After Inosuke nearly topples the rice once more Tanjiro effectively has him pinned. “You have to wait until everyone’s ready to eat!”

“How come?! If it’s here now I should be able to have it.”

Hanako smacks his forehead and is quick to chime in. “Mama worked hard for this so you have to behave. We gotta make sure she can enjoy it too!”

After a few more wiggles Inosuke deflates under Tanjiro’s hold. Even after he’s released the boy stays limp on the ground. He doesn’t look up even when Nezuko brings out the rest of the meal, too busy grumbling.

It’s only when Kie comes in the calm the storm once more that he can be persuaded to sit back up. They have to show him how to clasp his hands together and give proper thanks.

Once he’s finally allowed to eat Inosuke goes right back to shoveling rice into his mouth. Crumbs scatter all over the table and floor. Tanjiro is stuck next to the guest while everyone else makes a wide berth around him. He doesn’t mind the mess or the fact that Inosuke steals half of his plate. It adds to his animal nature but in a cute puppy dog sort of way.

Dinner goes quickly. Perhaps it’s the new guest or how fast he eats the food. Everyone else talks like he’s not there. Which is fair considering anytime someone tries to direct a question towards him the boy answers with a mouthful. Some of his responses are vaguely intelligible, but only the short ones that have enough context to piece together.

Nezuko and Takeo always nod politely but the younger ones don’t know any better so they keep pestering him for the same answers. Hanako is just old enough to understand the flaws in Inosuke’s logic and points out each mistake in his tales.

Kie has to end things once more, prompting her children to focus on discussion amongst each other instead. She even cups Hanako’s face so she’ll stop staring at Inosuke.

Tanjiro expects him to leave a mess, after all there’s rice scattered within a good three feet radius of the table. He works like a vacuum somehow and doesn’t stop tearing at the food until the area is clean. It’s a bit of a miracle although there’s a chance Inosuke ate plently of grime tracked everywhere too. With his rugged appearance that doesn’t seem like it’ll hurt him however.

“Mama, can we do baths tonight?” Tanjiro’s already cleaning up his plates and chopsticks, collecting his friend’s as well. “It’s only a day early, and I want Inosuke-kun to have a good time here.”

“Of course. Why don’t you start fetching the water and I can help boil it. And I’m sure the rest of your siblings have already set up the futons for the night.” She says it with a pointed tone that sends every scrambling towards the bedroom.

Tanjiro laughs at their antics. Inosuke doesn’t seem privy to the intricacies of how a family speaks to each other. He has a wide-eyes look that only dissipates when Tanjiro offers out his hand.

The boar man puts him mask back on and is quick to rush outside. Tanjiro has to go through the motions of putting his scarf and overcoat back on. It takes a while to lace up his boots and by the time he’s outside Inosuke is covered in snow again from running around. The sun is just barely above the horizon, casting a golden glow over everything.

“Aren’t you cold out here with no shirt or anything? I can loan you something if you want.”

“No way! Shirts and people shit like that is way too uncomfortable. It’s dumb!” His voice drifts in and out as he shouts and scrambles around. With each wild step he kicks up snow.

Laughing lightly Tanjiro points east. “We’re going that way. Don’t worry, it’s just a short walk.”

“Course I knew that! I was checking the area for invaders.”

“Well in that case I’m grateful you’re here to help protect me.”

Inosuke flushes, he can only tell because it goes all the way down his neck.

It’s a short walk to the well, built specifically for their household. Tanjiro shows the boy how it works, who seems fascinated by how the water magically appears. Even when he explains that water lies at the bottom there’s no sign of understanding.

“Water comes from streams or ponds or lakes! If it were underground I’d know.”

Finding its best not to argue the other simply sighs. “I’m sure you’re right. Can you help me carry a bucket inside? It’ll go faster with both of us helping.”

Inosuke carries the buckets simply by their handles. He doesn’t complain of any soreness but Tanjiro knows they must be sore. He tries to show the boy how to balance them over his back with a staff, but Inosuke scoffs and lets the pole drop.

He runs back to the house, letting half the water spill in his haste. Tanjiro follows behind a much slower pace. When he gets inside there’s splatters of water all over the floor. He steps carefully around each puddle.

“Thank you Inosuke-kun, I’m glad you’re here to help out.” The boy basks in the attention. His face is covered but it’s not hard to tell he’s smiling.

As Tanjiro sets down the buckets Inosuke is already racing back out the door. It takes him longer in the kitchen, helping to tip the full buckets onto the stove.

Inosuke waits for him back at the well, but that just seems like it’s because he doesn’t know how to refill them. “Do your trick thingy again!” He cries. The boy is surprisingly patient while Tanjiro ties the bucket to the rope and carefully lowers it.

Again it comes up filled with clear cold water. Again the minute Inosuke has both baskets firmly in hand he runs off cackling. They cycle through the act a few times until Kie has enough to fill the bath.

“Whaddo we do now?” Inosuke stands in the middle of the bathroom.

“Oh well you do this part alone. Use the cloth and bucket to wipe off all the dirt and then you can soak for a bit.” There’s steam rising from the water. It’s sure to be a relaxing bath.

“And how do I do that?”

“You just… y’know scrub down with the rag.” He mimics the motion with his hand.

“Agh! Stay here and show me. You’re no good at talkin’.” The boy peels off his mask and fixes Tanjiro with a disgruntled stare.

He pauses briefly. There’s nothing odd about sharing a bath but the thought of sitting right next to Inosuke as they soak flusters him. “O-ok.”

It takes Tanjiro longer to undress. He has several layers that must be peeled off. Inosuke only needs to shuck off his loose pants and is finished. He squats on one of the stools and waits.

“Here turn around. Usually when people bathe together you’re supposed to wash each others backs. It’s supposed to help you bond.” Tanjiro drags another stool nearby and waits.

Inosuke seems paranoid about turning his back on the other boy. “Shit like this is stupid,” he declares. “I can get just as clean bathin’ in the river!”

Tanjiro hums as he dips the rag in lukewarm water and begins to scrub. “Don’t you get cold in the winter though? I can barely stand the ice even when I’m all wrapped up.”

“Ha! I got thick skin from livin’ in the moun’ins. I don’t get cold unless I wanna.”

“I’ve never heard of that, but then again I guess I’ve never met someone who really lived in the wilderness. There’s some hunters down in the village but they still return home often.”

“And that’s what makes me stronger than them. I bet I could beat up any of your phony moun’in men.”

Tipping his head back Tanjiro laughs lightly. “That’d be a sight to see. Here, you do my back now.” Both boys flip around.

“Ah- but don’t go too rough or anything.” It’s like he can already sense Inosuke’s clumsy hands.

“Course I won’t, ‘m not stupid!” Continuing to mutter under his breath the boy tries to mirror the way Tanjiro had scrubbed his back. It’s hard to tell if it’s working where there’s no dirt to actually scrub. He doesn’t understand the point of this but is still happy to participate.

Perhaps picking up on the poorly hidden nerves the redhead speaks again, “Are you sure you haven’t done this before? You’re really good at it.” It’s a partial truth, just enough honesty added so he doesn’t grimace at the thought of lying.

“I’m the best aren’t I? You’re probably the cleanest you’ve ever been right now.”

Tanjiro laughs. “That’d be impressive! If you’d like it’s probably fine for us to get in the bath now.”

Inosuke takes that as a sign to immediately drop his rag and climb in. It’s more of a jump though really, sending some waves that crash over the edges of the tub. “Ha, It’s hot! How’d that happen?” He waves his fingers under the water as if he can catch the heat.

The other boy steps in much slower. The warmth is a bit of a shock, especially after being in the cold all day. Immediately it paints his skin in a reddish tone. “It’s nice though right?”

“Mm it’s hot!” It’s not a confirmation either way but Inosuke seems pleased with the temperature. Soon enough his skin too is flushed.

Their pink knees touch in the small tub. Inosuke continues to splash around a bit while Tanjiro simply soaks. His eyes crinkle in amusement.

“And you do this every night?”

“Oh no! Only once or twice a week. Usually we just wash up briefly the rest of the time.”

“Huh, well if I hadda bath like this one I’d soak every night! You’re dumb for not doin’ that.”

“It’s a lot of work. I don’t like making mama do more than she has to.”

Inosuke nods in understanding. Even when simply mentioned he still seems rather entranced by Kie. “I’ll start doin’ it then. You can show me how you’re uh, tover works and let me use it to take hot baths every night… And I might let you join too sometimes.” He mumbles the last bit, looking down at his legs.

Tanjiro feels warmth spread within his chest, confusion clouds it though. “Tover? What’s that?”

“Y’know the- fire thingy on the table.”

“Stove?”

“That’s what I said! Stofe!”

The redhead laughs. “St-oh-vuh. Say it like that.”

“Stofe!”

Tanjiro opens his mouth wide, hoping it’ll make his pronunciation more clear. “Stove.”

Angered by the incessant nagging Inosuke’s hand slaps over the other boy’s mouth. “I’m saying it right! Stofe. Stofe stofe stofe!”

Trying a tactic often used on his siblings the boy licks the hand covering his lips. Usually the offender would jerk away and complain but Inosuke just grins.

“Ha, something that weak won’t bother me. You’ll have a try harder.”

Which he does. Tanjiro grabs the boy’s wrist and tries to wrench it off. It’s not surprise that it’s a hard task, looking at the muscles on him. Even with all his strength he can only peel back the fingers one at a time before they snap back over his face.

As their tussle gets more intense water is sent splashing over the sides of the tub. Tanjiro would’ve backed off long ago but Inosuke seems intent on covering his mouth even if the other seemingly gives up.

He rests for a moment before trying to give one last good attempt. Tanjiro springs upwards to grab at the boy. It’s a good jump that catches him off guard. As he settles on top of Inosuke the hand finally rips off his face.

The heat of the bath alongside the brief tussle leaves his chest heaving. They lean close together within the small tub. Inosuke is so close to him.

There’s a knock at the door. “Nee-san! I don’t wanna take a cold bath.” Takeo’s voice is muffled through the doorway. When there’s no response he knocks on the door, shouting louder, “Hurry up!”

Tanjiro sits back up. “We’re almost done.” Inosuke’s face is an even brighter red. They don’t acknowledge their closeness, just climbing out and pulling towels over their hips.

In a mixture of embarrassment and an unusual burst of anger (it’ll disappear in a moment) he rushes out the door quickly. “Be more patient,” he scolds. It’s spoken boldly but not in a yell. Though it’s the most outspoken he usually gets.

Instead of wilting Takeo just laughs. “Somebody wanted aloooone time.” Immediately after the rest of his siblings join in.

“Mama!” Tanjiro isn’t sure what else to do, he feels put on the spot. He shouldn’t be flustered but something grows inside his chest. “Mama they’re bugging the guest.”

“I’m not bugged!” Inosuke comes out with the towel barely clinging to him. It’s no surprise when it drops. Everyone squeals before running. It sets something off within him, some sort of predator instinct born from living in the wild, and the boy sets chase. Tanjiro has to then join the commotion, holding desperately to the towel around his waist.

It’s quite the sight when Kie finally does emerge from the bedroom.

#kny #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #inosuke #inosuke hashibira #tanjiro #tanjiro kamado #inotan #inosuke x tanjirou #tanjirou #non-slayer au

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zwy01 · 1 year ago

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Noble OC! Raskreia’s mom doodles!!!

Finally got to do Raskreia’s other parent lol. Very excited to introduce her! She’s alive in the present day in my Millennium AU (check out my pinned post for more info) and while she doesn’t really have an active role in the foreground, she is quite influential and does move things around in the shadows.

Her outfit is lined with black feathers, which gives her the image of a mysterious raven.

Desdemona Kravei: often addressed as Lady Desdemona, Mona, Moni (by friends) or simply just Desdemona. Never addressed with her surname. She’s Raskreia’s mother, and the Previous Lord’s childhood friend. She and PL were not romantically involved; she offered her soul fragment to PL when he needed an heir, and they co-parented Raskreia as friends. She’s part Kravei, part Agvain, and part other clans. Her exact heritage is a mystery but she’s Roctis Kravei’s not-too-distant relative and their blood relation is close enough for the Kravei soul weapon Lantheart to go to her after he and Ignes died, though she constantly rejected it and Lukedonia had no choice but to create Cordelia as the next pure blooded Kravei heir and Clan Leader. Desdemona is an extremely beautiful woman with a calming and sometimes creepy aura. Her appearance mostly suggests that she is a Kravei, though her signature long black hair glitters a gorgeous dark red hue in the sun, which is a very prominent Agvain trait. She passes this trait (which skips her daughter Raskreia) onto her grandson Reiner, who looks a lot like her.

Desdemona is quite unusual for a noble, for many reasons. First of all, she rejects everything that could possibly be tied to her identity, which includes her surname Kravei. It’s not that she dislikes the Kravei clan members or anyone in particular. There are no personal grudges or complicated issues. It’s more that she just feels like she doesn’t want to belong to them, or any of the nobles clans, for that matter. Her heritage is there and obvious when people look at her, but she hates it when she gets associated with them. She wants to be alone, by herself, without any particular identity. Desdemona’s simply… herself. Literally. That’s all she needs. The second reason is that she doesn’t care about Lukedonia at all. Her clan members, fellow nobles in general, whatever drama’s going on… nope, she’s having none of that. She simply doesn’t care nor does she have the patience for any of it. So abandoning her surname is “her way” of saying that she has separated herself from the rest of Lukedonian society. It was a clear message for all the other nobles to back off and not bother her, no matter what their latest affairs were. Even in urgency she wouldn’t act. Sure, you could go to her and ask for objective advice, as she is great at giving them and doesn’t mind the act of talking. But don’t expect her to get up and actually do anything to help. Lukedonia could prosper, and she’d still prefer to live in the shadows. Lukedonia could burn down and perish, fine then; she’d die alongside them with no resistance. If that is to become her fate then bring it on. So be it. This mindset is essentially her philosophy of life. This leads to a lot nobles thinking Desdemona doesn’t care about them. Which is pretty much true, because she doesn’t exactly feel much kinship with her own kind, if at all. Even she herself feels foreign in her own skin sometimes. Her identity as a noble is one she doesn’t exactly want go along with, and she isn’t too keen on being referred to as one either. If you reminded her that she in fact is a noble too, she would simply answer “…yes, perhaps that is what I was born as, nothing more. Did you seriously expect another answer?” In a way, you could say that she has separated herself from most of Lukedonia, aside from the several specific individuals whom she genuinely cares about. Desdemona would’ve abandoned her first name too, but then she realized people would have a very hard time referring to her at all, so she begrudgingly decided to keep it in the end. Desdemona staying completely neutral and uninvolved in any of Lukedonia’s affairs means that she is, unintentionally, a very powerful balancing force in the background. She was never out there in the open screaming “I don’t care about any of you”. Rather, she remains silent and stays loyal to the shadows, essentially creating a barrier between herself and the rest of her world. One could go to her and tell her blablabla is going on with blablabla clan, she’d nod and then forget about it. One could even tell her about their plans to betray Lukedonia and slaughter a good portion of their own population, cool. She doesn’t care. She is known as the wise to her people, as she would give advice to just about anyone. Want to do good? She’ll give you a wonderful way to do that. Want to commit genocide? Here’s the most efficient way to do it without getting your hands dirty. It goes in both extreme ways.

She isn’t good, nor is she evil. Desdemona, to her very core, is impartial. She knows things, and will let you on her knowledge too if you ask. But just because it’s an answer doesn’t mean it has to align with any morals, it is what it is, an answer. That was her way of thinking, which was mesmerizing and fearsome at the same time. In the shadows she has the power to move things around, as a single piece of advice had the potential to inspire people to do either extreme good or extreme evil. For this reason, even though PL was her friend, he was wary of her as he knows what she’s truly like. Desdemona preferring to stay in the background doesn’t mean that she rejects people completely. Specifically, aside from guests and/or advice seekers, she does in fact have a social life and friends whom she cares about, as they are individuals that matter to her. But Lukedonian society and general politics as a whole? Nope. Unless it’s a very very close friend, if she passed by an injured or dying person, she wouldn’t extend a helping hand nor would she kill them out of mercy; she would simply keep walking on her path. This extends to herself. If she is ever in danger, she will not expect any help to come, and let fate decide it for her. In other words, she is only truly terrifying because she is so fair to everything in the world.

Personality wise, she is generally pretty aloof and distances herself from the average noble, though she can be both physically and verbally affectionate with people she’s close with. If she makes the conscious effort, of course, because this doesn’t come naturally to her. Which extends to several individuals, and they are extremely flattered to receive this “special treatment” from none other than the Desdemona. But even her relationship with her loved ones are a bit special. If she cared about them, they’d definitely know. But say they need to do something to save the world, and want her to accompany them and fight together so the chance of success is higher and risk of failing/dying is lower? Sorry, she won’t come with you, that’s on you and you alone. Not any of her business, even if she does care about you. Of course she’d want you to be safe, but if you died, then… too bad. Hopefully you didn’t go painfully. That’s where Desdemona draws the line, and her friends and loved ones are aware of it. There are almost no exceptions, and they know to expect that from her. She isn’t purposely trying to unhelpful, that’s just how her logic works. In terms of fighting capabilities, she is quite skilled and powerful. She still won’t help, though. Which is exactly why she does absolutely nothing during the Invasion of Lukedonia arc, leaving her own daughter Raskreia and her Clan Leaders to fend for themselves.

Desdemona has two distinct hobbies. She lives alone in her own place, a massive estate all to herself. Occasionally she’d get visitors who come for advice, or she’d bring her daughter Raskreia back home when it’s her turn to watch her, but other than that, she has no one else living with her. One of the things that she does is record history with giant stained glass panels. Times of war, times of peace, the rise and fall of noble factions… anything really. She isn’t deliberately trying to be artistic, but she is very talented. Looking at her stained glass panels filled with story and the wonders of the world would get people emotional and they’d start crying. Her home is generally very dark, with no light at all other than sunlight or moonlight that shines through her glass panels at specific times of the day. For this reason, Raskreia didn’t like staying with her mother/soul fragment donor because to her it was suffocating and gloomy. Desdemona on the other hand thinks her home is a safe place and the perfect cave for herself. Whenever kid Raskreia didn’t want to stay with her mother anymore and wanted to leave, Desdemona would just set her daughter free and have her run back to PL. I did my part and watched my daughter, now that she doesn’t want to be here, my job is done. That’s how she thinks. Desdemona’s other hobby is making ephemeral artwork, the kind of stuff that’s not supposed to last. She’d go on a walk and rearrange fallen leaves, pebbles, etc. It brings her a feeling of contentment. Most of the time her works go unseen and eventually destroyed with the natural passing of time but every now and then, someone would come across her “artwork” and go “Ah, Mona was here”. In a way, this is a parallel to her philosophy of life. She takes and uses what’s there, and if it shall perish and be forgotten forever, then so be it. It is beautiful to some, and haunting to others. Desdemona doesn’t care about what anyone thinks though.

Moving onto her relationship with the other nobles. Only going to list the more relevant ones. For ones that are not mentioned, feel free to ask!

The Previous Lord: her childhood friend, obviously. Desdemona used to be even more indifferent towards her own kind prior to meeting PL (when they were both children) and in a way he changed her a LOT. For the better. Much better, actually. Desdemona’s parents had a very hard time with their daughter. She’d always ask things that made people question her morals, such as “why give sick people medicine? Why not let nature take its course and decide their fates for them?” and “unforeseen events are entirely the person’s own fault because they were not wise enough to predict it. Why spend your own resources to help them clean up their own mess?” And so on. She wasn’t trying to be cruel, that was just what made sense to her. On the other side, PL was a bright and optimistic child who was open to many things. Perhaps he was able to show Desdemona not necessarily an answer, but a different perspective to her clear-cut world view of everything. And he did succeed. Desdemona’s core was never influenced but she did change the way she acted, specifically that while she would still be indifferent towards most things, she’d just do so quietly without saying anything to people’s faces. And PL was the first person ever in this world to be affectionate with her (her own parents were too scared of her and avoided her at all costs) and she was able to experience something, which was the first ever fuzzy, warm feeling, right there in her chest. And for that Desdemona was extremely grateful. PL would also be physically affectionate with her, which she reciprocated. The truth is, she simply copied the act of hugging or hand holding but she essentially never does it intuitively. She just knew that people liked these kind of things, and not the why part. And it did feel nice to be cared for, so might as well do it too for someone she cares about. PL knew this and was more than flattered to know that she’s essentially saying saying he’s important to her. The two would grow up to be close despite the massive gap between their characters and such. PL was aware of Desdemona’s true nature, and she knows he knows. They’re both okay with it. In a way PL appreciated Desdemona’s straightforwardness, as she was as genuine as anyone could get, in a good and bad way, because her impartialness was both impressive and unsettling. And Desdemona appreciated PL for acknowledging her for who she was, and that he was the first person to show her kindness. People still got weirded out whenever they saw the two of them together because there’s the kind angelic one and then the cold creepy one. They themselves didn’t mind, though. Desdemona didn’t even hesitate when PL announced that he needed an heir. She volunteered her soul fragment immediately, much to everyone’s shock, because usually she never involves herself with any affairs. Surprise surprise, she actually cared enough for someone to cut her own lifespan shorter to give them her soul fragment. Maybe she wasn’t so indifferent after all.

Raskreia: Her daughter. While Raskreia was the result of Desdemona simply donating her own soul fragment to PL as a friend, and not a child born out of romantic love, Desdemona still viewed Raskreia as her daughter, and loved her like one, though it probably wasn’t obvious on the outside. Just as Desdemona constantly made the conscious effort (and not out of intuition) to be affectionate, little Raskreia could sense that her mother’s actions were unnatural. Forced, even. Perhaps that was what it felt like from a daughter’s perspective. The sudden pauses, and the stiffness in her mother’s movements. Perhaps Mother doesn’t want me here, she thinks. And it doesn’t help when Desdemona’s home is all dark and gloomy. Raskreia dreaded when it was her mother’s turn to watch her, because she’d bring her back home and it was nothing but scary to her. In general, her mother was just creepy. Little Raskreia wasn’t trying to be mean, her instincts were just telling her to avoid these things at all costs. So one time, Raskreia decided to tell her father PL that she didn’t want to be at mom’s anymore. To Raskreia’s horror, her mother was there and heard the whole thing. Desdemona’s only reaction was basically “Hmm, okay. I’ll peace out then.” And simply just. Left. Desdemona didn’t mind at all, actually.

Yes she loved Raskreia but she also understood that if her daughter didn’t want to be in her presence, then she shouldn’t force it because letting things fold out naturally is the way to be. That was the way she loved her daughter…to just let it be. Desdemona’s not against Raskreia returning to her voluntarily if she’s ready for it again or somehow wants to stay in contact, but she doesn’t mind if Raskreia never comes back. In her mind, she already did her part as PL’s friend and maybe she wasn’t needed anymore, and that’s fine too. She just never actually verbally told her daughter that she’s welcome at any time. Raskreia misunderstood it and took Desdemona leaving as a sign of her mother not wanting her as a daughter either, which is not true. This causes little Raskreia distress and their relationship changes permanently, and they never clear up the misunderstanding. Desdemona since then was out of the parenting picture and Raskreia was basically raised by PL. Prior to PL’s death, he asked if Desdemona wanted to stay behind to see the world after him, and with nothing better to do, she agreed. After adult Raskreia succeeds her father as Lord, Desdemona is still lurks in the shadows just like she has always done so. Raskreia usually still avoids her mother, but whenever even her advisor Gejutel couldn’t offer her a solution to things and she’s desperate for guidance, she reluctantly visits her mother. Then they would have a very formal exchange. Desdemona would salute her daughter and address her as Lord. Not my daughter, not Raskreia, just Lord. Which bothers Raskreia a lot because she wonders if this is her mother’s attempt to tell her she still doesn’t see her as a daughter, by refusing to call her by her name, which is not the case at all. In truth Desdemona really is just showing respect to her Lord as a citizen of Lukedonia, even if this Lord happens to be her own kid. It’s the standard procedure, and she is merely adhering to it. To Desdemona, Raskreia is her Lord before she is her daughter, therefore she acts accordingly. Nevertheless, Raskreia takes it personally, though she never shows it. Then Raskreia would ask for advice, and after she gets answers, she leaves. There is nothing more to their exchange. No more words. No questions of how are you doing, is everything alright, I’ve missed you, etc. None of that. Raskreia secretly hopes that there will be something more to their interaction, only to be disappointed each time. Sometimes she would even hope that her mother would scold her a bit, just tell her that her reign is ineffective, as it is. But her mother never says anything, just as silent as ever, only answering questions being asked of her. Nothing more. Desdemona in fact does believe that Raskreia’s reign is a shit one, but as usual she doesn’t care about Lukedonia’s drama so no reason for her to say so. The general silence from her mother just tortures Raskreia even more, but with her own sense of pride, it is hard for her to bring up any of this. If Mother doesn’t make an effort, then neither should I, she thinks. In general, their mother-daughter relationship is a really unconventional and strange one. They obviously care for each other, but the way it manifests just leads to misunderstanding and a lot of guessing, especially on Raskreia’s part. Their relationship remains the same way throughout the storyline of my Millennium AU. Cold and ever so distant. Nothing less, nothing more. P.s. To this day, Raskreia is bitter because she suspects that her mother definitely had something to do with Reiner suddenly leaving Lukedonia, because her son is not the type of person to come up with that by himself, and someone must have given him the idea. But there is no proof. Out of respect, she does not mind-read her mother, but she is definitely suspicious of her.

Reiner: Raskreia’s son, and her grandson. Now this is where things begin to get interesting. Desdemona was fairly uninvolved with parenting Raskreia (well, Raskreia thought her mother was creepy so) and the total amount of time they spent together all added up wasn’t much honestly. But with her only grandson Reiner? She was very much involved in his life, and at a very a young age too. You see, Raskreia was often busy as Lord and didn’t have much time for little Reiner. During the time they did interact, she was always very strict on him, treating him more like her heir and subject rather than her son, a child who needed affection and attention. And Reiner’s other parent Razark just… didn’t really do anything about Raskreia’s relationship with their son, because being the blindly loyal husband he was, he believed that whatever Raskreia’s doing, was the best, and he had no reason to change the way things are done. In a way by not intervening (like he really should have) he was practically enabling Raskreia’s not good way of raising their son. While Reiner does love both of his parents (in a mildly twisted and unhealthy way), he isn’t sure about whether he trusts them. But with his grandmother Desdemona, he both loves and fully trusts her. She’s actually the only person to whom he feels this way in the entirety of Lukedonia and the Millennium AU in general. Their initial grandmother-grandson meeting was a completely unintentional one. When Reiner was born, Desdemona had the news delivered to her by another noble so she was aware of the birth of her grandson. She didn’t make an active effort to meet him though, as whatever happened out there still wasn’t any of her business, even if it was the birth of a new family member, someone who shared her blood.

When Reiner was old enough to wander around on his own, whenever he got tired from his momlord’s suffocating strictness and his father’s blind loyalty and enablement, he would walk around Lukedonia’s territory by himself to get a breather. By chance, he happened to stumble upon Desdemona’s home. It was dark and empty, with the only light source being the light that shone through the beautiful stained glass panels. Normally people would find this to be eerie but to Reiner, it was strangely comforting. He would calmly sit in the darkness and observe the globs of colorful, dim light on the ground that moved around slowly as the angle of the sun changed. There was no company for him here, but at least there was no one to tell him he’s a disappointment either. Turns out, there was someone lurking in the dark. The owner of this place. The silhouette did not move though, as if it were trying to not disturb him. Reiner would then greet the figure in the shadows with a full introduction of himself and apologize for intruding their home. Curiously, the figure stepped forward and revealed itself as a mysterious woman. Reiner had never met her before, yet he felt a sense of familiarity to her. She first asked Reiner if he knew who she is, to which he answered no. She then asked him if he would like to know who she is. He answered yes. That was how Desdemona revealed to Reiner that she is his maternal grandmother. Reiner was just. Shocked because his parents never told him he had a living grandparent. But at the same time, he was happy. Because now he had a new family member, and family is what makes you stronger, just like what his Kertia father had always been telling him, right…? Then Reiner remembered that he should be home now, and hurried away. But not before cheerfully saying, “Goodbye, Grandma Mona!” to a now very intrigued Desdemona. He also promised to come back again. Desdemona didn’t take this seriously and thought Reiner was just saying that to be polite. Though she didn’t pay too much attention to him, she found that this “Reiner” kid kept appearing on her mind once in a while for some reason. Perhaps this was fate. To her surprise, he did come back, and very excited too, to talk to his new “Grandma”. The occasional back and forths became a regular thing, and fast forward to Reiner as an adult, they’re basically best friends. Grandma and grandson. Truth be told, Desdemona had never been so close with anyone in her entire life, until now. Not even PL, her childhood friend, and of course not her daughter Raskreia either. And neither was she this close with her ex-lover, and all of her other friends whom she spent time with back in the day. For the first time in her life, she felt the feeling of “I love this person and I am willing protect them with my life” which was very surprising to her. For the entirety of her existence there had never been a single exception to her philosophy of being completely uninvolved and impartial to the world, but it seemed like that has changed too. And that person is her precious grandson Reiner. Reiner loves her back. He would confide in her his woes, family issues with parents, feeling like a disappointment, being extremely burnt out from the pressure of maintaining himself as the perfect prince… etc. and she would feel sad for him. The neutral Desdemona is actually sad on someone else’s behalf. Reiner doesn’t even know that this type of reaction from her is the rarest sight ever. As time goes by and Reiner’s mental condition worsens, he asks his grandmother for advice. And…. Boom. That’s where everything started, where the idea was first put into his head. She suggests that he leaves Lukedonia. If this was the source of his pain, then leaving everything behind and going to somewhere else for a fresh start, is the best idea. Reiner brushes it off at first, not even thinking of it as an option, but it slowly becomes a reality for him. Maybe grandma is right.

You could say that the three of them are so eerily similar, with each of then so stubbornly loyal to their own beliefs and world view. That being Desdemona believing that everything should be left on its own to fate in a strong-eats-weak world, Raskreia believing she needs to reign with absolute control because stability is of upmost importance, and finally Reiner believing he needs fo free everyone in Lukedonia and make it a democracy where everyone has equal input in deciding how to live. Reiner’s final attempts to change Raskreia’s views fail, and feeling utterly exhausted and defeated, he decides to leave Lukedonia forever. But not before visiting grandmother one last time. They say their goodbyes, and Desdemona wishes him the best of luck. Strangely, she takes off her ring and gives it to Reiner, instructing him to wear it and never take it off. She doesn’t tell him why, but he could tell that she is serious. So he reassures her that he will, and that is the last they ever see of each other. What Reiner doesn’t know is that this ring has a special, single-use protection spell imbued with it. In the distant past, Desdemona had worked with one of her fellow nobles, a Clan Leader, to make this charm and only succeeded in making a single one after many, many years of trying. Desdemona correctly predicted that Raskreia would deem Reiner a traitor and go after him. The ring’s spell will protect Reiner from one single fatal blow as long as he’s still wearing it. To be precise, it will transfer the damage and fatal wound Reiner receives to Desdemona herself. Should Raskreia really land a fatal blow on Reiner, he will survive, and Desdemona will die. Desdemona on the other hand sees this as the last gift she can give to her grandson. She is willing to sacrifice herself for this child. While she hopes that this day will never come, she is fully prepared for it. She never told Reiner the truth behind this ring because then he would be heartbroken and not wear it. This is the only exception that Desdemona ever makes in her entire life, to go all out to save someone. And to her, it’s worth her everything. Grandmother and grandson both miss each other very badly, and they both know they will likely never see each other again. A beautiful yet tragic relationship.

Leona: her ex-girlfriend. Desdemona and Leona were on-and-off lovers, before Leona left for her mission. Leona adored her Moni for her weirdness and her very unique, clear-cut world view, and Desdemona appreciated her Leonie for her dazzling energy and ability to consistently switch between being super unhinged to being in total control. Their energy levels were completely different, with Leona being the very active and energetic one while Desdemona was the quieter and more passive one. The bright sun and the dark shadows. But they worked out somehow, and even though they weren’t together all the time, it was a time of happiness. Before Leona departed for her mission, she formally broke up with Desdemona. Even though Leona didn’t give any details, Desdemona knew that this was a serious thing. So she expressed her understanding, Leona thanked her, and they part from each other on good terms. Leona is one of the few people that Desdemona cares about. She is part of her inner circle. (apparently Leona’s type is tired people lmaoo)

Zephyrus: her old friend. And the secret person whom she worked with to create that magic ring she eventually gives to grandson Reiner, prior to his departure from Lukedonia. The Volo soul weapon’s ultimate skill is transferring a fatal blow from one ally to another, and after many years research, the two of them were able to replicate this skill onto a one-time artifact. This was long before Zephyrus and Leona departed for their mission. Desdemona’s instincts told her that she needed to do this, to make an artifact with this exact protection spell. And she was right, as she eventually gave it to Reiner. To this day Zephyrus honors his promise of keeping this ring a secret between the two of them, and not even his family knows about it. Zephyrus is one of the few people that Desdemona cares about. He is part of her inner circle.

Roctis: didn’t care about him. He was her relative, but that doesn’t change anything because she abandoned the Kravei surname long ago, so to her he was just like any other noble. As kids they did bump into each other more often than members of other clans. She never made an effort to get to know him, though.

Lagus: didn’t care about him. He was a frequent visitor who asked for her advice, before he betrayed Lukedonia. She actually put a lot of ideas into his head, as she would always answer honestly when asked for advice, even if the nature of the question is intended for evil. Lagus actually told her about him planning to take over Lukedonia one day, because he knew that she didn’t care and wouldn’t tell anyone else either. She just nodded and told him to do what he wanted, and if he succeeds, then that is because he is stronger than them and so be it. Lagus had planned to make her his advisor once he takes over Lukedonia, but that never happens because he died so.

Urokai: didn’t care about him. He was her relative because she’s also part Agvain. She never paid any attention to him but for some reason he was very, very scared of her. He believed that if he stared into her eyes, she would suck his soul out. Gave him quite the chills.

Zarga: didn’t care about him. Just like Lagus, sometimes he visited her for advice. She was the one who suggested that he should follow Urokai, when he asked what he should do about Urokai wanting to leave Lukedonia.

Luzia: Claudia’s daughter and the heir to Tradio. Desdemona is the only person in the entire Millennium AU to know about Luzia’s special secret underground lab, where all kinds of creepy illegal experiments are being done. Because Luzia willingly tells her about it, asking for advice on what kind of shady experiments to run, forbidden material to collect, etc. Luzia somehow just knows that Desdemona won’t share this with others, because the latter literally doesn’t care about what anyone does. This is the same correct prediction that Lagus made back then, when he consulted with Desdemona about his plans to take over Lukedonia. Same mindset. In a way, Luzia truly is Lagus’ granddaughter. And Desdemona is a surprisingly knowledgeable on shady topics. From there you can assume what their conversations are like.

Azurine: Zephyrus’ daughter and the heir to Volo. Same deal with Luzia, except Azurine comes to Desdemona with the intention to gain knowledge to help the world. As usual, Desdemona doesn’t care about whether you’re doing good or evil. Anyways, Azurine is here to ask questions like what poisons she should take next for her antidote research, how to increase her own poison tolerance etc. etc. Stuff for the good for of the people. Desdemona gives great advice on that too, which Azurine appreciates, but the latter just can’t help but wonder how the former even knows so much about things that are supposed to be the Volo’s specialty. What Azurine doesn’t know is the fact that in the past Desdemona had worked together with none other than her very own father and Clan Leader. To make a magic ring, or something. To this day Zephyrus honors the promise between himself and Desdemona, to keep it a secret between the two of them. Not a word to anyone, not even his own daughter Azurine. Azurine, and the rest of Lukedonia, would continue to be oblivious to this piece of knowledge.

Cordelia: the current Kravei Clan Leader, and the youngest of the fifteen nextgen nobles. Desdemona is very fond of this girl, to everyone’s surprise. The eccentric, aloof Desdemona who doesn’t even show much concern for her own daughter Raskreia, is being extra nice to this little Kravei girl. Perhaps it’s because Cordelia’s a fellow Kravei, but Desdemona abandoned her own surname a long time ago. Perhaps it’s because Cordelia looks like her grandson Reiner, but Desdemona isn’t the type of person to favor a someone just because they look like a familiar. No one knows exactly why. You could even say that Desdemona dotes on Cordelia. Cordelia is a bit confused but she appreciates this weird Lady who is seemingly even willing to take care of her. Cordelia is part of Desdemona’s inner circle. Though this affection indirectly puts Cordelia under immense pressure because the last time Desdemona was ever this nice to someone was when she was with Reiner, and Reiner ended up leaving Lukedonia. This leads to Raskreia (no so discreetly) keeping Cordelia under extra surveillance, because in her misunderstanding she suspects that Cordelia is up to no good either, because that woman is fond of her. Poor Cordelia.

…and that concludes relationships for now!! Yayy!! Maybe I’ll do the other characters in the future.

And in general a few quotes from Lady Desdemona, the great and terrifying:

1. “…Who am I, you ask? Good question. I don’t know either. Perhaps you can tell me.”

2. “Good and evil… the classic duality of nature. They are merely words people use to label and justify their actions. Such a concept simply does not exist to me. Do not associate me with such shallowness.”

3. (to PL) “A hug… that’s what you call this, correct? When I put my arms around someone’s body? I’m still learning it. How long do I leave them there? When do I pull them away?”

4. (to Raskreia) “That is correct. ‘Mother’ is the word people would use to objectively describe me, in relation to you. There is no need for you to address me as such, if you do not wish to.”

5. (to Reiner) “Go. Go now. Fly away from this place, and be free. Do not force yourself to linger here, where the only ending that awaits you is misery and madness. Leave before your soul withers here, where no hope is found. Or, you could stay here, if that is what you wish. Then I will be right by your side, and we shall witness the end of this world together. …Do not fret, child. There is no need to worry about me, or any of the others. The only person you can betray is yourself. Follow your heart. Set yourself free from this prison, or stay in it. The choice is yours…my little one.”

6. (to Leona) “Leonie, dearie, please come down. We can dance together somewhere else. Just please refrain from jumping around on my unfinished piece of stained glass. Hey! I can see a crack already!”

7. (to Zephyrus) “Thank you. Thank you accepting my unreasonable request in the first place. We really did it. You’re the only person I could trust for this. I will keep this ring safe with me. I have a bad feeling that I will need this one day.”

Aaaand that’s it for now!! I’m so excited to draw her again lol. Thank you for reading and see you next time!

#noblesse #manhwa #myart #oc #original character #millennium au #desdemona kravei

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not-a-perfect-metaphor · 2 years ago

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Hi! How are you doing? I wanted to get your opinion on another drama in the fandom after The Winchesters finale. All I get from it is facepalm. I don't remember reading it here or elsewhere, but it was saying that after the spn finale, we're in for a deliberate campaign to break the bond between J2 in the public eye. And they clearly succeeded. It's like many fans have gone crazy and can't stop saying for years that J2 were never friends or about friendship breakdown and betrayal. And this is despite the fact that J2 are still close and dear to each other. They still want to work together and will definitely restart spn one day. Not to mention them as a strong couple who have been through a lot. And I think this kind of drama is even good for them. J2 tinhat not much left and not as much attention and emphasis on them anymore. Even just j2 fans are hard to find. There are only individual aggressive fans of each of the J2 and crazy Hellers. At times I think it's even better that way. They can be together without worrying so much about damage control.

I’ve started and restarted this answer so many times, because I feel like it’s such a delicate topic but also something that definitely does need to be addressed.

And I thank you for taking the time to write it out so eloquently!

I guess I’ll start by saying that I absolutely have noticed the number of people jumping onto the anti-‘J2-togetherness’ train, to the point where I’ve been trying to figure out for a while now what factors could be contributing to it.

Mainly because the actual reality of the Js on a day-to-day basis does not match up with what’s been said (with what’s being said), and yes, there definitely have always been those who have projected their own discomforts/disappointments/opposing views etc. onto the Js. Of course we all know that, but you’re certainly right about the fact that it’s become much more prevalent in recent months (I kind of feel like it’s been happening ever since the sequel debacle, really).

And on that note, I do think the issues surrounding the sequel undeniably planted seeds of resentment/negative feelings in probably a pretty big percentage of at least the individuals who were once pro-J2 and who are now anti-J2, and I’m not about to pass judgment on anyone or try to claim that anyone’s feelings/opinions are wrong or bad, because that’s never been what I’m about here.

What I have always said about the prequel drama is essentially this-

The strength of the 15+ year relationship between Jared and Jensen allowed them to heal from all of that, and even in the midst of it, I never doubted they would…and they absolutely, 100% have.

That’s honestly what genuinely matters, at least as it pertains to our discussion about the closeness/trust/love between the two of them, and I guess I would just say…or I would hope…that anyone holding onto their own disappointments might at least be able to distinguish between their own feelings and how the Js have stated and shown they feel.

But again, to each their own.

The other element to mention, I think, is the glaringly obvious one, and something I’ve touched on a few times since the wrapping up of SPN.

It was always going to be really difficult for us, on the outside looking in, to no longer (for now, anyway) get to experience that amazingly personal and constant view of Jared and Jensen’s relationship to the degree we’d all become so accustomed to throughout the decade and a half of SPN, and I think some people lost sight of the fact that just because we’re not able to witness as much of their time together/hear about as much of their relationship/etc. doesn’t mean it isn’t still happening.

And yes, it’s common sense. But I think for some, probably those who weren’t as heavily invested in the first place (although that’s just speculation), the shift was misinterpreted as being linked to a decline in the Js intimacy instead of simply a decline in the amount of that intimacy we get to see.

As for a more formal ‘set-up’ of these rumors and speculations, that’s not something I’ve been privy to or heard anything about, although I’ll absolutely agree with you on the fact that whether there was any staging or simply just the natural progressions one would expect, the dimmed spotlight on the nature of Jared and Jensen’s relationship has certainly allowed them some more freedom and peace, which of course is a good thing.

And it’s not anything we didn’t all realize would happen, those of us who’ve been around for this for as long as we have been. We’ve been talking it over since the start of SPN’s final season.

Digging into these anti-J2 posts, I can tell you that what I personally found is that the vast majority of them, as has always been the case, are originating from hellers, with a small (although, yes, increased) percentage of them seemingly coming from previously pro-J2 folks.

In the end, I guess I’d really love to hear from others and get any additional opinions on this, so please, if you have something to add, let me know!

Edit: as far as J2 tinhats disappearing, I don’t think that’s actually necessarily the case. I know that I tend to vanish for sometimes quite long periods of time, but that’s always been the case, and I see the same group of us (not entirely, but the bulk of us) still wearing our hats and enjoying the Js here on Tumblr. 😊 So definitely hang in there, my friend!

#j2 #j2 tinhat #my ramblings

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sweetcloverheart · 2 years ago

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Clover Rants Miraculously: “Just Do It”

I often see the adage “Character X isn’t obligated to help Y be a better person” echoed in the fandom quite a lot (especially when it comes a certain blonde bully). Not that I disagree with it, mind you - heck, I’m a huge proponent of the idea of not forcing a character to forgive/absolve an enemy or someone that hurts them just because it’s what a “good person” does. I think it’s very important for anyone to learn “I can fix them” is not an obligatory reaction to someone being in a mood.

The problem I do have with this attitude is that it’s often hitched to the other idea that “X should just be good” (often also accompanied by “Well so-and-so has a similar backstory (except it’s often just a very surface level similarity) and they’re nice! Chloe has no excuse”). And while that attitude isn’t wrong, I feel like it doesn’t really address the issue with how Chloe’s “attempts” to be good could have been done/handled better

So I have to ask - how? How is Chloe supposed to just “be good” despite years of having it internalized to her that being a self-serving narcissist is the best way to live life? What steps should she take? How should she better herself?

Like, this is a show aimed at 7-8 year olds. Kids aren’t stupid or cruel from the jump yeah, but if often goes a long way to actually give them tools/advice on how to achieve the kinds of behavior/attitudes parents want them to embrace. Sometimes just saying “Just be nice” isn’t enough and some people do need the extra help/guidance.

“But you just said no one’s obligated to help someone that hurts them become a better person?” Yes I did - however, these two attitudes are not mutually exclusive in my opinion. Marinette isn’t obligated to act as Chloe’s therapist and hold her hand the whole way towards her redemption, true, and taking the steps forward is mostly on Chloe herself - but that doesn’t mean the former can’t try if she wants to, nor does it mean Chloe must be blocked from any and all people willing to give her the tools/instructions necessary to make these changes if they want to. There’s nothing wrong with a character receiving help to be a better person (especially if it can lead to them eventually continuing to improve on their own once the training wheels are gone). It doesn’t need to be “Oh all’s forgiven just don’t do it again okay!” or something along those lines. You can have Chloe being directly helped into being a better person than she is and emphasize that this is something she has to choose to do while showing that Marinette and co aren’t insta-forgiving her for all the bullying and torment for all those years.

Honestly, the majority of the issue comes solely from how the show set up the whole thing. I mean, let’s look at Chloe’s “arc” in seasons 2-3 for a bit - we had so many characters telling Marinette she needs to simply “be the bigger person” and give Chloe another chance because it might help her be nicer, but I don’t ever recall anyone actually giving...genuinely actionable advice on how to achieve this goal through these acts. No “maybe make her do some volunteer work and see if that helps”, or “Maybe help encourage nicer behavior by showing her the benefits of being nice and have her emulate you”, or “Maybe use your role as student president (or as Ladybug) to force Chloe to actually help out the class (even if it might fail because of her using her dad to get out of it)”, or even “Ask for help from her childhood friend who should be more involved in this plotline considering he is, y’know, her childhood friend”. Just keep “forgiving” the mean girl when she goes out of the way to humiliate you and give her a magic haircomb, and then hope for the best (and if it fails, we’ll blame you for not doing more/preventing her fall from grace even though we did nothing too and likely could of helped)! Yeah, Chloe only acted like a hero because of the Bee Miraculous and helped out, but what about being Queen Bee encouraged better behavior from her outside of “Well, Ladybug likes me! :)”. Who and what was encouraging her to bring out that same attitude in her civilian life? Why make the whole onus on Chloe’s self-improvement be on only her and Marinette’s shoulders when the folks pushing the former to play redeemer for the latter “clearly” saw good in her could have directly assisted? Having the cast “Give chances” can only go so far - they also need to give actual goals (or at least smaller achievable daily actions) for whosoever is being redeemed before we can say “Well, they tried”.

Also, why is it that only Marinette is making these efforts - where’s Bustier, who keeps claiming she thinks there’s good in Chloe when she prompts Marinette and the rest to turn the other cheek, to assist by reigning in Chloe’s bad behavior? Where’s her father, who’s totally willing to defy her order to send her half-sister back to New York but will still gladly shut down half the city because one particular person irked his daughter or stand back while she and his wife mistreat her, to finally put his foot down and stop using his position as mayor to allow her to act however she likes without repercussions? Where’s Adrien, who sees his childhood friend mistreating his classmates and friends (and future girlfriend), yet will defend the behavior with “that’s just how she is” and won’t intervene until it actually directly affects him (“Despair Bear”) or he learns about an event from years ago and only cares since that’s interfering with his relationship now (“Derision”)? Where’s Master Fu, who encouraged Marinette to let Chloe have the bee and stood to the side as the entire thing broke down and lead to “Miracle Queen” happening?

There were also no actions taken by the narrative to force reflection on her behavior - Situations like “Rogercop” (Getting her “best friend’s” dad fired), “Maladictator” (Causing her father to get akumatized over her flipflopped decision to leave the city), and “Miraculer” (intentionally hurting her “best friend’s” feelings/getting her targeted by Hawkmoth because of the ID reveal) should have been major changes for Chloe and put a halt on her status quo. Even “Despair Bear” (despite how much I like the episode), really only scratched the surface by having Adrien threaten to end their friendship and force Chloe to actually consider her behavior for 10 secs before going “LOL just kidding, she’s still awful” and sacrificed that small moment of potential character depth for the sake of a joke. Imagine how much more interesting it would have been if Chloe had gone for an insulting compliment to show she’s still mean but at least is trying maybe? Or have Adrien get upset that she went right back to bullying everyone and eventually made good on his threat at the end of season 3? Why not actually have more situations like that, that lose her friends and the privilege of her status that either forces her to reflect on her behavior or doubledown until she loses everything. Why can’t there be effort put in to try and make Chloe seem like she was trying (or not trying) and failing to be a good person - or having it actually look like the cast was failing to reform her by showing them actively doing things to force her to be nice and her failing at them/being a hero and refusing to help/be better despite Ladybug’s attempts to steer her in the right direction and have her lose her miraculous because of that (instead of the eventually made moot “hAWkmoTh kNoWS YouR iDEntIty” thing). How hard was it to show Chloe and everyone actually trying instead of just going “Well Marinette said Bustier and everyone tried to give her a chance (and no, I’m sorry - standing back while Chloe torments her classmates while also blocking Marinette/others from making any open opposition because they think that eventually the magical nonexistent switch in her brain will flip to “good little angel” if they just do nothing is not “trying” in any universe) so clearly she’s just evil” after spending a majority of the 4-5 season demanding the MC and audience take the “be the bigger person” approach while claiming Chloe has potential to stop being a brat.

#Clover Rants Miraculously #ML Salt #ML Spoilers #I spotted a queuety

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therealslimshakespeare · 5 months ago

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Hello, lovely sweetheart!

I am the anon who sent the message about Ida and Rosie’s relationship, that they are very fluid in their roles and are equals, they buy each other flowers, take turns paying the bill when they go out, and there is no authoritative figure in the house. Regarding Rosie’s experience before Ida, I think he had enough to know what he was doing and had a few serious girlfriends. However, even though he was experienced and quite good at relationships, nothing prepared him for the whirlwind that is Ida.

Ida, though not as experienced as Rosie, is a woman who absolutely knows what she wants, how she wants it, and when she wants it. She is determined, hardworking, and stubborn. With her, Rosie experienced emotions that were foreign to him. He realized that in a relationship where two people love each other unconditionally, gender roles don’t matter. You can kiss and be kissed as much as you want, cuddle all the time if you like, and not care about how masculine you look.

Therefore, he experienced many ‘firsts’ with Ida. When they finally have sex, he is probably the most nervous but also very excited. He is literally sweating and doesn’t know what to do. Ida needs to guide him because he looks a bit lost.

To summarise, anything and everything he had learned did not really matter anymore because with Ida, everything is brand new, more colourful , interesting, intriguing and exciting than anything he had ever experienced.

Does anything I have written make sense? I am so in love with Rosie and Ida that I tend to write whatever is in my head at the moment, so half the time I never know if what I write makes sense to others. 😂

Ok first off just because this may become a babble: when I get asks like this? It’s like you gifting me fanfic on my favorite people ever. Do you know how lovely that is? How many times i reread certain portions? I treasure them. Thank you.

Sense was made and more than that, it sent me nuts in enjoyment of it and whole hearted agreement. You’ve literally articulated what I’ve been trying to write out for myself as a vibe guideline for their dynamic, as it were.

No she’s not his first but she’s a first in every way, nonetheless. He knew it from the minute he met her, and one thing I love about them is that he is genuinely rabid for her but will keep that in check for half a lifetime if that’s what makes her comfortable.

Turns it’s a bit of both: his discipline and respect makes her feel comfortable enough to heal while his untempered desire for her despite how informed he is of where she’s been is, beyond empowering. Especially coming from a man who could have anyone and gave it all up just to have coffee with her every morning. And I think that’s the deal, he simply isn’t one for naïveté. And that’s very attractive to her and essential for her actually accepting him wanting to be with her.

The way your whole ask reminded me of this Nancy Mitford quote about finding true love:

She was filled with a strange, wild, unfamiliar happiness, and knew that this was love. Twice in her life she had mistaken something else for it; it was like seeing somebody in the street who you think is a friend, you whistle and wave and run after him, but it is not only not the friend, but not even very like him. A few minutes later the real friend appears in view, and then you can’t imagine how you ever mistook that other person for him

#Rosie x Ida #those who can

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foxybananaaaz · 2 years ago

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hey can I request elucien hc or oneshot for fwb but the "it's not just sex for me anymore" fight or fake dating but the "we're not really together, this is just pretend" fight

Speak Up

Main Pairing :: Elain Archeron/Lucien Vanserra

Summary :: “Weirdly enough, I actually understand you. I just told my sister last week that I needed to move out, because I needed more privacy with my boyfriend, who doesn’t exist. Funny how I didn’t seem to think this far ahead.”

Authors Note :: Another Prompt FanFic, thats Super Late! But Alas! I am getting to it! I am going to include Bitki, to further feel her out as a character, but yes. Let’s get to it! Anon who submitted, I know this is forever late, but I hope you enjoy! MODERN AU

Word Count :: 5.2k

Elain was running late, knowing that she was. Her phone made the pinging sound of a new text message in her bag making it incredibly obvious. But this time it wasn’t her fault. She genuinely was at the store planning to get some cat food for Renarde, before going to meet up with her friend. This was the only thing she had planned before going to meet with her friend until she met with her sisters while leaving the store.

They of course wanted to talk to her about the large party they were planning for her birthday, even though it wasn’t for another month. How many people? What colours should they go with? There was a reason she had asked the two of them to take care of it all, yet the way they refused to leave her alone asking all these questions when they would see her. They would even call in the middle of the night sometimes.

Nesta and she had been living in the city for a significantly less amount of time than Feyre. But even then, Elain had chosen to stay in, keep herself away from anyone in the city, other than her sisters friends. It wasn’t until just over a year that Elain had moved out of her sisters place, and into an apartment of her own.

It had gone well, except for, well—

“You can't just leave. You live here.” Feyre had said, looking at Elain, shock, and a mix of pain and anger shining in her eyes.

“Yeah, actually, I can. I’m an adult, older than you, actually. I do have somewhere to go, the money I’ve gotten has been given as a down payment. The lease has been signed. I also got a job. Which is a five-minute walk, from my new apartment. So yes, I can leave, and I kind of have to now.” Elain responded looking into her sisters eyes. “Feyre—”

“You can’t be alone. You’ve never been alone! You don’t know how to live alone!” Feyre responded in a sharp, quick tone that took Elain off guard, so much so that she forgot what she was going to say, and fell back on a lie. She could always get away with lying to her sisters. The was the best at lying, simply because they had never expected her to lie. Never thought her able to lie. So the fact that the next phrase she said was both unplanned, and a lie, she knew she would be upset with herself later.

“I also want somewhere I can spend time with my boyfriend, that isn’t out in public, but also does not have my baby sister, or her husband for that matter, hovering like hawks.” Elain kindly shot back she kept kind, though there was a bite to her words, a warning bite. She’s still the older sister, even if she rarely pushes the fact.

“I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.” Feyre responded, backing down only the slightest amount.

“That’s been the whole point. Hovering like hawks. Besides, it’s not like I can bring him here when there's really no safe place in the house. You and Rhys can enjoy yourselves however you like, there's nothing wrong with what you guys do behind closed doors, or with no doors. Or even in the hallways. I would however like to be somewhere I can go pee at night, without having to keep an ear open, each step of the way to the washroom.” Elain responded, simply trying to lighten the mood, and tease lightheartedly.

Elain then smiled at her younger sister warmly. “I will get a cat, so I won’t be completely alone.” It was then that Elain had pulled her younger sister into a hug, knowing it would help calm the nerves that were building in both of them down.

That was just over a year ago, and Elain had been doing just fine, despite Feyre’s concerns before she had left. The way her sisters had such little faith in her living on her own stung, but she had proved them wrong, and she was on their own now and thriving.

She finally made it to their table, and as she was sitting down all she heard was “It’s not hot, and it’s not cold. But it’s still coffee.”

Elain then took a rather large sip of the coffee, deciding not to mention how the coffee was not the way she took it in the least, given how she had been the one who was late. Putting her cup down, Elain simply groaned. “Sometimes I really do wish I were an only child.” Elain exclaimed, before sighing deeply, and looking into her coffee.

“Well, ‘Hello’ to you too then,” Bitki responded sarcastically, looking towards Elain, a smile hidden behind her coffee cup.

“You’re one to talk. ‘It’s not hot, and it’s not cold. But it’s still coffee.’ Where was your hello?” Elain asked, lifting an eyebrow at her friend, which simply resulted in Bitki butting her cup down and smiling even more.

“Oh, yes. I do love how we can skip the pleasantries. There really is no time for them anyway.” Elains friend commented looking above her head. At what? She didn’t even think Bitki knew. “So why is it today you wish you were an only child? The last time you were thinking this was when you moved to your apartment when they wanted to meet Mr. Doesn’t-Exist. You are always so close with your sisters.”

Elain tried to hold back a sigh, she really did. But she did end up sighing before she responded to her friends question. “Yes. You’re right. Though while I found a solution to, Mr. Doesn’t-Exist, and found someone in a similar situation, so we formed a fake relationship.” Elain explained, ignoring the look Bitki was giving her. “And now, that they’ve met him and gotten to know him, they’re asking if they should plan time during this god-forsaken party for a proposal.” Elain finished, refusing to look at her friend knowing what she would say.

“I told you from the beginning Elain. It was and is a stupid idea. Things get messy, and now they’re messy. You’re going to have to tell him about this before your sisters attack him with these questions like they did you.” Bitki explained, looking at Elain seriously.

“Bee, please don’t. Not right now.” Elain simply sighed in response.

“Elain. If you want my support, you’ve got it. All the way. But I’m not going to just sit here and sugarcoat things and coddle you by saying it's all going to be okay when I have no way of knowing that. Saying that just to make you happy, docile? That’s the kind of shit you wanted to get away from. Them treating you like a child. And you lied about having a boyfriend when Feyre threw in your face her doubts that you could make it and survive on your own, without ever giving you the chance to do so.”

Bitki reached across the table to take Elains hand in her own. “I’ve never seen you do better though. You’re thriving on your own. Just, you should have rectified the lie right away. Instead of a fake relationship, you probably could have been in a real relationship with him. You guys went in with the mindset of fake, and it wasn’t smart. And it’s starting to blow up in both of your faces."

Elain looked across the table at her friend, feeling a thankful smile crossing her face. It wasn't forced in the least, but that didn't stop the smile from feeling that way. Forced, stale. Fake. Elain did not need to wonder why this was, the knowledge was as simple as that of how to breathe.

In the year of fake dating 'Mr. Doesn't-Exist' as her best friend so lovingly called this whole situation, called him, Elain couldn't help but develop real feelings. The situation had truly gotten messy, especially since she could tell 'Mr. Doesn't-Exist' was all about business, and making sure this relationship remained so. She reminded herself before and after every fake date. She never expected it to sting, and it did. It stung, like nothing She had ever felt before.

Elain was about to speak up in response to Bitki, when her phone had gone off. One glimpse at her screen, seeing her boss's name, had her heart sinking, knowing exactly how this conversation would go.

"I need to take this sorry." Elain said to Bitki, before looking down to answer her phone. "Hello, Mr. -"

"I thought I told you, I needed the floral arrangements first thing." Her boss spoke. So he was in one of those moods. This should be an exceedingly fun phone call for her then.

But, Elain didn't want to be pushed around, so she simply tried saying, as professionally, and gently as she could, "Well, since it's my first day off in two and a half weeks, I thought first thing meant fi -"

"First thing means 'First Thing the Following Morning.' Also, you don't get days off unless I tell you you get a day off. Get in here, you're late. That is two strikes already today alone Elain." And with that Elain heard the other side of the line go dead as her boss had hung up.

"I don't know why you continue to work for the asshole and put up with his bullshit." Bitki had asked, looking towards Elain with knowing eyes, before sipping her coffee still lounging in her chair.

"I continue to deal with him, because he was the most famous florist in the country, remember. When people would fly hundreds of miles for a single bouquet, and thank him for his attitude. He's someone I could really benefit learning from." Elain explained to her friend, exasperated after having this conversation many times.

"Yes. But he was also dropped by everyone for how he treated his ex-girlfriend when the news broke. No one respects him anymore except others like him." Bitki threw back, again with a knowing expression.

So, Bitki may be the only person to know that Elain used her family name to blackmail her boss into hiring her. But to become the new best florist, Elain had to learn from the best florist out there. Praised, or, as he now was, severely shunned. She felt awful about it, especially considering her sister didn't exactly know who she worked for. But one day she would make sure no one knew his name ever again.

Just as Elain was on her way to work, her phone made the pinging of a new message, so she went to check it after getting on the bus.

Don't bother coming in. A has better designs you could come up with anyway, and has the respect for the job to show up to work every day, on time.

- 9.47 AM

In fact, don't bother coming in anymore at all. Nothing you have to say can ruin me more than your ungrateful sister did.

- 9.48 AM

*** *** ***

As Elain was just getting back into her apartment, closing the door behind her, Renarde came padding over, rubbing up against her shins in greeting, with the usual purrs. Not having anything else to do, but going to put the few groceries away, Elain then picked up the attention-seeking cat who hadn't left her side since she walked in.

"Well Renarde, it seems we're going to have to look for a new job. The problem is, there weren't any florists hiring a year ago when I got that job. I'm sure there aren't any now. What are we going to do?" Elain asked her, otherwise clueless, cat.

"I don't want to go back to Feyre's, I'm not even whispered to start my own floral business. I just, don't know what to do. As soon as Feyre and Nesta find out, they're going to be all I just knew you weren't cut out to live on your own." Elain was starting to spiral and was not talking to her pet, but more so to herself.

"If they find out about this, and that I don't have plans for what to do now, they will for sure expect me to move back with Feyre. It's not like I can just expect them to believe that I will be moving in with-"

"Me?" Elain heard before the apartment door closed again.

Elain quickly turned around and was confronted by the man she had been developing real feelings for, in a fake relationship the past year. The man she met out of pure coincidence in a similar situation as her the year prior. Lucien Vanserra.

"You do realize this is a fake relationship, right?" Lucien had asked her, welcoming himself in, not that she minded. They were each used to it. Not knowing if there were others in the apartment who believed them together.

“Yes, I do,” Elain responded, looking over towards the man with his long red hair, falling loos today, rather than slicked back. She did know, all too well, and to hear it again, especially coming from Lucien cut rather deeply at her heart. Her true feelings were a closely guarded secret, that even Bitki was unaware of them. “It’s just been a hell of a day.”

Elain couldn’t help the soaring of her heart when hearing Luciens mock reply. “Elain May Archeron. I thought you a Lady. A proper Lady. Yet you speak such foul language.” Lucien had even moved a hand over his heart as though to accentuate his feigned shock.

“There are more layers to me than you may ever understand.” Elain replied, with a hint of a mischievous tone lacing through her voice.

“Alright, care to tell me about your day then? Even though the day is only half over.” Lucien asked sitting on the small couch on the other end from her and Renarde. Her cat, ever the traitor since Lucien started coming over, jumped out of her arms and hopped right onto his lap, curling up for a nap. The slight jealousy that Renarde could curl up with Lucien so freely, alongside the longing that Elain could do the same, had honestly shocked her when she had first realized it.

Pushing the feelings aside, Elain took a deep breath before deciding to explain the easier part first. “So, I was fired today,” Elain explained. “Because I didn’t show up on my day off. Bus Driver refused to accept my monthly bus pass, on two different occasions, even though I just got it last week. Oh, and I ran into my sisters this morning while getting Renarde food. They’re expecting a proposal at the party.” Elain explained. She knew she had to explain that last point, but also knew she did not want to explain it like that. It was too delicate a conversation.

“Proposals are very real, and very public. On top of that, marriages are even more real, and incredibly legal. Some places require a minimum amount of time married before you are even allowed to file for divorce.” Lucien said. Just like that, within a simple second, the conversation between them had grown tense. His voice was cold, growing an edge. “And to reiterate what I said before, this,” Lucien said, moving his pointer finger between the two of them, “Isn’t real. We are not dating. This is fake.”

And he was angry now as if she were using her sisters to try and push this past a fake relationship into something more. And what he had said, his words, speared through her heart, stating that even when they wouldn’t need each other anymore for this fake relationship, there would not be any chance to grow into something real.

“I know that Lucien. But they don’t. You’re family doesn’t. That is why we started this whole thing to start with. To get our families off our backs. I’m not a stupid little girl who doesn’t remember what we’re doing. You’re the one, you, even when no one is around and we’re alone, you keep up the act! You’re the one who seems to pretend this is real. The way you act, it's not the way someone acts when it’s just friends Lucien!” Elain knew she was projecting. She had no right to throw her feelings onto him, as though he were the one who was feeling them and not her. But the way his eye flashed at her words, and not in anger. It even seemed like his glass eye flashed as well.

Both standing by now, Lucien took a step back, and then another, and then another. “This whole thing between us, this whole fake thing between us? I think it’s time we ended it. It’s already gone on far too long. As you said, your sisters are already expecting a proposal.” Lucien stated before turning around finally and making to walk out.

“Lucien, wait!” Elain called after him, suddenly feeling bad for projecting onto him. But it was too late, he was already gone. She would assume he was already walking down the stairs, just to avoid her having to wait for the elevator. So Elain stood there, in her apartment, alone, save for Renarde. But it wasn’t long before even Renarde left her for his cat tree. But not before a sound of frustration at her, for making her favourite man leave so soon.

*** *** ***

It was the night of the party her sisters had planned for her birthday. Elain had not seen, nor heard from Lucien since the afternoon of their argument. Bitki had come by to help her get ready, and try to cheer Elain up, given what her sisters had hoped would have happened tonight.

Having been completely caught up, Bitki looked over to Elain in the mirror as she had been applying makeup, before pausing. "We don't have to go you know. It's a party for your birthday yes. But that doesn't mean you owe everyone an appearance. We can stay here, attack the ice cream you have hidden in the back of your freezer, and watch cheezy romcoms." Bitki had commented, concern written on her face, without even attempting to hide it, knowing how much Elain hated that.

Elain offered a small thankful smile. "Thank you, Bee. I appreciate that. But I do have to go. I have been avoiding my sisters since that day. It's time to explain to them what's happened." Elain said in response before the smile fell off her face entirely. "Oh, God. How the hell am I even going to begin doing that? They're going to t-"

"Elain." Bitki cut in, "Elain. You don't need to worry about that. When you are ready, the words will come to you. And I'll be right there, to tell them off if you need me to." Bitki reassured.

When the two of them got to Feyres house, Elain was shocked at how many people were there. She shouldn't be shocked though, as her brother-in-law was a very high-up politician, and he would probably use this to invite political allies over. At least her sisters planned and decorated with her in mind.

Elain was about to walk forward until, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a familiar head of hair. Long, red, tied back low, and formal.

"Bitki, you go ahead. Don't say anything yet. I'll catch up shortly." Elain told her friend, without taking her eyes off the man on the other side of the courtyard.

Vaguely aware of Bitki following her gaze, but not her friends shock, Bitki did nod, before walking up the stairs and into the manor.

Slowly, yet cautiously after their last conversation, Elain started making her way towards Lucien, wanting to know why he was here. Because if they were done, he would have no reason to show up, his only reason would have been her.

"Elain." Lucien sounded surprised as if he wasn't expecting to see her at her own party.

"I'm almost afraid to ask." Elain whispered. "You said we were done. Whatever we had was done." Even though she was whispering, they were still in public, and no one else was supposed to know it was all fake.

"Elain, can we go somewhere to talk?" Lucien asked, sounding, was hesitant with nerves in his voice? She could see the nerves in his real eye too. His glass eye, which he had got as a stupid teenage boy, doing stupid teenage boy things at fifteen, showed no emotion. But again, Elain swore she saw nerves in it as well.

"Follow me," Elain said, before walking to the secret lounging area in the gardens here she had made sure existed. She wouldn't look back to make sure Lucien was indeed following her. She couldn't, because she didn't know what she would do if he wasn't.

Sitting on the bench in the quiet private, closed-off garden, Elain was pleased to see that the red-haired man sat next to her. "What is it you need to talk about, that you wanted to do so in private? Plan a public break up, at my birthday party that my sisters worked so hard on?"

Lucien started at that, but he didn't look surprised as if realizing that was a fair expectation after how he left the last time they saw each other. "No, that isn't the reason at all."

"So what is the reason?" Elain asked, looking at some of the flowers.

Feyres new garden employee did not know how to properly take care of the flowers, even with explicit, simple instructions from Elain. Sure they looked watered, but they looked hungry as well. They weren't getting the nutrients, only water.

After a few moments of silently judging whoever was taking care of her gardens, Lucien spoke up. "You remember our teacher in grade five?" Lucien asked. "Yes he was horrible, and no one liked him. I know I hated him. But there was one small thing I was, and forever will be thankful to him for." Lucien commented, with a soft smile, as if the memory brought him joy.

Elain looked at him as if he had grown another head. She couldn't fathom why anyone would have a joyful memory from that year, with that teacher. Let alone want to thank him for anything. "Were you in a different class with a different teacher I don't know about?"

Elain watched, pain crushing her heart as Lucien couldn't help but laugh softly at her comment. "Nope, same class. Same teacher. Mr. Hybern was definitely the worst. But I was still thankful for his Makes-No-Sense-Assigned-Seating. Because that's when I met you, really met you, and started to get to know you. Every pair's project was with your desk partner, so I was with you. Lunch was with you, everything in that class was done with you." Lucien explained, not looking at her, not looking at the flowers, or anywhere around them. He was lost in the past. Flying through memories. Elain though continued to sit there, not wanting to say anything, seeing where this went.

"Grade four, I had the biggest crush on you. But because you and your sisters lived out of the city, and commuted in, I never had the chance to get to know you. Mr. Hybern made us desk partners, and I had the chance to get to know you, and my crush only deepened.

"When High School came, we were closer friends. You were my best friend, and I was still in love with you. But you had started dating Greysen, so I kept quiet. I was grateful to be your friend. It was breaking my heart to see you so happy with Greysen, who ended up playing you and breaking your heart.

"We weren't hanging out as much then. I'd made other friends, you were so wrapped up with Greysen, and you had also met Bitki." Lucien paused in speaking.

Elain knew something difficult was coming up, so she gently bumped her shoulder against his arm, and looked up at him. "Take your time."

"No, I need to continue, before I cower out." Lucien said. Shaking his head. He took a deep breath before continuing. "Then I met Tamlin. He was great, an amazing friend, at first. But he has this way, I mean, you know. Feyre has probably told you more than enough. So I slowly started dropping all my other friends, believing Tamlin was the only friend I needed. He made me believe that. Isolated me from my other friends. From you. Just around the time, Greysen broke up with you. This is around college now.

"It was the two of us. Tamlin and I. Tamlin loved the control he had. He would ridicule me if I spoke my opinion differing from his, or spoke out of turn when others were around. I'm shocked he wasn't as upset with me for the normal things when he started dating Feyre." Lucien kept his eyes closed as he talked about this whole part.

Another deep breath before he continued. "After Tamlin dropped me when Feyre publicly broke up with him, It broke something in me. I lost trust in everyone. I couldn't make new friends, I had lost all my old friends. Because I was still so deeply in love with you, I thought of you every day, but was too afraid to reach out to you then." Slowly, Lucien opened his eyes to look at Elain.

"It wasn't until a year after that, that I bumped into you, and you were in a situation of needing someone to pretend to be your boyfriend. I didn't need a fake girlfriend. But helping you? That was a perfect way back in with you." Lucien paused for half a second before continuing. "And you were even more beautiful than you were in college. So, still so deeply in love with you, fake dating you, well that was better than nothing."

"Lucien, I-" Elain started before Lucien barreled on.

"I'm incredibly sorry for misleading you. I'm sorry for the way I left things last month. But I thought you had known how I felt all these years, and you were just ridiculing me. I thought you were mocking me. I would love to still be friends again. So I bought you a promise ring, to promise that I will never try to toss you to the side again." Lucien stated, and opened his hand, showing her a delicate ring, with flowers, her favourite flowers, delicately decorating around the ring.

Elain gently picked the ring up, turning it around to get a better look at every detail. The ring felt as delicate as it looked. "Oh Lucien. You really didn't have to go through this trouble." Elain responded, looking up, seeing pain lace through his features.

"What I mean is..." What did Elain mean? How could she put her thoughts into words? How could she express to him that yes, growing up, she did view the two of them as friends, and no, she never knew how he felt. But over this past year, she had found that she had fallen in love with him as well.

"What I mean is," oh screw it. Elain thought, as she reached behind his head to pull it down in their sitting positions. She pulled his head down until their lips met, in What could only be described as a blunt, yet soft kiss for the ages, that melted the nervous mess that had been forming in her stomach, in her heart, in her mind over the past year.

The kiss remained soft, silent, yet it had said everything she needed to tell Lucien, and more so. It hadn't taken more than a second or two for Lucien to respond to her kiss, as Elain could feel him smiling against her lips.

While the moment may seem like any other normal kiss, Elain had never experienced this before. She was warming up, she didn't feel like she needed to breathe, though she knew she would need to soon. It felt like she was invincible. Just weeks ago, just days ago, Elain thought this would never happen, and here she sat kissing the man she had found herself falling in love with all through a fake relationship. She couldn't be happier if she tried.

The two of them never did make it to Elains birthday party, choosing to stay in the private gardens instead all night, just talking, or kissing.

*** *** ***

*** Five Years Later ***

*** *** ***

After that fateful party, Elain had gotten an earful from no less than three people. Bitki, for leaving her alone to deal with her tyrant sisters, and said tyrant sisters. But Elain really didn't seem to care much that night for getting the earfuls. She couldn't stop herself from telling Bitki what had happened, and while her friend was supportive, she also was cautious and extra protective of Elain around Lucien now.

But this was Elain's 29th Birthday, and there was no big party, Elain stopped any plans from brewing before they started. She planned it. A small get-together. That was it. Bitki, her sisters, all partners, herself, and Lucien.

She had planned everything, so she would not be surprised, as she had grown rather disapproving of surprises. But even with her meticulous planning, there was still time to fit a surprise in there, as she turned around to get the teacups ready before everyone had shown up, to find Lucien behind her, half kneeling.

"Elain May Archeron." Lucien started, looking up at her.

"Lucien, what are you doing?" Elain asked, a flurry of emotions rushing through her at once. "There aren't supposed to be surprises today."

But Lucien only smiled, ignoring her question and statement. "Elain May Archeron, you truly are the love of my life and have been since we were in elementary school. These past few years have been, a lot, to say the least, and since moving in together, there are few things left I can think to experience for the first time with you. With you, because you are the only one I want to experience them with." Lucien spoke, sounding the most honest, loving and nervous he ever had, including the night he had confessed his love.

Elain had not noticed, just too stunned, but when Lucien was opening the box, to reveal the ring, and continued to speak, she finally realized what was going on.

"So, Elain, my fairest lady. Would you do me the honours of experiencing everything life has to offer, with you by my side, and marry me?"

When had Elain started crying? Those were tears on her face right? They had to be, because she just felt one drop, landing on her collarbone.

"Oh Lucien, you know I don't like surprises! And there wasn't supposed to be any today. Today was scheduled to the minute. Now everything is off schedule, and it's your fault. But I don't care. Yes! Yes I will marry you!" Elain responded in earnest, her annoyance at the surprise, the schedule getting thrown off, and all the love she had in her heart.

Elain sat on Luciens leg just long enough to kiss him, a truly happy kiss. It would have lasted longer, if the front door hadn't opened as Bitki and her boyfriend walked in, calling out her hellos.

That fight about the two of them only being in a fake relationship, and how it would never move past had been long since forgiven and forgotten, but that fight had played a very crucial part in their relationship where it stood today.

*** E N D ***

Post Fic Authors Note.

So this may not have been exactly what the prompt asked for, sorry Anon asker, if you're even still here. BUT I did include the fake relationship bit, and an argument a short bit.

Anyways, I hope everyone likes this fic. It's the first bit of writing I've done in just about a year. Please don't hate on it too hard.

Glad to be back.

-Shae.

#lucien vanserra #elucien #elain archeron #acotar #acosf #lucien x elain #elain/lucien #elucien fic #elain x lucien #elucien fanfiction #modern elucien #modern elucien fic #modern elucien fanfiction

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clemencetaught · 9 months ago

Note

I wasn't sure if y'wanted them sent in today or tomorrow, BUT TO NOT MESS UP-- (you mentioned answering ic in the tags so yeeting these directly at Patrick >:3 sorry if they're too many omg)

Patrick (any verse)

What does it feel like when others depend on you, in one way or another?

Are you more prone to assuming someone needs you (in a service kind of way, for aid, for support-) or more likely to think they don't?

If psychics were 120% reliable and you could connect to those long gone… would you?

In which contexts are you more 'do as I say not as I do' and in which will you listen to your own advice?

Do you ever catch yourself growing… a little bitter, maybe, at people describing their comparatively 'mundane' problems? Is it envy?

Do you believe children should be shaped for the likeliest future or the future should be shaped for the children to come?

When is self-sacrifice acceptable?

When is hurting those you love acceptable?

in which the 54th victor of the hunger games gives an impromptu interview ( nosy questions for the birthday enby w/ @mythvoiced )

The tea cup is set on the saucer. Discreetly, Patrick slides his other hand into his pocket, where the synthetic patch on his palm wraps around his pocket knife– a habit of sorts, since he won his games. His pocket watch sits on the table, next to the saucier and on his lap, Sun has wrapped herself into a ball, her paws disappearing into the mass of orange fur. On the balcony outside his apartment in the Capitol, this is the only place Patrick knows he will be granted a modicum of privacy in the viper’s nest.

The shadow of the balcony covers the upper half of his body. Sun keeps dozing on his lap, in the sun.

Most times, when the questions are directed at him, they’re expecting an affirmative. Doesn’t matter if it’s coming from a District person or a Capitolite– they go to him for answers, first and foremost. And in the case of the latter, these questions are not questions so much as veiled demands.

Ones that he must always accommodate, regardless of the nature of the demand.

But these questions, this voice, is…well they seem genuinely curious. And the questions they’ve lobbed his way, they don’t seem to be expecting one correct answer.

Sun shifts on his lap. His leg vibrates from her purring. Patrick sighs, leaning back on his chair. “That…quite a lot of thoughts you have going on there, hm?” The knife stays in his pocket as he gently scratches the top of Sun’s head. “I’ll answer your second question first: people will always look out for themselves first. If they don’t think you’re useful, that you can contribute something good to their lives, then you’re dead to them, if they don’t kill you first. Make yourself indispensable to them and they won’t hurt you.” At least that’s what he tells himself– it’s easier to simply assume anyone who approaches him that they want something he can give them. “The younger victors will need someone to guide them anyway.”

And even the ones who vehemently deny needing someone, anyone. Patience is always key in those instances– from Taiyang whom it took almost six years and his tribute’s sanity to finally approach Patrick to María, who still slaps away any hands offered, friend or foe. Ironically, he had to approach her first.

“…I suppose I don’t think too much about that. If someone was asking for your help, you would be more caught up in what they’re asking, more than how you were feeling no?” A Trojan horse, he’s lobbed in their direction although he’s quick to revise: “...It scares me sometimes.” He confides, fingers pausing in their administrations on Sun’s head. Actually it scares him, a lot. “They’re…they’re relying on me to guide them to the best outcome and I want the same thing for them. I promise you, I really, truly do.” Whether it’s Hyuk, Devora, a tribute he’s been assigned to mentor, or any of the victors. And sometimes even the furball in his lap and yet– “But I…I can’t always guarantee that. But they still trust me, especially the younger ones.” The tributes from District Three– his tributes, the ones who take his hand, look up at him with wide eyes, clinging to every word, every gesture he makes as it will guarantee their survival. “Sometimes I think it would be better if they exercised more caution with me.”

A smile, bittersweet, if not actually just bitter, graces his lips. He shakes his head though, chuckling at the next question. “...Forgive me, that’s quite a question you have there. ‘Psychics’... I don’t believe that’s information that just anyone, district or Capitol, can get ahold of– although I have heard of some old religions still practiced in the districts so I suppose the knowledge and belief in such mediums is possible to get ahold of.” He stares down at his tea, the steam still rising. Even if it is a hypothetical question on a medium known to be more shoddy than reputable, he can’t help but pause. If they could contact those ‘long gone’; would that mean, if he asked them to, would he be able to speak to her one last time–

He shakes his head, eye catching his pocket watch, metal beaten and faded, the clock face wearing a crack down the right side. Still, it shimmers in the sunlight. “Even if I could, I…I highly doubt she would want to talk to me of all people.” If they hadn’t met, if they hadn’t fallen in love, she probably would still be alive. Tellessa’s family too.

After all, he was the first person outside of Tellessa who knew about her forbidden books. “Wherever they are, it’s probably better than here.” Or at least he hopes it is for her. A place where life doesn’t have to be perfect, but it is…easier. A place for souls to rest at long last. If such a place even exists in the first place. He picks up his saucer once more, still careful not to jostle Sun on his legs. She’s taken to loafing now– he knows her eyes are closed even if her head dips every few seconds. But make no mistake, that does not mean she is unaware. Trusting of the one asking the questions. If it was just him, she would be stretched out, a white underbelly waiting for his hand to scratch kindly at the ceiling.

Perhaps the saying is true after all: like owner, like pet. Although Patrick would argue she’s more like Hyuk if anything.

“It depends on the circumstances,” he says as neutrally as possible. A vague answer for a hypothetical question, because that is truly it. “I suppose if one’s life was on the line, it would be better if they followed my lead, no?”

Not that that’s stopped, those with rebellious tendencies from committing treason anyways. ( And unfortunately, he can name more than one. ) It is ironic in that manner– for someone who knows the system, knows how to work within the rules all, has spent years perfecting his craft in survival arts, it would make more sense to invest on those with similar goals. And yet here he is, worrying about the ones who are decided not interested in survival and therefore would spurn his advice at any given moments. “Not that…that following my advice has ever helped them make it through.”

(His tributes. All thirty nine of them. No two games are ever the same, the gamemakers would never allow that. If the circus known as the Hungers Games must be reborn over and over again if it wishes to continue.)

He takes a sip of his tea, washing down the momentary displeasure. Or at least he thinks it will be only a moment long. “I suppose what a Capitol citizen would consider a ‘mundane issue’, as you put it, would differ from those of someone from the districts. The former does seem more inclined towards complaining if only to build comradery amongst one another. I’m just glad that they have such means to…channel their frustrations.”

( It’s in times like those, where he wishes his temper could curdle, the way Devora’s does in the face of the Capitol Elite. How he wishes he could simply let her use the knife to silence those idle complaints. )

Patrick takes another sip of his tea. It burns in his throat. It’s bitter too– he must have let the leaves seep for too long. But the asperity doesn’t just settle on his tongue. “Are we talking about an ideal world or the one we live in now? Depending on who you ask this question to, you’re guaranteed to get quite…different answers.” A smile, as frigid as the shaved ice the Capitol serves as a delicacy during the games, crosses his lips. “Our great nation was built to provide safety and prosperity for the children. To serve them. Although whether the truth is actually the other way around will again, depend on who you ask. As a mentor to my tributes, I suppose…we can’t deny the reality in front of us, no?”

Sun yawns. He puts his tea down and idly, he scratches the underside of her chin and he feels her purring against his finger. “Are you sure you should be asking me that question? I would think there are more…suitable candidates for this question.” People like Hyuk, he means. People like María– the kinds who would gladly make sacrifices, give pieces of themselves for a cause. “Self-sacrifice won’t get you where you need to be– there’s a reason martyrs are only known after their death– they’re even given a chance to be known. Anyone who thinks otherwise is a fool. They’re only deluding themselves into believing they can make everything better. A…colleague of mine said it best: ‘a martyr works, a survivor works better’. If you want to truly help the ones around you, self-sacrifice will only get you so far.”

Or so Patrick claims. He can hear it though– the sound of Hyuk shouting at him to stop lying. The truth is, self-sacrifice, if it is for a tangible reason, is…well maybe it is not worthwhile, but it can be certainly respected, especially if this tangible reason is a human life. The Capitol will always wonder what spurred Patrick to hold his district partner’s hand even if it burned a hole through his skin, will always wonder why Taiyang insisted on protecting Link in the arena, will always wonder why, why, why would Devora so willingly serve as President Snow’s puppet even if it further severs her ties to the districts despite everything the games took from her.

They would never understand compassion in a dog-eat-dog world– self sacrifice.

“...However, I suppose, if there was truly a good reason to do so…well, I have yet to see it.”

( Like the promise of a better world. If there is even one that exists. )

His hand stops. Sun turns her head towards him, copper eyes watching him. “When do we not hurt the ones we love?” Perhaps the better question for him is: when is he not hurting the ones he loves? He saw it in her eyes and Hyuk’s too. And yet they forgave him, somehow, every time. If not for that, well…would there even be a reason to keep going? “That’s part of caring for someone, no? You are preparing for them to hurt you without retaliation.” He shakes his head, snorting. “I think the answer should be obvious, if it guarantees their well-being in the long run, I think that is a gamble to be considered. That being said–”

Sun jumps off his lap and stretches, paws facing this curious passerby. Patrick crosses his legs, hands resting on his lap. A veneer, similar to the one he dons in the Capitol flashes through, even if he is not currently in his usual suit. “You wouldn’t want to be close with someone like me. I’ve been known to have…a reputation of sorts. One of burning and you could…no, you would most definitely get hurt, one way or another and we wouldn’t want that happening, no? Just a thought for you to consider.”

He watches Sun make her way to the sliding glass door in the shade. Her tails whips side to side as she looks up at the handle. Then she looks at him and meows.

Patrick glances at his pocket watch. “It’s feeding time for Sun.” Well, sort of– it’s more like it’s half an hour before her feeding time, but he knows gets antsy the closer meal time gets around. But this person doesn’t have to know that. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be taking care of business now. If you need anything more, you know where to find me.”

Or better yet, he’ll know where to find them.

#long post cw #mythvoiced #the victor ( answered. )#the victor ( verse three. )#hahahahahahahahaha i asked for this and LENLEN DELIVERED :'DDDD #over 2k words....and it took three days for me to write and i wasn't allowed to stop......#lenlen i love you....and this also killed me jc he REALLY TOOK THE REINS :'DD #and said 'this is my show now ferre you have no say in this.'#and i was compelled to go along :'DDDD #and he didn't even directly answer some of these questions i'm so sorry lenlen...u won't get a straight answer out of him #especially not in this verse </3 #i think i managed to name drop most ppl's muses in this too?? :DD #BUT THANK YOU AGAIN FOR THESE MY DEAR FRIEND MY WISH WAS GRANTED #i had a lot of fun writing this even tho i died somewhere in the middle :'D #so uh enjoy the philosophy and the hypocrisy and the sads(tm) of all of this?? ( and his cat too <3 )#JFKLSDJFKLSDJ ONLY THIS ONE CAN FORCE ME TO WRITE 2K FOR HIM AND HIM ALONE :'DDDD

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scorpioriesling · 17 days ago

Text

TikTok Thirst Traps

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Featuring: Rhysand, Cassian, Azriel, Lucien, Eris, & Tamlin

Warning(s): none

Summary: Nothing much, just the ACOTAR males as TikTok stereotypes / thirst traps.

SR’s Note: Guys I’m soooo sorry I swear I’m working on Invisible String and THTH — I have so much personal life stuff going on too and it’s been hard finding time to write! Anyways, here’s a little sum sum in the meantime for you all. <3

Tags: @mellowmusings @rcarbo1 @lilah-asteria @kitsunetori @velarisdusk (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Rhysand

major businessman / entrepreneur vibes for rhys’ thirst traps

a man in a suit is just… *chef’s kiss*

he has money and he knows it and does not care to show it on social media

his page is definitely a dark colored theme, most of his attire is black, and he comes across super professional

however

he knows what the ladies like

occasionally his car will make an appearance, or what he would deem “risqué” (ahem, the middle inspiration photo)

doesn’t care too much about comments… he actually finds that the women who frequently spam his page are a bit annoying more than anything

regardless, he would never say anything rude to anyone

keeps his pages mostly professional to avoid conflict in the workplace; but lets be honest, everyone in his office is down bad for this man, he’s not getting in any kind of trouble

genuinely couldn’t find just one that was a perfect fit for rhys, but his page comes very close if it were a bit darker themed and more luxurious / CEO-ish? is that a word? more suit content? you get the gist

Cassian

i almost feel like it’s a given that his tik tok thirst traps would be the “gym bro” / hot guy workout videos

a lot of these are simply him working out, not necessarily trying to get girls attention or anything but simply provide content for his fitness account

to take this a step further— when the girlies start commenting on his posts with emojis and such, he gets a little flustered. he wasn’t expecting this… he just lifts, that’s all

but, he can’t complain

his page is chaotic; videos of him lifting, flexing, what he eats to stay in shape, and even some videos of self reflection

it’s the comments like, “let me come to the gym with you!” or “you could lift me instead” etc that he turns into videos of how to get into working out / body building… not realizing the girlies just like to look at him. lol

he would respond to just about every comment with something kind or positive, even if it was sexual / silly in nature he’d find a way to make light of it

best example i could find would be this man

Azriel

i think we already know modern!az is a biker boy. there. i rest my case. that’s all.

i’m kidding

he thrives off the attention from booktok ladies; he doesn’t respond much, but he secretly reads every comment / mention / dm and takes every suggestion seriously when considering new content to create

yes, he films a few with a scream mask on

again, i rest my case

of course he has a darker themed page, lots of slow bass music on his videos and many videos of him riding at night

he’s always in a tight tee to show off his body that he’s spend years honing — and yes, he knows the girls love his arms too

not too much humor online from this guy. no full face reveal either.

however, when he reveals his smile for the first time…

let’s say his followers just about loose their minds

there’s so many tik tok pages like this yall already know what im talking about… here’s an example in case you don’t

Lucien

at first, he didn’t follow trends or do any kind of thirst traps of any kind. he thought those were kind of dumb and mainly used the app to send funny videos to his friends

however

lucien is creative, and his outlet here is music

apparently being a sassy redhead wasn’t enough, so he started filming himself playing his guitar

shirtless… of course.

the jump in followers may have prompted him to continue filming such content… or maybe the types of comments he was getting to boost that ego of his HAHA

anyways, his vibe is more acoustic / beachy / peaceful and light, very beach boy vibes with him but he will dabble in the electric guitar all the same once he gets used to playing it

per mentioned previously, he used to not make many videos, but now that he does, he finds himself being very real on this app and a lot of times recording small snippets of his own songs and talking into the camera

he enjoys the comments that show he is clearly capable of snagging the attention of the ladies; however, he responds to a lot of the ones that pertain to his talent and are interested in more than just his pretty face <3

i like this example best, with a lighter / more beachy and acoustic aesthetic … this may be more accurate

Eris

i’m really hoping you guys understand what i’m going for with this one… eris cooks.

like, very handsome, very demure, very good looking, cooking alone, but also… he knows what he’s doing and likes to play with his food, so to speak.

walk with me here.

he knows that a man with expensive taste already gets the ladies going. but a man with expensive taste AND in the kitchen? sir-

he will show every skill he has. baking, cooking, mixology…

and of course, some implied skills as well

he reads his comments — especially the ones where the girlypops are horny on main. he doesn’t give af; he loves that shit. in fact, keep it coming

sensual music, low lighting, expensive clothes… he’s a man that gets it. he could get it. and he knows that.

i think his videos would be a combo of this page and this page if you can use your imagination

Tamlin

tamlin is a hot ass, gentlemanly, mothafuckin cowboy and i will die on that hill — don’t play with me

while some videos are very pg, very church-boy, very homegrown… there are also the shirtless, sweaty, pickup-truck ones

don’t lie. you know exactly what i’m talking about.

he is a built dude. he works all day in the sun, he’s very caring for his land and the animals that live on it, and when he realized the attention he got from filming himself doing simple things around the ranch…

boy oh boy.

it started with simple things — throwing hay bales, riding horseback, etc…

but then he read his comments. people wanted more. the pretty ladies on the tik tok wanted more.

so he yanked off his shirt and jumped on the trends.

did he particularly like it? no. he didn’t like filming himself walking around his oversized pickup in just his jeans and boots, the sun kissing his skin over the rim of his hat…

but what he did enjoy was the cuties in his DMs and all their sweet messages for him.

he was a countryman at heart, so naturally his page was filled with images of the great outdoors and him in it — though many of his comments went unanswered. he was a bit shy, as social media wasn’t something he liked to use regularly

nonetheless, he did enjoy reading positive feedback after a long hard day of work

his feed would look a lil like this or THIS

ﾟ:* ✧

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crepezinhos · 4 months ago

Note

hello hello, i really love how you write yandere scara!! we love a miserable, loser, simp, and lovesick scara in this household!! 😍 i hope you continue to make more yandere scara content in the near future because i am very much obsessed with how you write him! i especially really love how you write him as a crazy rich guy that would 101% spoiled his lover rotten to the core 😍 (idk, it just seems very hot to me). keep up the good work and please continue feeding the hungry pigeons 😋 (its me, i am the pigeon)

Me and My Husband

(REQUEST #5) POV: How does Scaramouche act as a husband for his so-loved and traumatized reader after the so-awaited marriage? (Or just YandereHusband!Scaramouche thoughts)

⚠️ WARNINGS:

— Mostly a SFW post, but there are explicit NSFW parts

— Reader is FEMALE and uses SHE/HER pronouns

— This is a Yandere work, so there is a lot of toxic and manipulative behavior.

— Contains mentions of depression, self-hatred and suicide.

— Reading of the original post and prequel is absolutely advised

You really thought that this whole idea of marrying someone by force was going to be terrible. You now thought of Scaramouche as this maniac who just wants to abuse you until death, but he actually proved to be the complete opposite of what you thought. You didn’t know this at first, but during the actual marriage, he took every single word from the priest to his heart as he stared at your fake smile. He was truly determined to follow all those duties of a husband in the traditional church even if you would not follow the rules of a traditional wife.

As soon as you arrived home after all that partying and drinking, you smile faded away and you went to rest in your bed. Scaramouche even tried sneaking closer to you when he went to bed too, but you stopped him right he away and made him sleep in the corner of the bed, turned away from you.

As expected, things started off really bad. You would flinch to his touches, look away from his eyes, not smile at anything at all... you were crushed and exhausted in any way. The fact that society criticized the way you acted in that marriage and that paparazzi would never leave you alone was genuinely making you think about ending your life.

“What’s so special in that girl, Kuni?! She’s a talentless designer and an indecent lady who’s most likely a filthy gold-digger! She doesn’t even try to hide it, Kuni.” You heard his mother, Raiden Ei, scream to Scaramouche during a discussion in her office that you weren’t supposed to hear.

Incredibly, Raiden Ei did not know about the deal behind your marriage.

“I’m sorry, I’m just very surprised that someone so demanding as Kuni fell in love with such a random person... I mean, Kujou Sara has liked him ever since they were kids… so I don’t know why he didn’t choose her…” Yae Miko, another powerful economist in Japan, commented to you in a party.

“It is a pity that Kunikuzushi didn’t mind your status when he chose to marry you.” Kujou Sara insulted looking up and down at you, clearly offended by your existence.

“So many women begging to have a chance with him and he decided to marry a robot 😭🙏” A comment on a TikTok post talking about Raiden Ei’s son’s marriage.

That specific comment on the internet made you cry for barely an hour. You really wish you could scream at everyone how you do not give a shit or that the marriage was forced upon you… or the energy to smile at cameras and make it look like that you and Scaramouche are doing fine, but you simply couldn’t, and you didn’t have anyone to vent to anymore. Your boyfriend got mad at the way you simply broke up with him and cut contact and your friends didn’t understand your change in mood too and decided to let you go. Your parents were the only ones, aside of Scaramouche, who understood you, but they couldn’t do much for you rather than answer your phone calls and visit you every once in a while to check up on you.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” Scaramouche suddenly opened the room’s door with a plastic bag in his hands and met your crying figure, getting extremely worried at it. “Hey… no need to cry…” He whispered as he kneeled down by your side and hugged you by your neck, reassuring you that you weren’t alone. “Here… I brought this for you if it might make you any happier...” He whispered as he pulled the same plastic bag to give it to you.

Flowers, sweets, souvenirs, jewelry, tickets to things you like and many other kinds of gifts were brought to you in a daily basis, and they incredibly made you smile sometimes, you loved sweets after all…

But yes, his willingness to spoil you was the first step to get your life back in track.

Your honeymoon was wonderful and beautiful. Two weeks in Paris in first-class private planes. You didn’t think much about why Scaramouche chose that place until your guide brought you to the mansion of one of your favorite designers, Chiori, during an expedition day. You were barely panicking as you said your first words to her, but that awkwardness soon ended. Scaramouche quietly watched you talk to her about fashion all day, extremely proud of himself for making you truthfully smile. According to Chiori in a private conversation with him that happened after you met her, you had good ideas in mind for fashion, but none of it was somehow innovating. Those words of confirmation made Scaramouche finally go to the next step, which was giving you all the power you needed to start your own business.

Keeping someone busy with any kind of work might make a depressed person’s life have a meaning, such as owning a project or taking care of a pet.

Because of the influence your upcoming business had with the Raiden bank and family, it was successful in its opening, but it obviously decreased due to the lack of innovation. It didn’t matter to you, after all, you never wanted anything huge, but you were relieved to have some power in your hands after having it all destroyed by Scaramouche previously.

Seeing that your self-esteem was slowly getting better, he finally begun going for the next and final step, which was the riskiest and hardest one… getting intimate. All that Scaramouche wanted in change of all those efforts he did for you were the bare minimum crumbs of your love. Yes, he hates himself that much. Don’t blame him, you were the first person to make him feel love after 20 years, so he doesn’t want to let go.

But, there was a problem, Scaramouche does not know how to get intimate. Now that touching and kissing you were more like a right rather than instinctual actions, he felt like he would pass out any time he touched you for more than 3 seconds.

The first time you kissed him was an absolute heart attackto him. You two were just peacefully sitting in the bed while he talked about the truth behind his relationship with Kujou Sara, when you suddenly leaned close to him and shut the space between your faces. He paralyzed, his heartbeat accelerating the more time you spent there, savoring his lips, but he still did his best to give in and not let go of that opportunity tou gave him. He incredibly started moaning due to the pressure you were putting on him and the arousal he got from the forming heat of your mouths. He genuinely needed to hold his heart with a hand to not pass out with the feeling of you pushing him down on the bed.

He doesn’t understand why he’s so nervous about something he dreamt for over three years now, nor why were you doing it. In your perspective, it just happens that you haven’t had sex in a year and simply wanted to feel that pleasure once again.

Just like he promised, he submitted to every single thing that you did to him. He was so nervous and taken aback seeing you grind your hips on top of his crotch as you unbuttoned his shirt that it even made toy feel guilty for him. His dick got hard so quickly that he really thought it was an orgasm. He didn’t even dare say it ask anything, he was too happy about you doing such an intimate thing with him to care about the answers of his questions.

He literally had to cover his eyes with a hand to not have a heart attack with the view of you taking off your clothes on top of and with that sly smirk in your face. Since you could tell he was nervous, you decided to start the actual thing as soon as you got rid of all the clothes even if you’d have a lot of fun teasing his ego. Scaramouche would never know it, but he was the last thing that went through your mind at the moment. All you thought of was your boyfriend’s sex and how he knew exactly where and how to touch you. Since you really wanted to feel that feeling of being touched by your ex’s hands again without being caught, you leaned down and grabbed one of the pillows above Scaramouche’s head and gave it to him to cover his face. He obviously submitted to that choice too and hugged that pillow against himself like he needed it to live. Now you really were enjoying the moment as you begun touching yourself all around your body like it was his hands doing so, betraying Scaramouche right in front of him.

In the end, it was a relieving experience for you but it was heaven for Scaramouche. Even if he watched lots of porn, he believed that sex didn’t feel that good since none of the women in it would ride dicks as greatly as you did. He thought that maybe he felt that much pleasure because it was you doing it, a person he loves, but he preferred to stick with the idea that he had just lost his virginity, so it made sense for him to act like that. After that night, his love for you grew massively. Expect to receive gifts every day of your life now, because he couldn’t wait to be intimate like that with you again. Since he had no idea how to do it nor how to have the courage of asking for it, he hoped that those little souvenirs would somehow drive you to ask for it. He would let control when and how you two did it forever if it was the only way you accepted to have sex with him.

God… he was so in-love with that intimacy… why did you turn that switch on on him?

Luckily, the more you two had sex, the more you’d feel comfortable with Scaramouche himself, so, when finally gave him the chance to top you, he was nervous about how clueless he actually was. So many parts to touch, kiss, lick and suck… so much praising that had to be done… so many kinks and details he had to keep in mind... seems like all those hours of watching porn thinking about you were useless. He also thought women felt pleasure with anything related to dicks due to how submissive they act towards it, and his awkwardness of seeing you naked below him, just waiting for him to begin, only contributed him to thrust you very poorly. Men in porn don’t make noise, so he didn’t do it too. Men in porn don’t touch and wouldn’t even get close to the woman they were fucking, so he didn’t do it too.

It was… terrible.

It was so terrible that it made you stop making effort of liking it and stop him.

“What’s going on? You’re quiet as a bush… do you not like it?” You asked neutrally, making him stop moving.

It didn’t matter anyway since he was going so slow and weak, thinking that would be enough to make you act like those prostitutes, that it barely made difference to you.

“N-No..! Of course I like it! D-Do you… not like it..?”

“No…” You answered immediately, making him panic in embarrassment.

“Oh… hum… h-how can I make you like it..?” He asked, afraid that you’d give up on letting him top.

Unfortunately, you two had to stop the whole moment so you could teach him how to touch a woman, not figuring out why was he acting so weird, but, luckily, he learned it quite fast. He did not want to disappoint you in such an important thing for your relationship. He was doing good with physical intimacy, but when you asked why was he so quiet again and told him to get those moans out of his mouth, he started to really fuck you. He was so surprised at how good sex made him feel that he would not blink at all. He wanted to hear every single high-pitched moan of yours whenever he thrusted you precisely. He wanted to watch and appreciate how every single part of your body reacted so tenderly to him. He wanted to feel the warmth of your soft skin against his, the physical contact you two shared.

The fact that you even willed to have sex with him was enough to make him cum.

He was so whiny and shaky after his hard orgasm that you immediately laid your both corpses in the bed to rest. You were so satisfied and even surprised at how well he did, it even made you accept the fact that it wasn’t your boyfriend who did it, and, yes, Scaramouche, a man who you promised to hate for the rest of your life.

Scaramouche’s needy soul had no words to share but he made sure you wouldn’t move an inch out of his grip that night.

But, do you really think he is always cute like this? Of course not! After all, you’d only have sex with him when you wanted to, which means it was once in months. His jealously is the biggest factor for your unhappiness in that marriage. He literally gets violently angry any time a man even dares to look at you, and would never blame you for it. You could spread your legs to a man and have sex with him while degrading Scaramouche’s morals right in front of him that he’d say that you’ve been seduced and manipulated to say such things. It would always create very awkward situations with architects, mailmen, waiters and engineers, who sometimes would even decide to keep a better distance from you two and you hated it. You couldn’t really live your life happily like that as an extroverted person. He still was rude and cold to everyone, just like when you met him, even with maids that were extremely loyal to your privacy in the home. Some of his workers and ex-workers even reported to the internet how Scaramouche wasn’t a pleasant boss and colleague at all. You tried telling him multiple times that he should treat his employees better, to avoid things like that and ruin his reputation, and try making new friends, but he claimed he didn’t need anyone else now that he had you by his side.

The only two people he treated well instead of you were your parents. He knows just how important they are for your mental health, so keeping a good relationship with them would help keeping the marriage good in a way. What if your parents started believing that marrying Scaramouche wasn’t that nightmare you told them to be because of his great behavior towards them? It would influence you to keep going, wouldn’t it?

Well… even if he denied the idea of opening himself to more people, you could see that he was unintentionally improving his behavior towards new people every day, but very slowly.

Sometimes he would also get really mad when something went slightly wrong with his work, career or your relationship. You’d usually get really scared when he started having an anger attack in your bedroom and would find anything distracting to do while you listened to him scream and discount his anger in the walls or objects of the room. He would always leave the room and run to you crying and whining like a child, begging for your forgiveness as he kneeled in front you and hugged your legs, but that wasn’t enough to make you feel more comfortable around his presence for the next hours or even days.

“Y/N, please, open the door! I didn’t mean to scare you, I just want you to love me too..! Why can’t you see it..?! What am I doing wrong?! Please… talk to me..! Let me see you..! Let’s sit down in the bed and talk about it, ok..? Please..? Y/NNN!” He screamed, cried, whined and begged at the bathroom’s door as he pulled and pushed the doorknob multiple times and banged at it, desperate to reach and feel you, who had locked yourself inside there half an hour ago after Scaramouche started acting violent towards you during a fight about your lack of response to his demonstrations of love.

When you two were being flashed by cameras and recorded by microphones, he’d also get extremely defensive of you and would not let you answer weird questions at all, claiming that those stupid journalists have no reason to be making such questions towards you and that they were all just greedy for any kind of secret.

Scaramouche did not fear that you’d tell them about the truth of your marriage, he just craved for your attention and company 24/7.

People on the internet eventually reached the conclusion that Scaramouche was the kind of man to act all tough and hard towards anyone instead of his wife while you were a social butterfly. There were even clips on YouTube of Scaramouche’s mood switch to prove that theory across gossip pages.

And, well, they weren’t wrong at all.

Marrying someone as insane as Scaramouche definitely does not feel like a burden, but it doesn’t feel pleasant at the same time. Your heart would always find itself craving for that feeling of love you once felt for you boyfriend and denying Scaramouche, no matter how well he treated and spoiled you. You’ve already gone through those dark memories, but sometimes they still haunt your nights and dream, especially the triggering memories of that day behind the tree and your marriage. You’ve always wanted your marriage to be a dreamy and unforgettable event with all your family and friends, including Scaramouche, everything in white and a smile that simply couldn’t be wiped out from your face. All you had with Scaramouche was a beautiful performance of architecture and money.

That comparison made you sob whenever you thought about it.

Scaramouche’s behavior was slowly getting repetitive and even boring, no matter how much he tried to innovate. Your life would start to step back again if you didn’t do anything about it.

— Will you try making your relationship with Scaramouche better? Or even… real?

— Will you think about your ex-boyfriend (any character you want) so much that you can’t handle the pain in your heart anymore, run back to him, find out that he still loves you too and run away from the country? Making sure Scaramouche never finds you again? Or does? He would get really pissed but really sad too…

— Will you get your revenge on this monster that broke the happy girl you once were, forced you into a loveless marriage and even made you have suicidal thoughts because of the low self-esteem he brought you to have unintentionally? By either making go to jail for his crimes or using blackmail to force into an open relationship where he’d know with you were going out with?

— Will you simply give up on making things better and kill yourself? It would lead Scaramouche to suffer eternally, no matter if you died or not.

It’s all up to you at 3:19 AM, staring at a wall of your room while you were supposed to be sleeping, feeling Scaramouche’s nose on your shoulder and hands around your waist as he peacefully slept.

Don’t forget to like and comment if you liked it <3

Taglist: @alatusorrow @the-stinky-winky @kindofshyent @kindofscenic @iruma-chan @sunflower0sky

#genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin x reader #smut #wanderer genshin #wanderer #genshin scara #scara x reader #genshin wanderer #wanderer x reader #scaramouche #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere #yandere genshin imagines

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sw4tch · 1 year ago

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*defeated sigh* how do i tell this man to stop trying to flirt with me or i will kick his ass

also it's THAT GUY AGAIN AND IM GETTING TIRED. bcus WE ARE SUPPOSED TO BE FRIENDS and i would PREFER IF HE ACTED AS ONE BUT NOOOOO he has to act WEIRD in a very obvious "i have a crush on you" way AND I HATE IT.

Because here's the thing. I am perhaps being very shallow. Because i absolutely see myself being open to a relationship happening between us if he was my type of cute man. BUT HE'S NOT. So instead of getting butterflies in my stomach and feeling flattered I JUST GET SO FUCKING PISSED OFF BECAUSE I ABSOLUTELY CANNOTTTTTTT TELL HIM TO FUCK OFFFFFFFF.

He's not harassing me or doing anything inappropriate but i just HATE. HATE. HATE. THAT HE HAS A CRUSH ON ME (or at least HE ACTS LIKE IT)

The other day he sent me a spiderverse meme video (it was about lyla bothering miguel) and i went "oh to be Miguel's ai girlfriend" and he just went "oh to be miguel" like FUCK OFF? I AM NOT GOING TO BE YOUR GIRLFRIEND MAN.

I am NOT EVEN A GIRL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

and "well he could have meant nothing by it" which fair. Which is why i didnt fucking reply to that at all. But then the next day he sent me a "wish you a nice weekend :)" message and i saw RED. Bcus.

FUCK. how do i explain this.

Men never NEVER act like this unless they Want You. Getting Male Attention only happens when they perceive you as a Woman and as someone they want a romantic relationship with.

And also he had never sent me a nice weekend message before so it just felt like "WHAT ARE YOUR FUCKING INTENTIONS MAN 🔫 I AM JUST YOUR FRIEND AND I WILL NEVER BE ANYTHING ELSE SO WHY WONT U LEAVE ME ALONEEEEE"

And I HATE IT.

Bcus he's an OKAY GUY. how many times do i have to describe him as "well there's nothing wrong with him he's just annoying" BCUS THAT'S JUST HIM.

And i hate it. I hate that he has a crush on me. I loathe it. He read MTMTE for me because i told him i was obsessing over tf and he went and read it and now he makes transformers references at me AND I HATE IT.

I just HATE IT!

I hate that i hate it because it makes me FEEL BAD!!!!!!!!

If i were a normal, mentally stable, completely cis, completely heterosexual person, perhaps less shallow too- i would probably like him a lot.

BUT I'M NOT. AND ALSO I HAVE HIGH STANDARDS. IMPOSSIBLE STANDARDS. AND I LIKE CUTE MEN WITH LONG HAIR THAT LOOK LIKE PRINCES. and he's not!!! He's not!!!

And i feel bad!!! Because i simply cannot like him AND I REFUSE TO GIVE HIM A CHANCE BCUS I SPENT SO MUCH OF MY LIFE BEING USED- i will not GIVE IN and GET USED just bcus i feel bad for SOME GUY who's JUST OKAY.

Fuck. I hate it. My crushes must feel like this too. They must loathe every second i show them my love and affection. I must be as disgusting to them. I am trapped in hell and that hell is "wanting to be loved so badly, so so so badly, but also hating that people interested in me aren't my idealized dream person"

Bcus.

It feels fake!!!! It feels so fake!!!!! He doesn’t like me for me!!!!!!!!!!!! HE WANTS TO JUST USE ME AS A PIECE OF MEAT!!!!!!!! HE KNOWS NOTHING OF ME, OR MY DREAMS, OR MY ISSUES, OR MY REAL SELF!!!!!! HE THINKS HE LIKES ME BECAUSE HE DOES NOT KNOW ME AT ALL!!!!!

AND NO ONE EVER WILL KNOW THE REAL ME BECAUSE I CAN NEVER BE LOVED AGAIN!!!!!!!

Anytime anyone says they care about me, I.

I nod and smile. I thank them. I thank them a lot.

And then internally i lament the fact that their words feel fake to me.

Oddly enough. I can believe them from one person, one college friend. But it's mostly because for some reason. She has always seemed very genuine and sweet? We talk every week we can and we tell each other updates of our lives, and sometimes she will tell me how things are going with her tumultuous family issues, and sometimes i will tell her how things are going with my complicated relationship with my mom. And sometimes I'll cry on the phone and she will comfort me. And i always cheer her on if things are bad on her end.

Still, i feel like she hasn't seen the worst parts of me. But when she tells me she cares for me and that I'm always welcome at her home. I trust her. I believe her. Her friendship is so dear to me. I think she deserves the world.

But everyone else. I find it so difficult. My excuses are always "well actually you must hate me" "You're saying it out of an obligation" "you can't really mean it because you don't know how bad i can be" "we're not really friends so this means nothing to me" "you only say it to appease me"

And it's. Sad.

Because i can't even hold it against them. It feels fake for me but i understand that they Do mean it. They mean it but only because they think they care about the version of me i project every day. They care about the best parts of myself.

The most egregious offender lately has been, of course, my mother. I think she's either trying to patch things up or manipulate me further.

I will never be sure so to be safe i assume she's trying to manipulate me into caring for her (as in, literally taking care of her in the future).

She keeps telling me how much she thinks about me and how much she cares about me and how I'm the light of her life and that she only wants the best for me and how she loves me so so so much.

And. Would you believe that, dear reader? After years of emotional neglect and abuse? Would you in good conscience believe her words? Would you allow your mind to forget how much she hurt you and the ways she hurt you and would you allow her into your heart?

Would you put yourself in the line of fire? Would you put the blindfold on? Would you face the wall and smile hoping the headshot won't come?

Of course not, dear reader. Because you're smart. You're smarter than all of them. And because you're smart is that you're still alive to tell the tale.

Anyway.

About crushes and how I can never feel like I'm loved in the right and correct way.

Here's the thing.

Friendships are good. Friendships are the best. In Friendships i don't have to wonder what the other person's intentions are.

The intent is always "have a nice time together as buddies and laugh and laugh and laugh and never delve deeper into each other sadness"

At least, it's how i see it on my side. You see, if a friend suddenly opened their heart to me and told me their woes, then hell yeah I'd be there for them. I'd care for them. I'd comfort them. I'd be the most supportive person in the room.

I will forever be someone that wants to help others.

But the moment a friend asks ME to open up. I just. I feel attacked. I take out my metaphorical knife and point at them and go "WHAT ARE YOUR INTENTIONS- WHY DO YOU CARE"

i don't do that, the knife is metaphorical. But I do insist that I'm alright and that nothing is wrong and i am absolutely fine thank you VERY much! Please do not worry about me, all is good.

Because I am not kidding at all when I say you need to be a level 7 friend to unlock my Lore. I don't trust people. Trusting people gets you hurt. And I'm old enough to know that I can't take that kind of hurt anymore.

And i love my friends. I love all of them a lot. A lot!

But for some reason I can't trust them to reciprocate my friendship with my same pure and good intentions? Does that make sense?

From my point of view, people only love their friends in a very simple way. They want others to share the good times with. It's hard to find people to share the hard times with, so if they only want the good times, i don't blame them.

I don't expect my friends to be there for the hard times. I don't blame them. I expect them to only be there for the good times.

Who would want the hard times?

Who would want my hard times?

So yeah that's the heart (hah) of the issue.

I just don't think people really truly care about me. I don't expect them to. I hope they don't.

So when someone comes around and has the Audacity to develop feelings? For ME? The Extra Friendly version of me i put out into the world?

It feels offensive. Horrendous. I know what your intentions are AND THEY'RE NOT HARMLESS! YOU WANT MY BODY AS MEAT TO USE AND I HATE IT!!! FUCK OFF!!! I KNOW I'M DROP DEAD GORGEOUS BUT YOU DON'T GET TO THINK THAT!!!!!!!!

Maybe these are just excuses to justify how shallow I ended up being. A princely looking man would have me on my knees, I know this.

But those men will never look my way. They are shallow too, and i am repaid in my same coin.

Oh how dreadful is to date in the modern age (even though i know it's no better than the ages before).

Can't wait to leave this office and never say hello to this guy ever again. I would apologize but. Nah.

I just wish i could tell him "we're not meant to be and it's not your fault but also I wish this world was kinder to alright guys that don't have much to offer. Like you. Like me. We are one in the same and perhaps that's why we were never going to be anything at all."

#snaily blabber

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tellthemeerkatsitsfine · 2 years ago

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Thoughts on the second Long-Running Panel Show Friday of 2023:

The News Quiz: This was a good week to have Mark Steel on, though I could probably say that about any week from at least the last seven or eight months. By which I mean Mark Steel is very good at unleashing unmitigated anger and reveling in the mess of whatever he’s talking about. He had plenty of opportunities to do that this week.

Seriously though, people who actually live in Britain, are you guys all right? Because from over here it’s starting to look like a ground-level collapse of civilization, instead of just the state and governmental collapse of last year. I genuinely hope anyone I know on here in Britain (and the people I don’t know, as well) is okay. Hope this doesn’t sound too patronizing; if it helps at all, Canada’s current leader of the Opposition is at least as bad as the people running your country and he’ll probably be running my country within a year, and then it’ll be our turn to collapse.

Anyway, good episode again. Mark Steel and Lucy Porter were good, but I think Andy Zaltzman stole the show. I pretty much always think Andy Zaltzman steals the show, but this time even more than usual. He had a few rants that made me think of Yes Minister for how fast and dense they were. Despite his many other talents, I think that sort of thing is what Andy Zaltzman does best. The way he can just take a deep breath and then go everywhere within a few minutes, hitting one subject after another while becoming increasingly sarcastic but not changing his tone of voice. Though he did slightly crack himself up in the middle of one today, which almost never happens to Andy Zaltzman and was rather delightful:

“This is the story of MPM Connect, which has contributed over 300,000 pounds to Labour MPs, including Yvette Cooper, despite lacking anything you’d expect a business to have, including people. So, what could it be funding these MPs for? What does it seek to gain? Well a cynic might say that a company that does absolutely nothing seems a perfect fit for Starmer’s Labour Party. And that cynic’s cynical friend might add that this story is surely further evidence of Starmer’s Labour trying to muscle in on Tory territory. Trying to appeal to core Tory voters who like their elected representatives to receive questionable funding from opaque sources. It certainly highlights once again the unsavoury workings of the Westminster sausage factory. And if you love sausages, what you don’t want when you bite into your sausage is for a screen to pop up with a short film showing every stage of the sausage-making process in graphic detail. It’s best that we don’t know about these things [brief, uncharacteristic giggle before continuing], which is why the ingredients of the British sausage are still covered by the Official Secrets Act. Some might say that we live in a free market economy, and if you are legally entitled to use your or someone else’s money to buy, for example, a pencil, or an ice cream, or a house, or a deceitful side of a bus, or a newspaper, or the ownership and editorial control of a newspaper, or a not guilty verdict, then it also stands to reason that you should be able to buy covert influence with politicians. And perhaps it would all be more transparent if politicians were simply forced to wear the logos of the companies that have funded them, which works very well in Formula One. I mean, sure, there might be some suspiciously Russian-looking logos on some worryingly front-bench overalls, but at least we’d know where we stand.”

QI: I think Ed Byrne was my favourite part of this one. He looked a whole lot more relaxed than the last time I saw him, when he was tearing it up in Mock the Week’s dying days, loudly protesting every chance he got about its impending death. Here, he’s calmed down and happy to sit back and just jump in whenever he has a relevant quip. Told a few stories that were clearly crowbarred-in stand-up material, but were more than funny enough to be justified. He was quick and exactly what you want on this sort of show. I hope he’ll get some other TV thing that can bring back his wild Mock the Week persona, because that’s great fun. But this side of him is fun too.

I don’t much like Jack Dee, and he didn’t do anything to change that in this episode, so overall it wasn’t my favourite of the season. But Ed Byrne was good and Callie Beaton always has good energy on this show. Also, this is rarely the point of QI but some of the facts were pretty cool. And nothing that features Sandi Toksvig correcting people about things can be bad.

Would I Lie to You: This show continues to impress me with how good it can be regardless of who the guests are. It’s the only panel show where I don’t mind if I see a lineup full of non-comedians, because it’s mainly carried by the format and the regulars. In this episode, like in most episodes, the stories were good (or at least, they were stories about which people could say funny things), the game was fun, and Rob, David, and Lee were good. That’s what makes this show. This one had a good bit where everyone makes fun of David Mitchell for having parents.

Having said that, I was pleased to see Henning Wehn on this episode. He’s always good on WILTY, and this was no exception. Some Kevin Bridges-style drawing a story out for no reason. He made me briefly choke on a cracker from laughing just by saying the word “Nigel”. It’s early to say, but think that story is going to go down as a fan favourite from this season.

Obviously the main thing about WILTY is how well I can do at it, and this week wasn’t so good. Last week I had a strong 4-1 of guessing the answers, but this week I went 2-2, and only broke even on the last round, when I pretty much got a freebie point because obviously Lee’s story wasn’t true. Always fun when Lee Mack’s light goes on and I get to say “lie” immediately and automatically get a point. I’ll try to do better next week; this time I was thrown off by Henning’s double bluff. And in my defense, if you're too drunk to remember even the broadest outline of the fact that you took a plane ride, how the hell do you manage to get on a plane in that state?

No Catsdown this week, which is probably fine. Tonight is the first episode of Jon Richardson and Lucy Beaumont’s new panel show about celebrity couples, which mildly depresses me. I’m sure I’ve watched panel shows that are worse than that one will be (not that I intend to find out by watching it), Jon Richardson is just capable of so much more. Richard Herring and Rachel Riley as the first guests exemplifies what I think about that show’s existence – I don’t hate either of those people (I might have briefly hated Richard Herring when I first read that horrible thing he wrote in 2006, but it was one page in 2006 and he was probably sort of joking and just misjudging a tone and it’s not really worth hating him over that), I just don’t much like them. They’re both basically fine, just not my favourite thing and I’m sorry to see one of my very favourite comedians doing that with his life. But anyway, Jon Richardson’s made lots of good things and this will probably be basically fine (again, not that I intend to check).

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