#but it is--and this is important--nothing. its not anything.

[happyk44]

[Text ID: 1. I have felt so much grief at the end of so much love that all of my love has started to feel like the beginning of grief.

So, I can't stop talking about what will happen if my best friend dies. I am decimated by the loss of things that aren't even gone yet. I am so full of the people I love - I have let so much of myself be made of them - that I can tell, with clinical specificity, precisely how little of me there could be if they were gone. The more firmly and reliably entrenched they are in my life, the more the fear persists. I, too, am defined by absence. I am a child, and anything could be taken from me at any moment.

2. Tumblr post from @/sentientsky: massive fan of characters who have been abandoned time and time again and who are trying to trust but are simultaneously going through all five stages of preemptive grief. characters who are bracing for the blade to find its mark and twist and break them open. character who know how the story ends - how the story has always ended. once again, of course, in a totally normal and not at ALL projecting way

3. I love you - I do - but I am afraid of making that love too important. Because you're always going to leave me. We can't deny it. You're always going to leave.

4. Even in my fantasy, I keep the car running

In case I need to take off

The months blur together

I watch the ceiling buckle

I wonder when it's caving in

There's a black hole in the living room floor

I keep standing on the edge and looking in

5. you are all dangling limbs and half-burned memories, always waiting always swallowing the bitter pill before it's even offered to you.

you know nothing but the left side of the stage and the frantic replay of a mind trying to rationalize the end of all things.

you're doing it again, aren't you? -

preemptively grieving what you have yet to lost, as though that will save you - as though tracing the stencil shape of a wound will make it bleed less when the blade finds its mark. /end ID]

on preemptive grief. on bracing for impact. on looking towards the horizon line and flinching

Rayne Fisher-Quann, “home for the holidays: an essay (sort of) about grief (sort of)” // me // David Levithan // The Crane Wives, “Black Hole Fantasy” // me (again)

[kabuki-writes]

Ubi tu Gaius, ego Gaia

chapter: 6 chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

pairing: emperor geta/emperor caracalla x acacius' daughter!reader

summary: The wedding ceremony with Emperor Geta gives you a first glimpse of what you are going to face, once the title 'Empress' crowns you. Meanwhile Caracalla has to deal with the thoughts about his twin owning you now.

warning(s): heavy nsfw & sexual violence | angst | alcohol consumption | drug consumption | semi-edited | english is not my first language, faults may occur | please let me know if i missed anything

Note: I am wishing you all a 'Merry Christmas'! Sorry that this chapter took so long, i wanted to finish it faster, but i was ill for quite some time and had no head for writing. No worries though, i am feeling better now! A small reminder: Due to the holidays, the next chapter might take a bit of time.

word count: 3.6k

Gods expected rituals and nothing in Rome was more important, more holy and more strict to certain rules than a wedding - especially the wedding of an Emperor. A whole series of necessaries had to be prepared in advance to this special celebration before the bride and the groom were able to stand in front of the altar. From the preparation of the dowry to the sacrifices made to the gods. It all began with the most formal part: engagement ceremony, where the exchange of promises between the groom and the bride's father hold more significance than the words of the soon-to-be-wed woman. In Roman society, being born a female was still strongly bound to ownership. First the ownership of the father and then the ownership of the husband. And even though rich Roman women had more freedom than others, it was still a life in societal chains.

Now that you sat on the floor to your mother‘s feet, you instantly thought about the eyes of that lamb your family had brought to the temple of Juno as a sacrifice. The innocence in its eyes slaughtered by the dagger of the priest. One Life for another Life - yours. Did Juno have her blessing? How could you know right now.

„Mother…?“, you spoke out as you noticed the shaking hands and the tears in your mother‘s eyes.

She was pale as marble, trying her best to keep her face, but you were well aware of how much it destroyed her and your father to let you go - especially when the arms of your soon-to-be-husband were Emperor Geta. As a daughter, you tried your best to comfort your mother, as much as it hurt you too. Your hands took hers, gently squeezing them, while your eyes found hers. "I shouldn't cry, i know...", she whispered and placed her hand on your cheek through the thin fabric of the flame-coloured veil that covered your face. Your body was clothed in a beautiful white tunica dress, embroidered with golden depictions of different flowers. You were shackled by the amount of jewelry - engagement presents of Emperor Geta for his bride -, expensive golden necklaces and bracelets that should depict the status you will have standing by his side. Although you were no Empress yet, you wore a bridal crown on top of your carefully braided hair. One of woven fragrant herbs and flowers, Rosemary, verbena, marjoram, roses, violets, and lilies, to represent fertility.

"My beautiful daughter, even Venus would envy you now. But i had wished that... that you would not have to marry a man like-"

"Don't", you stopped her, knowing fully well, which name she was about to say and you shook her head. It was meaningless to express any form of sorrow or hatred, even if this wedding was a forced one - a trade for your own life and that of your parents. Terrible or not, it would bring honor to your family and in the end, it would make you Empress. A gift as well as a heavy burden, especially given the man that will be your husband - your Emperor. Geta.

A marriage ceremony always followed specific rules, that were meant to please the gods. A scacrifice in the temples of Juno and Jupiter was mandatory, but soon you'll face another significant part of your wedding. As Romans believed the only bride of value was a virgin who had to be stolen from her family, they simulated the bride being abducted from her family as part of the ceremony. You were able to hear the chants and chattering of the big entourage of guests arriving to you parent's home outside - accompanied by a large amount of Praetorian Guards and the Emperor himself. Usually the large wedding feast and celebration would take place at the bride's family home, but given the significance of an Emperor's wedding and the amount of guests, it was agreed that it would take place in the palace after the procession.

Even if you tried to face it with a stoic mask, your heart pumped against your chest - a mixture of excitement and fear. Your eyes closed for a moment, as you heard the footsteps and voices of the Praetorian soldiers and amongst them Geta's, who was the first to enter the room. You were still facing your mother, holding her hands tight, while tears ran down her face. "I am here to claim my bride", the Emperor called out with a triumphant smile on his face, dressed in a golden, heavy decorated armor and a white groom's toga - a depiction like a god. Unusual for a wedding ceremony, but it was a symbol. A symbol of the power and wealth of the twin's reign, a symbol of his triumph over General Acacius, who had no choice anymore than to give him his most precious belonging - his daughter.

Seeing you there on your knees was a sight we might never forget. Even if your back faced him, he could see your curves under the garment you wore and he immediately thought about the wedding night, which was the highlight in his mind for today. But right now he had to calm himself, as he stepped forward and suddenly took you at the waist to pull you from your crying mother's embrace. "Mother!", you screamed as the groom forced you to go with him, tears dripping down your cheeks under the flame-red veil. The tradition dictated that the bride would cry out in pain to fool the gods of the home that she was taken away, 'stolen' before you would have to walk the procession without the protection of any god until you stepped into the home of the groom.

All of Rome had gathered in the streets to witness the procession of the Emperor's wedding. You stood at his side on a richly decorated chariot carried by two pale-white horses. The big amount of wedding guests accompanied your path by singing the Hymenaeus and carrying a whitehorn torch, a spina alba, to honor the goddess Ceres. Normally you would simply walk to the palace, as it was the core of such a parade, but nothing was normal about an Emperor's wedding and especially not Geta's. He wanted to show-off, he wanted eveyone to know how powerful he was and that he was now marrying the daughter of one of Rome's most successful beloved generals. It was all calculated and everything followed a plan, he viewed as perfect. This union was not only a definite way to get you, it formed an even closer bond between his and his brother's reign and your father's role as a military general. Would he ever betray them again, it will also be a betrayal against you. And another calculated side-effect was the use of Acacius' popularity through a marriage with his daughter.

The masses cheered for you and for the Emperor, they wished you "feliciter" - "good luck" for your marriage, some of them even shouted your name. It felt surreal and you were glad that the veil covered your face, while you bit your tongue. The palace, your new home, on the palatin hill looked even more oppressive than the last time you'd faced it. Your heart was heavy and you could practically feel the stare Geta gave you, but also the one of Caracalla, who followed you two alongside your father and mother as part of the wedding procession. There was something lingering in his eyes, something you didn't notice as you were focused on what lied ahead. Geta leaned towards your ear and whispered.

"Isn't it exciting, my dear...? You will soon be the wife of an Emperor, my wife." He accenturated his last words, almost as if he had to point out that your life center will soon be him and him alone.

"How could i forget. Just as i may never forget the true reason, why i am here. A threat is still a threat", you answered in a low tone, provocative.

But the groom simply chuckled and turned his face towards the cheering masses again, waving to the common folk. He didn't really care about them in any way, but he knew well about the power of such events in the eyes of the plebs. And to accompany this wedding, he'd already ordered games in the collosseum and many festivities around Rome in honor of his special day.

"Let me tell you that i rather enjoy those little outbursts of hatred. I will ask you again, once you enjoy all the privileges an Empress has. I can be a generous man, as long as you're not testing my patience. For now, i simply expect you to smile and show those peasants the beauty of their beloved general's daughter. Let them see that the sun is shining upon them in the presence of Venus."

Words like honey and yet they tasted bitter to you, while his hand was locked on your back, not only to stabilize you on the chariot, but also holding you tightly against his own body. You belonged to him now and he wanted everyone to see that.

_______________________________

“Ubi tu Gaia, Ego Gaius.”

“Ubi tu Gaius, Ego Gaia.”

The words still rang in your head, again and again, even as the music and the chattering of the feast surrounded you. And you still felt the kiss of Geta's lips on yours, even if it was only the beginning. You were considered married now.

Fire and Water. The symbol of life. The moment you stood at the main door of the palace, a matron of honor hold a candle and a bowl of water, as both you and Geta traced your hands over it. He was able to lift your veil at that point, kiss you and carry you over the doorstep - it was that simple in the end. And it had sealed your life forever.

It was necessary and yet the kiss was longer than it should've been as it was the first symbolic union of groom and bride in front of the wedding guests, who cheered and honored them with chanter and congratulations. And even though it was just a kiss on the lips, nothing more, you could practically sense the hunger of Geta, the hunger for more. Of course it had to wait until he got you in his bed the first time, but this would soon become a reality and you didn't know if you were ready for it.

The music and the voices of the people were still a numb background sound as your eyes glanced over the room, while you were sitting right next to your now husband on a lectus, receiving one personal congratulation after another. The palace was richly decorated, even more than the last time you were here for the victory celebrations of your father. Hordes of servants ran around to assure that all the guests had enough of the expensive wine and expansive food, luxuriously presented on a long table with tons of fruits, vegetables, fish as well as expensive, rare meat such as ostrich, peacock and wild deer.

Roman generals, politicians, rich merchants, every patrician from Rome’s upper class had gathered here to celebrate the union between Emperor Geta and his new wife. The wedding gifts ranging from gold, jewelry and silk to exotic animals were piling up in another room, as servants had to walk in and out, every time another guest paid his respect. You gave them your smile and your words of thanks and yet none of it really reached your eyes, as you were still trying to cope with the fact that they now adressed you as 'Empress'. Your eyes went to your parents, which were part of the guests, who participated in the feast and celebrations. But you could clearly see the pain in your father's eyes and the pale face of your mother, who could barely eat something even though she tried to hide her sorrows behind her rehearsed mask of charm and politeness. Their eyes find yours in certain moments and it hurt you the most to see them like this as you knew very well, that your father gave himself the blame for your current situation. But you had already moved on, as it made no sense to cry about the past in any way.

But you were pulled from your thoughts, when it was Emperor Caracalla, who stepped forward to pay his respect to the new wed couple. The twin of Geta with the golden laurel wreath crown on his head was dressed in an ornate that depicted his wealth, expensive embroidered silk in dark blue and purple colors, a stark contrast to his gingerblonde, wild hair. Even though he smiled, you could see that it was a forced one, a bitter smile, hiding his true thoughts. "Brother, i congratulate you and your beautiful wife on your wedding. May the gods bless this union," he spoke out, while Geta already stood up and you followed him.

"Your words mean the most to me, Caracalla. Thank you," his twin answered with a happy smile as he took him into his arms and hugged him tight.

Even though Geta came off as a crual human being sometimes, it was undeniable that he hold nothing but a strong brotherly love for his twin, despite them sharing the power. After Geta, Carcalla turned to you and placed his hands on your cheeks.

"I welcome you to the family," he whispered, before he placed one kiss on each side of your cheek.

It was not an uncommon gesture to do so, especially not as a way to welcome someone in a new household - but Geta's eyes were locked on you two as his brother did so. And you were very aware that something was off in this very moment, as you could feel the slightly trembling fingers of Caracalla on your skin, as if he had to hold himself back. He quickly stepped back, staring into your eyes, while a servant rushed to him, giving the Emperor a small wooden box, carved with all sorts of flowers.

"I thought, ... since you'e now the new Empress of Rome, the only present worth your grace would be a crown that truly underlines your beauty," Caracalla explained and opened the box.

In it was a golden half-round Roman-styled tiara with ornamental decorations, well-crafted with every little detail that catched your eyes. It was stunning, even given all the expensive jewelry with which Geta had hung you, it was still breathtaking. A soft smile appeared on your lips, before you spoke your words.

"This is a wonderful and very generous gift, my Emperor. I thank you dearly". Caracalla's lips shuddered, before he forced an almost innocent smile on them too.

"This tiara is made after my personal request. The artist was assigned to model it after the crown that Empress Poppea wore once. The wife of Emperor Nero. I thought you might like the... historical connotation to it".

Your face grew pale, while you tried your best to keep your smile in place. Geta didn't seemed to realize what his brother meant with that - but you did. You instantly remembered the conversation you had with him at the amphitheater, you remembered the way he looked at you, the desire in his eyes, that was still present in this very moment. And even though his brother did not understand the true meaning behind Caracalla's gift, he did sense the tension that lingered in the air.

"Thank you, brother", he instantly cut the air with his voice, his hands softly taking the tiara out of the box before you could do anything.

Geta positioned himself between you and Caracalla, a very clear symbol that even if he tolerated his brother in your presence and might even be willing to allow him much more freedom than a husband would, it was still Geta, who called you his wife now. You were his. So it was him, who placed the tiara onto your head, where it perfectly fit with the half-bridal hairstyle you wore. His eyes lingered on your face for a moment, before his fingers touched your skin as he pushed one of your straints of hair back in place before leaning down to your ear.

"Just a little more time and then I'll have you all to myself", he whispered, before he turned to his seat again.

There was only one step for this marriage to be fully recognized in the eyes of the gods and it was the wedding night - Geta's prize, which he longed for and Caracalla's hell. The reminder he will not be the first to have you, but his twin.

_______________________________

"Say it! SAY THAT YOU LOVE ME!", he hissed over and over again, pounding harder with each word.

His fingers pressed against the neck of a concubine, while his golden rings tightly pinched into the soft flesh. She wore quite a similar attire than you did today, her hair styled like yours, her face at least reminding Caracalla of you. But that concubine was nothing like you, a dull replacement, a vessel the Emperor needed to get the heat and anger off his mind as he fucked her senseless under the eyes of his entourage of male and female slaves. No one said a word, fear was written in their eyes, because they knew it was one of their owners 'outbursts'. They could see how the young woman tried desperately to get a catch of air, while Caracalla strangled her in his psychotic state, tears running down his cheeks as he did so. Instead of his brother it should've been him to marry you, to fuck you, to love you like you deserved. A goddess amongst the common humans, a Venus. He was Nero and you were his Poppea. At least here in his own chambers, he could play out this fantasy, while the wedding celebration still went on and you were probably on your way to the chambers of his damned twin brother Geta. It needed a lot of sex and a cocktail of ancient drugs to numb his thoughts over this injustice.

"I love you-..., my Emperor", the young woman under him moaned with all the strength that she could find in a situation like that, the fear of losing her life all written on her face.

But those words were the ones Caracalla needed to hear. With a couple of heavy thrusts, he came inside of her, spilling his semen into that concubine like he would've done with you - if he just had the chance. His eyes were still shimmering wet with his tears, while he pulled back, catching his breath for himself in this moment. The young woman layed on the mattress in front of him, still alive, but in a state of bliss and shock, her eyes wet in tears as well. She wasn't able to say something, and even if so, she were not allowed to do anyways. Caracalla's ice-blue eyes stared cold at her naked body, freezing in the moment as he tried to still pretend to himself that it was you laying in front of him. But it wasn't you and it hit his mind now. This woman was just another whore he tried so desperately to numb his thoughts with. Yet the voices in his head grew louder and louder. "Get her out of my sight!", the Emperor ordered.

"I don't want to see this girl ever again. She is nothing compared to her - throw her away, i cannot stand this waste any longer!", he screamed with a hoarse voice, still sobbing.

"Where is Dondus!?"

No one dared to speak up in a situation like that, no one even dared to look at Caracalla. Everything that might anger the young Emperor could end in an immediate death right now. Even the slave that always carried his pet monkey around, simply rushed to the Emperor and handed him over Dondus in silence, before retreating as fast as possible.

"Oh Dondus, all of this is so unfair. Every time i desire something, he has to take it from me. Nothing truly belongs to me and me alone... it is alwas us", he mumbled with a shake in his voice, while he carefully took his monkey and placed him on a pillow as if it was his child.

Caracalla never treated anyone as careful and caring as he treated his pet monkey. In fact, he could be quite cruel, depending on his mood that changed rapidly between weird happiness and irrational anger. This little animal had more importance to him than any human life - well, except for yours of course. And everyone here knew this. The Emperor would never hurt Dondus, but it only took one outburst of hate for a slave or even a patrician to lose their head in an instant.

"I want her, my Poppea ... i cannot stand the thought of not having her...i cannot. I love you her you understand this, Dondus, don't you? No one understands me the way you do. She is an incarnation of Venus."

But Dondus just looked at him with his dark button eyes - how could a monkey understand love? And how could he understand, how much it pain it left in Caracalla.

____________________________

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[luvleyshif4]

BOUND TO YOU pt 2

Rafe Cameron x Reader (Rafe’s POV)

Summary: Even after dating for years, just like you, Rafe is still so in love with you, and he realizes just how obsessed with you he really is

Warning: fluffiest fluff, lot of physical touch, tooth rotting love, reader is a book gyal, this is purely Rafe’s POV (there aren't really any serious warnings)

Word count: 1.01k words

Authors note: so this is the Rafe POV yall requested, and when yall request I provide so here it is!!! Hope this is up to ur expectations!! LEMME KNOW IF IT IS😘😘 if you haven’t read reader’s POV yet you can read it after this or before this!!!👇🏽

Reader’s POV

RAFE’S POV

The soft hum of the laptop filled the room as Rafe typed away, his eyes scanning the screen, his brows slightly furrowed in concentration. His fingers moved quickly over the keys, the click of the buttons steady and rhythmic. But, despite the focus required for his work, he couldn’t help but be aware of the presence beside him.

He knew she was there—he could feel her gaze, even before he glanced up. It was a feeling he’d gotten used to over the years, that quiet attention she paid to him, always subtle but unmistakable.

Rafe glanced to his side, finding her eyes already on him. She didn’t look away, her gaze soft, almost distant, and it made his heart skip a beat. There was something in the way she looked at him that always made him feel like he was the most important person in her world, something he never took for granted.

“What?” he asked, his voice a little teasing, though he couldn’t hide the smile tugging at his lips. He knew the answer even before she tried to play it off.

“Nothing,” she murmured quickly, her gaze dropping to the book in her lap. But he could tell. She wasn’t fooling him.

He chuckled under his breath, watching her squirm a little, her cheeks warming. It was endearing, the way she always got embarrassed, even now. He loved it.

“Uh-huh,” he said, leaning back slightly and closing his laptop. There was no need to pretend to work when the real work was to be here with her, even if it was just in silence. “You’re staring at me, baby.”

“I’m not,” she said, but it was too late. He could see it, the way her lips twitched in a way that betrayed her.

He stretched out his arm, the invitation clear. Come closer. His eyes never left hers, and when she moved toward him, sliding into his side, he pulled her in close, his arm instinctively wrapping around her.

Her head found its place against his shoulder, and he couldn’t help but inhale the scent of her—clean and familiar, with just the slightest trace of something floral. Her warmth settled into him, and it felt like the world had quieted even more, leaving just the two of them in that little bubble.

Rafe let his hand rest gently on her waist, his thumb brushing lightly against her side. His fingers moved absentmindedly, tracing patterns, and he could feel her pulse quicken under his touch. He loved how sensitive she was, how her body responded to him so naturally. It was something he could never get enough of, that connection between them.

She tilted her head to look up at him, and he caught the way her gaze lingered on his lips for just a moment too long. He couldn’t resist.

Leaning in, he kissed her softly, his lips slow and deliberate against hers. It wasn’t rushed; it was a kiss that felt like it had been waiting for this moment, like everything had been building up to this.

His hand cupped her jaw, his thumb gently brushing her cheek, and he kissed her deeper, letting the world around them fade away. There was nothing in that moment except her, and he knew, without a doubt, that he would never tire of this—never tire of her.

When he pulled away, his forehead found hers, his eyes heavy with affection. He smiled softly, the kind of smile that was reserved only for her.

“You okay?” he murmured, his voice low and intimate.

She nodded, but he could see the emotions swirling in her eyes. She didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need words. Her presence was more than enough.

He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head, wrapping her up in his arms. The rhythm of her breath slowed against him, and he could feel the weight of her thoughts, even if she wasn’t voicing them. She was everything to him, and in this moment, with her tucked safely against him, he knew that it wasn’t just love. It was something deeper. Something that no words could capture.

Rafe’s fingers traced absent patterns on her arm, his touch soothing, a quiet comfort as he held her close. He could feel her body relax against his, but something about the stillness made him wonder if something was on her mind.

“You’re quiet,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper, like he didn’t want to break the peace they shared.

She tilted her head to look up at him, the corners of her lips lifting in a small smile, one that only ever seemed to appear when she was near him. It made his heart flutter, even after all this time. “Just thinking,” she replied, her voice light.

“About what?” he asked, a hint of curiosity in his tone, though he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was something more than simple thoughts. The way she paused, the way she looked at him, told him that she was feeling something—something that only the two of them shared.

Her smile softened, and for a moment, he thought she might not say anything. But then she spoke, her voice barely audible as she answered with the simplicity that always made his heart race.

“You.”

Rafe smiled again, the simple truth making his chest swell. He pressed another kiss to her forehead, his voice just as gentle as hers.

“Good,” he murmured. “’Cause I’m always thinking about you.”

There was no need for anything more. They just stayed like that, together, in that quiet space, the world outside forgotten for now. And as he held her, the realization struck him again, as it did every time: she was his everything.

Rafe knew he was bound to you the moment he met you. And even after all this time, he couldn’t get enough of you.

[bunni-v1]

Hnnghh christmas Lighter smut where reader is dressed in nothing but a long ribbon and bow bc he’s been a good boy this year

🍓Did u read my mind? Get outta there… jkjk, but seriously this is EXACLTY what I was thinking about. I really can’t dedicate the time to a full fic, which breaks my little gay heart, but imagine with me if you would… (this is a full fic btw i fucking lied to you and myself)

Tw: Nsfw; kinda rough (not too rough); UNEDITED ITS HORRENDOUS

Mdni

Christmas with the Sons of Calydon is pretty atypical. They have their own traditions that most New Eirduians would scoff at, but they’re rather important to those who live in these parts. Drinking, singing together (usually drunkenly and offkey), taking bike rides out to start a fire and literally burn away past regrets of the year, and of course fights — plenty of fights.

You weren’t exactly a fan of the fighting part, usually meant more work for you to do, but Lighter always seemed to have fun. Obviously he did, he never lost — he hardly broke a sweat for the most part. And he loved showing off, especially if you were there to watch him. Everything else was mostly normal, though… a little odd but custom made to your little ragtag group, and you loved it.

It felt warm, cozy, like family. They passed out gifts, most of them hand made or incredibly thoughtful since money was scarce for most of you. Lighter had gotten you a (rather expensive) bracelet with your and his initials engraved on it. It was sweet, and unexpected from the guy who pretended like the holiday was nothing for the months leading up to it.

It made you melt on the inside and feel nice and warm. However… his nonchalance about the holiday cause you one… teeny tiny, itty bitty problem. You had no clue what to get him, and you hadn’t gotten him anything — time had run out and no one would give you any good hints.

His insistence that you didn’t need to get him anything in return made your stomach ache. It was hard to focus on his fight when your head was rushing with ways to rectify the horrific mistake you’d made quickly. The red ribbon of the jewelry box wrapped around your fingers tightly, then unwound as you mulled over your options.

You could get him something for his bike, but you’d have to drive to the city and it’s unlikely he’d let you go without him — that’s if the stores were even open this late on a holiday. Maybe you could craft up something quick and easy, if you could get back to your place there surely would be something, but… that felt cheap. Especially compared to the bracelet.

“That ribbon’s pretty,” Caesar says next to you, drawing you from your thoughts, “Must’ve been one real fancy place he went to for ya.”

You sigh, leaning back against the wall a little, looking at the ribbon as you twisted it around, “I’m sure it was. He’s so hopeless sometimes.”

“Only because you’re so sweet on him,” She teases, nudging your shoulder lightly.

A laugh huffs out of your chest, then an idea strikes you. The ribbon is pretty. You actually had some like it back at your place, stored away from last years festivities. You twist the ribbon one last time, and then you grin, wide and wild. Lighter catches your eye as he socks his opponent in the jaw, smirking at you like he’d won a prize.

“Hey, Caesar,” You hum, turning to your friend who seemed a little uneasy at your expression, “How long do you think you can keep him distracted for me.”

She hums, watching him thoughtfully, “I’ll buy ya fifteen minutes — wait, why?”

“You’ll hear later~” You hum with a wink, and practically skip back to your place, leaving Caesar alone to deal with your very adrenaline filled boyfriend on her own.

It takes you half the time Caesar said she could get you to find the damn ribbon, and the other half is spent fighting for your life to get the thing on and look at least a little sexy. You tried to recall old articles you’d read on bondage and shibari, but it was hard to do without a guide. You’d managed to get all the good bits wrapped up and hidden, with a few extra crosses to make it look pretty.

You don’t get a chance to check because you hear Lighters heavy footsteps outside the door nearly as soon as you’ve tied the bow comfortably around your neck. Your able to sort’ve arrange yourself seductively on the bed for him just as the front door open and he calls out to you. You could tell he was annoyed from his voice alone. He never liked it when you left his shows early.

“Caesar told me you headed back here,” He called, boots thumping as he threw them off, “We’re you not enjoying the show?”

It’s a tease, you know it is, but there was an underlying annoyance in his voice that sent a tingle up your spine. He pushes the bedroom door open incredibly slowly, to the point you think he’s trying to surprise you with something. You have the gall to feel stupid for a moment right before his eyes land on you, and he stops at he takes in the sight.

There is an audible shudder as his eyebrows raise nearly to his hairline. He takes his sunglasses off, revealing those pretty green eyes that rake in every inch of you with hunger. Then, he smirks, shoving the bedroom door closed with his shoulder already working his gloves and jacket off to the floor. Forgotten without a second thought. The rest of his clothes follow quickly after.

“Merry Christmas!” You cheer, though you’re more nervous than happy. He clearly likes it, according to the quickly growing tent in his pants and how fast he is to strip himself, but he’s a little too quiet for your liking.

He sinks onto the mattress in front of you, hands ghosting around the bright red ribbon. Like if he touches it, it’ll all fall apart in his grasp. He traces each inch of it with careful practiced restraint, following the fabrics flow across your body until he remembers that you are under the fabric and he lands on your face.

His eyes soften when you smile nervously up at him, fingers tracing the apple of your cheek with such admiration it nearly makes you cry. “You like it?” You ask softly, unsure of yourself.

He scoffs like you’re stupid for wondering, “This might be the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

It draws a genuine laugh out of you, which he follows with his own as he comes down to nuzzle your cheek with his nose. Then a soft kiss that trails down to your lips, easing you into a slow careful dance of love and passion.

He readjusts your position so carefully, you almost don’t notice he’s doing it until he’s between your legs. Pressing them open then pressing his dick to the ribbons wrapping up your folds from him. You’re already dripping, the adrenaline from earlier enough to get you going, but the added friction just makes it worse. You’d never be able to reuse this stuff, that’s for sure.

His hands glide over your stomach, following the ribbon with lazy easy until he’s found the one covering you from him. His thumbs slide under the pieces, rubbing over the flesh of your abdomen gently. It’s then that he pulls away, a string of saliva keeping you connected as he presses his forehead to yours.

“You’re so perfect, you know that?” He murmurs quietly, “You could’ve given me a smile and I would’ve been happy.”

You shy away, “Well… I almost didn’t have anything to get you, but your gift, mmm, inspired me.”

He chuckles at you, reaching down to run his dick against your still covered folds. The silky fabric oddly making everything feel more intense. “I can see that. Very cute, by the way.”

“I know, thank you,” You hum, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he presses the two of you back into a laying position, “Now are you gonna unwrap your present, or are you gonna keep teasing yourself.”

A roll of the eyes and another smirk, “Y’know, I’ve never been a fan of ruining the wrapping paper. Shits expensive… so how about we go nice and slow.”

As he says that, he slides his dick between the ribbon, right up against your throbbing clit. You let out a surprised sound, quickly melting into sighs of pleasure and he fucks into the ribbon. Each push and pull stimulates your aching pussy into gushing out more for him, clenching on nothing as he fucks himself against you at a leisurely pace.

You take the chance to look down, moaning out as he head of him touches your thigh. The sight is something you’d see in a porno. Lighter follows your eyes, smiling to himself when he catches you practically going cross eyed at the sight.

“We look good together, don’t we, sugar?” He purrs. A rare nickname, sweet and extra praiseworthy — just like he thinks you are.

You nod along with him, fluttering your eyes back to his with a dumb little smile. Each drag of his dick makes your toes curl and nails dig into his broad shoulders. He sighs at the sensation, pressing kisses into your skin to quiet himself up. He’d rather listen to you, after all, and this was a gift for him.

His fingers begin to crawl up your body, dancing along the ribbon excitedly. They make sure to stop and tweak your nipples through the fabric, humming when he feels they’re sufficiently hard and sensitive under his touch. Then, finally, they reach the neatly tied bow around your neck.

The tug at it, gently unwrapping it from your neck and pulling it away with ease. Replacing the red of it with his tongue, licking and sucking new marks into the flesh. Your hips stutter against his, and he lets out a groan, squeezing your tit as warning. You whine, but don’t fight him anymore. His hands returning to unraveling the ribbon, pressing into the skin revealed until he is the only thing keeping the ribbon and his dick pressed against you.

You pout a little when he pulls away, pussy aching for friction once his dick is gone. You feel it clench as it looks for him, and god it makes you feel like a whore. He takes your hands from his shoulder and leans over you to tie them to the bed board above your head. You can feel how wet your were at the wrists, especially when he kisses them reassuringly.

“I love you tied up,” He hums, “You’re so pretty when you can’t do anything.”

You pout up at him, but he doesn’t stay to admire the look long, leaning over to the bedside table to grab the condoms. It occurs to you, in a state of lust driven stupor, that he shouldn’t have to fuck his christmas gift with a condom on.

“Ah, wait—“ He raises an eyebrow at you, hand just inches away from the condoms, “Would you wanna do it raw?”

He blinks at you, again surprised in the same way he was when he first saw you. “Are you serious?”

“We don’t have to—“ You quickly try to rectify the situation, but he cuts you off.

“No, no, we definitely have to,” He shakes his head, closing the drawer with one swift motion, “You’re trying to kill me out here, aren’t you?”

You shake your head, but he’s not listening as he pulls you up into the position he likes most. Legs over his shoulders, body bent in half so he can fuck you hard and fast. He gives you a few seconds to adjust to the position, then he’s pressing his dick into you at a painfully slow pace.

It’s because he’s just so big, he always has to go slow, but you wish he’d just fuck you through the pain right now. The stretch is perfect as always, and you suck him in like it’s nothing with how wet you already were.

He cusses when he finally bottoms out, pressing his face into the side of your neck. You can feel his hot breath fan against your skin, tingling deliciously. “Fuck you’re always so tight. I’m never gonna get used to it, sugar.”

You hum, though you’re in no better shape. Shivering and shuddering every inch, and still quaking as he sits still inside you. You play with his hair to distract from how hot you are, and how you wish he’d make you hotter.

He gives himself a moment to calm down, then he presses a kiss you your cheek, readjusts you just a little so your muscles don’t tense up, and then he moves. The first three thrusts are slow and easy, then he starts to slam into you hard.

“Oh fuck—“ You cry out as the deafening smack of his hips into your ass rings out across the room.

The pace he sets is brutal and unrelenting, you were hoping for it all night. The unspent adrenaline from his earlier fights coming right back to fuck you so good you know you won’t be walking tomorrow. Each slap of his balls against your quickly reddening ass is accompanied by a stifled moan.

He watches you with an intensity you weren’t aware he was capable of, eyes drinking in every single inch of your expression. He looked crazed, but that’s what made it so hot. He was obsessed with every little look, every little sound that left you.

“Don’t be quiet, sugar,” He hums, pushing two of his fingers along your bottom row of teeth to force the sounds out.

“They’ll hear—“

“Let ‘em,” He dismisses, “They know you’re mine anyway, who cares.”

You really couldn’t argue with that, especially not when he shifts ever so slight to hit your g-spot head on. A salacious moan rips out of your throat, and your sure Caesar has figured out what you were up to earlier from that alone. He doesn’t stop ripping sounds out of you, though, continuing his brutal pace and hitting that spot so well you think you’re seeing stars.

The build up to your orgasm is so quick you hardly have time to realize it’s happening. One second you’re fine the next your throwing your head back and moaning like a whore.

“Lighter- Baby, I’m— fuck me- god I’m gonna cum, Lighter.” You admit, way too loud for your liking.

He hums, seeming to switch gears and fuck you faster somehow, “Go ahead, I’ve got you. Lemme feel you cum for me.”

You nod, chest rising and falling rapidly as start litter your vision. You think you nearly pass out, but Lighters hard thrusts fuck you through your orgasm. You squeeze him so tight, like you’re trying to milk his own out of him. You want him to fill you up, want to feel his warm cum deep in your belly. Want to see it drip down your thighs and pool onto the bed when he pulls out.

“Cum inside, please.” You beg.

“Fuuuck… ‘re you—“

You nod, “I need it, please cum in me. ‘S part of your present.”

He groans, fisting the sheets next to your head, “Suagr, you’re fuckin’ killin’ me.”

Always one to please, Lighter does exactly as you ask. Filling you to the brim with his thick hot cum. You revel in his moans, and only slightly wish you could curl your nails into his shoulders to leave another christmas gift for the morning.

He eases you into a more comfortable position before collapsing on top of you. His weight is welcome against your spent body, as are the wet kisses he presses into your sore skin. He unties your hand with one of his, and you quickly wrap them up into his hair.

“I love you,” He mumbles into your shoulder, “So much. You’re the best gift a guy can ask for.”

You giggle at the praise, “I love you too, Lighter.”

[honeytonedhottie]

decentering men and recentering urself⋆.ೃ࿔*:･💅🏽💓

the secret to decentering men and not having ur entire world revolving around them (bcuz it should be revolving around you, duh) is having a fulfilling life. it makes me ICK so bad when im watching a video or reading a post and im rly loving it, and then it'll find SOME way to make it revolve around men. like can we not?…💬🎀

WHY WE CENTER THE OPPOSITE SEX ;

a lot of people find themselves centering their lives around the opposite sex in an attempt to fill a void within themselves. they do it because they aren't happy with themselves or their lives, or maybe its learned behavior. whatever the reason is, its NOT hot.

some things that someone who centers men might think are "oh my life is so boring, maybe it would be spiced up if i got with a man" or "maybe it'll bring some excitement into my day" like EUGHHH. obviously the solution is to find ways to make our lives fulfilling but how do we do that? and how do we get to the root cause and squash this self sabotaging behavior?

SELF AWARENESS ;

if u have nothing going on for u, ofc ur gonna be energetically desperate and accepting anything and EVERYTHING. practice self awareness and try to get to the root cause of why u center men through things like shadow work, therapy, or just straight up having an honest conversation with urself cuz i swear it helps.

when you make the conscious effort to build ur dream life you'll notice that people that are on the same mindset as you will vibe with the REAL you. the need to fake/adjust urself to fit in with other people will dissipate because ur fitting into ur own standards and ur connections will be more meaningful because of it.

TAKE UR POWER BACK ;

no ones actions should ruin ur day or make u upset for more then a day (even less) cuz its YOUR world. 💕🍰

make time for YOU, doll. plan self care routines for urself every week. doing face masks, journalling, vision boarding, WHATEVER U LIKE TO DO. making time for urself reminds u that ur the main character of ur life so u dont have to settle for crumbs.

stop giving that power to someone else and dictate how u feel, NOT the actions of a significant other or the opposite sex or anybody. the reason why its important to make sure that ur the center of ur own life is so that you can be happy and fulfilled regardless of if there is a man or if there isnt a man present. so the objective is to decenter men -> and then put yourself at the center

GET A HOBBY ;

find something to make ur life fulfilling. pursue ur OWN interests and try out different hobbies if ur unsure of what ur interests are yet. cultivate ur world to the point where it GLEAMS with perfection and then do a little extra. build a life that u love so much that whether u get male attention or validation doesnt even matter cuz their opinions have little to no relevance 💀

challenge yourself: next time you catch yourself thinking, ‘would a guy like this?’ flip it and ask urself "hey, do i like this?" start checking with yourself first instead of checking with others.

MAKING THE DECISION TO DECENTER MEN ;

decentering men simply means that ur deciding to no longer think, feel, act, dress, or plan ur life around a man or for the validation of any man…💬🎀

relationships will actually get BETTER when u decenter the opposite sex. cuz ur not looking for someone to compete with and ur whole on ur own. this sets the stage for balance and mutual respect and THATS hot.

you can be in a relationship and still decenter men. decentering men simply means that you are the priority, not the relationship. how can we tell if we're decentering men or not? here are a few questions to help you know if u are ->

if i did not care about looking good to the opposite sex what would i actually like to wear?

if i did not get married, how could i create the best and most abundant life for myself?

what hobbies/interests do i have that dont involve being around men/have male attention as a component of it?

[marsprincess889]

Vedic astro mini post_ look at your moon rashi and nakshatra

Creativity, depth and connection to yourself.

🌙🌕

There's a good reason why moon is considered the most important placement. Even if on the surface another element, sign or nakshatra dominates, nothing will resonate with you quite like your moon placement.

But another placement rivals its personal significance and depth, and that's Ketu.

Oftentimes, Ketu is present in every part of a native and their life, because it's quite literally their "foundation". As a result, when people creatively express themselves(putting their essence in something), Ketu placements show up thematically, and usually as the true, core meaning of whatever they made. But Moon is there too. Consider this: if creativity is a state of flow and play, then it requires a state of comfort and ease to access it, which is the Moon.

Moon can be seen as the "key" to Ketu's world. Moon's sign, house and nakshatra placement can indicate experiences or anything that pushes a person into a mode of comfort and ease. And that can trigger creativity. (Claire nakti has a great video on YT about Ketu and creativity. She also touches on how moon's nakshatra shows up more obviously or in terms of the general "setting" of the story in that or another video)

Inspiration itself is seen through 5th house, Venus and Ketu.

You can definitely use this to analyze your own creative process, or just how you go about life in general, esp regarding flow, ease, enjoyment and playfulness. You can also spot connections between your and your fav astrists'/creative people's charts.

You can obviously connect with people who have your big three nakshatras in their big three, also with their yoni consorts. You're also almost certainly will feel a familiarity or a "knowing" with people who have your ketu nakshatra in their big three. You might resonate deeply to the creative works of people who have your moon nakshatra as their ketu. (I definitely go "wow" when I read a Kafka quote or listen to Hans Zimmer, both have Bharani ketu).

Anyways, the connection you have to your moon's sign and nakshatra is literally the first thing you should look at. For me, I keep forgetting I'm an Aries🔥🐏 with a Venus nakshatra💕. Fire_ this is important to me, even if my Sun and Asc are in Earth signs and I have nothing else in the fire element. I do relate to the theme of fire strongly and it touches a way deeper part of me than for example, themes of Earth and abundance, as relevant as they still are. It's about the personal significance and the depth of it_ that is what can't be recreated.

[ciswomenofficial]

Mkay, well, I don’t really care about the dishes on your anarchist commune—i mean I’m sure whatever compromise anarchism is capable of coming to will be misogynistic and in general let random charismatic people’s biases rule their social spaces—but I care much more about anarchism’s history of giving ground to the petty bourgeoisie, and how they keep doing that because they have liberal ideas about how to create freedom. I’m much more concerned about many anarchists celebrating the idea of the carceral system being replaced by spontaneous social ostracisation or even lynchings led by the will of a masses they aren’t willing to accept needs to be prepared and changed in order to rule (or else the masses they have little but vague nothings as a plan to change). I’m much more concerned that anarchism has achieved little in terms of strategic victory and yet that it has had an almost complete ideological stagnation and lack of meaningfully new ideas throughout its development, and has certainly made little progress strategically in that time as well. And most of all, I’m critical of how anarchists are unwilling to criticize their magic set of libertarian ideals imported from liberalism and take them as anything other than a set of dead stone-still sky truths that must never be questioned in social science with no regards or thought to which classes they serve. But sure. The mean tankies are just mad because they believe in forcing everyone to do dishes at gunpoint I guess and all the anarchist will vaguely work it out horizontally somehow (as though no revolution needs to happen in the domestic sphere until those contradictions become violent and acute and can only be solved with violence, as though there are no ingrained biases in the masses that will affect what they chose or negotiate, as though peoples forces of will and charisma are equal and they’ll all have an equal say without a formal structure). Anarchism wins apparently because if problems can’t be solved or aren’t solved suitably by talking it out, they must be solved by violence, unlike the scary tankies with their scary shadow states which will do things like have mass movements to confront these social problems a la the cultural revolution (imperfect and sometimes violent and therefore wicked by default.

Sometimes critiques of anarchism seem to come from a framework that asks anarchists to have a plan for what to do if half of their society suddenly decides to stubbornly refuse to cooperate with anything despite it being in the best interests of themselves and everyone around them; but for statists takes "we'll just force compliance from above" as an answer needing no justification, as if the use of force has only ever ensured perfect obedience and never sowed discontent.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Hyperbole

Hyperbole

An intentional exaggeration or an exaggerated statement that isn’t meant to be taken literally.

Typically used to make writing and speech more exciting using exaggeration. An imaginative hyperbole can capture the attention of a reader or listener as they analyze the hyperbole to understand the user’s actual meaning.

Examples of Hyperbole

Jim fell off the roof and broke every bone in his body.

Don’t touch that hive unless you want to deal with a million angry bees.

We looked forever for the remote but couldn’t find it.

My sister will eat anything.

The whole world was against me, but I managed to complete the report on time.

That comment is the dumbest thing anyone has ever said.

My mom keeps checking up on me every five seconds.

The explosion was loud enough to wake the dead.

I told him a billion times to keep the window closed.

My dad will kill me if he finds out I failed my math test.

That house is older than the dinosaurs.

The TV weighed a ton, so I had to drag it across the room.

Our grandma was the smartest person who ever lived.

The star running back is a bulldozer who destroys anything in his path.

I was sweating buckets while working outside today.

We live in Dallas, and my brother lives a million miles away in Toronto.

Hurry up and hand me the scissors before I die of old age.

The clowns had the entire audience dying with laughter.

She’s been working nonstop on her new painting.

My job is so easy that a monkey could do it.

Our daughter is a little angel.

The smell was so bad it would’ve downed a bull elephant.

Gaston is stronger than 10 men and has a smile that lights up the room.

Since she got sick and stopped eating, my cat has been nothing but skin and bones.

Hyperbole is an example of a rhetorical device.

Typically, a rhetorical device is defined as a technique or word construction that a speaker or writer uses to win an audience to their side, either while trying to persuade them to do something or trying to win an argument.

In the case of hyperbole specifically, exaggerated language can give an audience a sense of scale. For example, hyperbole can be used to imply an issue a speaker supports is very important or be used to imply an issue a speaker opposes is unimportant or dangerous.

At the same time, hyperbole can help establish a rapport with an audience, as it’s often seen as an example of less formal language.

it is important not to confuse or mislead an audience.

It should be clear whether or not a statement is a hyperbole.

A good practice is to use extreme embellishment or impossible feats in your hyperbole to make it abundantly clear that you are exaggerating. For example:

Ambiguous hyperbole: There are twenty cats in the barn. (A possible event.)

Clear hyperbole: There are a billion cats in the barn. (An impossible exaggeration.)

In formal writing and serious situations, hyperbole must be used sparingly and effectively.

Because hyperbole is often viewed as less formal, it may come across as inappropriate or make the user seem as though they aren’t serious.

When an audience expects accurate information or hard facts, hyperbole can give the impression that the speaker doesn’t have the information the audience wants or is intentionally concealing it from them.

Ill-timed use of hyperbole like this can damage the speaker’s credibility or weaken their influence over their audience.

Literary Examples of Hyperbole

His horses are the finest and strongest that I have ever seen, they are whiter than snow and fleeter than any wind that blows. —Iliad by Homer (7th/8th century BCE)

Nor was Stubb the only banqueter on whale’s flesh that night. Mingling their mumblings with his own mastications, thousands on thousands of sharks, swarming round the dead leviathan, smackingly feasted on its fatness. —Moby Dick by Herman Melville (1851)

It surprised me that what before was desert and gloomy should now bloom with the most beautiful flowers and verdure. My senses were gratified and refreshed by a thousand scents of delight and a thousand sights of beauty. —Frankenstein by Mary Shelley (1818)

Sources ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[urperfectcinnamonroll07]

Hiii :) i was wondering if you could write a “mingyu being obsessed with your tits” pretty please??? Thankyouu

Obsessed

requested?: yes pairing(s): kim mingyu x afab!reader genre: smut warning(s): smut (you know the drill), tits appreciation. nipple play, unprotected sex (wrap it up, its getting cold ya'll, its winter), soft sleepy sex, soft mingyu, mentions of older men and men reader's age staring at her (very brief), fingering, (slight) dom to sub!mingyu, aftercare (switched it up a lil and made the reader give mingyu aftercare) summary: 𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘺𝘶 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘴, 𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘰𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘯 ��𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦. word count: 2.1k a/n: hello, thank you so much for the very lovely request. honestly i have been very busy, so i hope you can find it in yourselves to forgive me. i hopefully will try and get the two twisted series fics out soon because it has been sitting in my to-do list for quite a while! i also may wrtite a small christmas smut for a special someone i have been crushing on for a while now (coughdrewstarkeycough). but, remember to eat and drink something, love yas, mwah!

it was safe to say that mingyu had always been obsessed with your tits. whenever you wore a dress that was low cut, he could barely focus on anything the whole night that wasn’t your tits. but what he really loved was when you didn’t wear a bra with your shirts, that way he could see your perked up nipples when it was cold. he loved it.

but mingyu has been busy lately, with learning new dances for songs and singing and all the shit idols do, so he never really has much time to fuck you anymore. but, that was an exception for tonight. tonight, there was a really important event, and you had worn a very low cut dress. you got a lot of stares from older men and men your age, but you were glued to mingyu’s side the whole time so none of them ever gawked too much or ever came up to you.

but when it was time to sit and eat with the rest of seventeen, mingyu never took his eyes off of you, or rather, a specific place on you. the only place mingyu ever looked for the entirety of the night was down at your tits that were slightly protruding from your low cut dress.

the rest of the night went by pretty fast, and you had a lot of fun with your boyfriend and his group. and when it was time for you to go home, you sat in the passenger seat like a little princess, all dolled up. you and mingyu had decided since it was pretty late and you were both quite tired that you would shower tomorrow instead of tonight. mingyu kept his hand on your thigh the whole ride home, and when he pulled onto the driveway, he quickly ran around to your side of the car and open your door before you even got the chance to wake up properly.

he walked behind you into the house and helped you take your shoes off since you were extremely tired and still hadn’t woken up properly.

mingyu helped you upstairs to your shared bedroom and helped you out of your skin tight dress. it was amazing how fast he managed to get you out of your clothes and into an oversized t-shirt. you then took your make-up off by yourself while mingyu got changed before letting yourself fall into bed alongside mingyu.

it was safe to say that you were almost half asleep when you felt mingyu place a cold hand on your tits, you jerked back into him, recoiling at how cold his hands were as he moved the other one on your other tit.

“sorry” he mumbled softly as he kisses down your neck slowly from behind you. “needed to warm them up”

he continued to leave open mouth kisses down your neck, very soft and light ones before beginning to suck a little. you felt him pinching and kneading at your now hardened nipples. you let your head rest back on mingyu’s chest as he played with your tits. nothing felt rushed as he slowly moved one hand down to the waistband of your panties.

he slowly dipped a finger in-between your folds and instantly found your clit he rubbed a small circle around it before dipping his fingers down further and before you knew it was slipping a finger in your hole. he instantly curled the finger and pressed his thumb to your clit, applying some pressure and adding another finger into your sopping hole.

you let out a small whimper as he curled the two fingers yet again, making you squirm against him. there was whimper and moans that left your mouth that were so quiet that you would of missed them had you both not been so quiet. mingyu pulled your hips back to him as you tried to buck them away from him. you were nearing your high and you knew it.

“shhh, my love, it’s okay, let go for me” he whispers softly into your ear. you only whimper in response at his raspy voice, clenching around his fingers.

it was another few curls of his fingers and circles of your clit before you clamped down on his hand, trapping it in-between your thighs and crying out. your hips bucked a few times as he helped you ride out your high before pulling his fingers back and sucking them clean, making a noise of satisfaction as he tasted your juices.

“taste so good, baby” he whispers softly against the shell of your ear, placing a few kisses on your neck before you pushed him away softly and turned over to face him. you could now feel his hard cock pressing against your stomach.

your hand travelled down from his shoulder where it was resting, down his chest to his stomach and eventually to the tent in his joggers. you undid the strings and instantly took his thick cock in the palm of your hand. you jerked him a few times, using the pre-cum gathered at the tip as a form of lube before using your other hand to massage his balls.

it didn’t take long before mingyu was whimpering and moaning as pathetically as you were beforehand. you smirked softly as you realised the bucking of his hips meant he was close to reaching his high, his moans beginning to get louder. you had him exactly where you wanted him. you kept going for another few seconds before you took your hands away, leaving your poor boyfriend without an orgasm, he whimpered as he opened his eyes again to look at you.

you then moved the sheets aside and looked down at his joggers which had a small wet patch in the crotch before smirking again and going down to the bottom of the bed and tugging at his joggers. he instantly got the hint and lifted his hips up, helping you to get his joggers off.

you then pulled them off fully and threw them somewhere in the room, you would find them tomorrow. you looked up at mingyu’s flushed face through your lashes as you opened your mouth and lowered your mouth onto his cock. your right hand came up to cup and massage his balls as you lowered your head straight down onto his cock. you gagged slightly, your eyes brimming with tears, but you started bobbing your head nonetheless.

it didn’t take long before mingyu was whimpering your name and practically begging you to let him come down that pretty little throat of yours. and you let him, you bobbed your head a few more times before his lower stomach tensed up and he let out a somewhat loud whimper before his seed painted your throat white. you rode him through his high, still massaging his balls and bobbing your head until he shook with overstimulation.

you pulled your head away from his cock and took your hand away to stop massaging his balls which now had small bits of your saliva running down it. you then opened your mouth to show him you had swallowed every but of him, to which he put his head back in the pillows and muttered a low ‘fuck’.

you rubbed your thighs together with a small smirk before clambering on top of him and straddling his pelvis. his cock perked up again because you felt his hard length pressing against your ass. you wiggled your hips slightly, just to tease him a little, which resulted in a small groan along with his hands gripping your hips tightly and throwing his head back in the pillows.

“you want me to ride you baby?” you ask sweetly, wiggling your hips again. he only groaned slightly in approval, but you frowned and spoke again, “gonna have to do better than that, baby. use your words for me, hm?” you coo.

“please” he says breathily “ride me please” he whines.

“oh good boy” you coo again, though this time closer to his ear as you kissed your way down his neck to his shoulders, leaving bites every so often. “no touching or i’ll stop, yeah?” you say, sitting back up straight on his lap, he nodded softly, thinking it would be easy.

you weren’t going to make it easy, so you took your shirt off.

mingyu swallowed hard when he saw your tits, itching to reach out for them and massage them, touch them, roll your nipples, anything. he just wanted to touch them so damn bad. you smirked when you saw that his hands twitched, wanting to touch you, but restraining himself, knowing the consequences. you kissed down his chest lightly before deciding to stop teasing and just ride him.

you slowly lined his cock up with your dripping hole before slowly sinking down onto him. you moaned softly, throwing your head back as you reached the base of his cock. mingyu let out a groan in satisfaction, trying to keep his hands at his sides. you let yourself adjust to the size of him, wiggling your hips lightly, earning a small whimper from the man beneath you.

you smiled softly and leaned down to kiss him softly before sitting back up on his cock and lifting yourself up. you let yourself fall back down on his length, moaning as his cock filled you up so well. mingyu loved your snug walls around you any time of day, and when you lifted your hips up to drop them back down onto his length, you could’ve sworn you heard a pathetic little moan slip out from his mouth.

you grin widely as you look down at him, his eyes lidded and lust-filled.

“being such a good boy” you praise, grinding your hips down onto his again, creating the best friction against your clit and causing his tip to prod at your cervix. you looked down and saw the small bump in your stomach caused by his cock and smiled even wider, if that was even possible. “look what you do to me baby” mingyu looked down and instantly threw his head back, letting out a small whimper.

his adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly, you laughed lightly before beginning to bounce on him again. you placed your hands on his chest for a bit of leverage, your pace beginning to quicken. mingyu let out small whimpers and moans when you began kissing up and down his chest. instead of bouncing, you were now grinding. you then sat back up after you had left a few marks on him.

this time, you were now bouncing with so much force that your tits were bouncing as you did so. mingyu never took his eyes off your bare chest, this was your favourite position for the both of you, the only downside being that your thighs got tired very fast, which they were now.

mingyu must have sensed this because he started to thrust up into you with a force that had you mewling and panting like a dog in heat. you could feel the burn in your stomach, the desire, the need to come.

“gonna-gonna come” you say through pants. mingyu smiled softly but then let out a small whimper as your walls clamped down on him. you were getting closer every time you lifted your hips and slammed them back down again, mingyu matching your thrusts.

you could feel a mouth close around your left nipple, sucking and biting softly, and your other tit getting massaged. and weirdly enough, that was the thing that threw you over the edge, making you come so good.

mingyu was still thrusting up into you, helping you ride out your high while moving his attention to your other breast, beginning to suck and nip at the right one and massaging your left.

he kept his mouth around your nipple, continuing to such while he came with small muffled whimpers. you felt his seed cover your insides, painting your silky walls white with his come.

you were both panting when he pulled away from your tits, admiring your fucked out state. he was still inside of you when he picked you up and brought you to the bathroom. you slowly sat him down on the toilet seat before climbing off him and running a bath. he was going to stand up himself and do it before you pushed him back down.

“let me take care of you, baby” you said softly, he nodded and sat back down again.

you finished running the bath and allowed him to get in. you sat down facing him and washed his body for him, as well as his sweaty hair and face. you then washed yourself and sat in the bath for a little while together until you both got out and got dressed for bed again.

you were laying as you had been prior to all of your ‘fun’. you felt a hand creep up your stomach to your tits, and when you looked behind you, you saw mingyu sound asleep, and not long later, you joined him.

[nightingalescall]

The Devil and Angel's Waltz

Kingdom of Ebreau:

prologue|part 1|part 2|part 3(you are here)

"Are you disfigured?"

"What?"

"Nevermind."

You stared at the maid as she walked away, stunned.

What in the...

"Something the matter, Messiah?" Marika's voice rang from across the table. You turned your gaze back and blinked.

"It's nothing, your highness." You smiled politely as you raised the teacup to your lips, eager to taste the drink. The smell wafted into your nose first before it even reached your tongue.

Jasmine tea.

You swallowed.

With honey.

You placed the cup back down on the coaster. The tea was well balanced. If not steeped for too long, Jasmine tea is quite flavourless with only its aroma to remind you of the kind of drink it was. The honey mixed in afterward added a nice subtle tone of sweetness to the otherwise bland tea.

It's good.

Under normal circumstances, you would have said it tasted great but the question the maid whispered into your ear earlier as she poured you this drink made the liquid not go down right. You'd even say it had an unusual bitter aftertaste.

"You may simply call me Marika, Messiah. You are no ordinary folk so no need for such formalities." Marika smiled as she reached for a cookie on the table. "T-that wouldn't be very polite of me, your highness." You declined her request, letting out an awkward laugh.

You glanced at Zephyr beside you. He hasn't said anything ever since you arrived at the palace. His cup of tea sat untouched on the table, growing colder by the minute. A slight smile was present on his lips as he listened but it felt different from the one you’re used to seeing.

It looked…superficial. Fake. Ingenuine.

Zephyr didn't want to be here.

That makes two of you then.

Actually, scratch that. That makes three of you.

You peaked at the silent white hair beside Marika from the corner of your eyes. This was the fourth time since the moment you two met. With the help of your veil, you managed to avoid detection by the prince whenever you snuck glances at him. You wished you didn't have to do this but Calerus' words still rang clear in your mind.

Beware the heretics.

It would be foolish of you to ignore this individual when even god himself tells you to be wary of him.

Thus, even with your whole body going into fight or flight mode, screaming at you to look away from his eyes, your mind was determined to keep tabs on him.

Xion was sitting with his legs crossed, one over the other. His hands placed neatly on his lap, occasionally patting down his silver uniform and smoothing out any creases. He kept his gaze on the table in front of him or off to the side throughout the entire conversation. His ruby eyes were distant and unfocused like he was thinking, plotting, scheming.

He was mentally elsewhere you concluded.

You looked away, not letting your gaze linger longer. You turned back towards Marika, who seems to be the only person who actually wanted to be here. She finished swallowing the bite of the cookie she had eaten before continuing. "I don't mind, Messiah. Please just call me that. If we are to rule together and protect Ebreau, putting so much importance on our statuses and titles will only obstruct our cooperation." She reasoned.

"I-I see..." You mumbled behind your cup as you took another sip of the tea to calm your nerves. Silence fell over the table. You looked up from your cup in confusion. Marika stared back at you, the same sweet smile on her face.

...?

You knitted your eyebrows together behind your veil.

What's going on...?

Xion's priecing gaze snapped towards you. Your body froze in place as he stared you down, like a predator does before pouncing on its prey. Your mind raced for words to say as the staring continued.

"The temple simply call her 'Messiah', your highness. However, if you must know, her name is (y/n)." Zephyr finally said his first words after getting here, helping you break the silence. "Ah, I see. Then, (y/n), I hope this will be a fruitful collaboration." Marika smiled.

Oh, she just wanted your name?

The realisation hit you and you breathed a sigh of relief, your hands relaxing their tight grip around your tea cup. You felt Xion's eyes also leave you as the tension that hung in the air dissipated. You internally thanked Zephyr for answering in your stead, not daring to think how long that silence would have lasted or how it would have been broken if he didn’t.

"Would you like to see the ballroom now, (y/n)?" Marika placed her cup down. "You may practice there while the servants are finishing up the preparations for tonight's ceremony. I will personally inform them if you wish." The queen offered. It would be a good idea to familiarise yourself with 'the stage' for tonight. Plus, extra practice could never hurt.

"I would like that, M-marika." You struggled to get the queen's name out your mouth. It felt wrong to call someone with such status by their first name. "Follow me then." Marika smiled and stood up, leading the way out of the room. Xion followed behind her, not bothering to toss you a glance. You and Zephyr walked at the back, side by side.

The palace's hallways were long. Not surprising there. With multiple twists and turns, up and down some stairs, the walk there seemed to stretch on forever. At least the walkways were decorated very nicely though. They provided some form of distraction from this boring excursion. The walls were painted in white with some kind of floral motive drawn on in silver near the bottom and top. Paintings of knights on horses, nobles in luxurious clothing, flowers in the wild and many more (including some abstract ones that didn't look like anything at all) hung on the wall. Some almost side by side, some few and far between. The carpet beneathe your feet was blue with golden edges as it paved the entire way to the ballroom, even the stairs had them. Plus, it looked surprisingly clean.

The servants here must work real hard.

You thought to yourself as a butler pushed open a large wooden door, allowing your little entourage to enter.

The room before you was spacious, to say the least. Just from one glance, you could tell this was the ballroom where nobles and commoners alike would gather during special occasions.

Just like your initiation tonight.

The ballroom was beautiful and extravagant even without any extra decorations. The floor was marble and it glistened. Looking down at it, you could see your reflection in it. No doubt the work of the maids mopping it on the other side of the ballroom. A small stage was placed to the side for the orchestra who will be responsible for the music of your dance tonight. Two long tables were placed opposing the stage, on the other side of the ballroom. You assumed it's for the food that will be served this evening. Several butlers were up on ladders, wiping away at the glass windows, determined to clean away any smudges.

You turned your gaze ahead of you.

A young maid was wiping down the thrones Marika and Xion would be seated on for tonight at the far end of the ballroom.

The servants here definitely work real hard.

"You may practice here for the afternoon, (y/n). I have informed the servants here to let you use the dance floor." Marika turned to you and said with a smile. Behind her, the butler who had helped open the door walked away and towards the directions of other servants, probably to inform them of the queen's order. "Thank you, your highness." You nodded your head at her before catching your error. "Marika." You corrected yourself.

Marika's smile grew even wider at that. "I will leave you to it then, (y/n). I still have matters to attend to before the ceremony starts tonight so I must excuse myself." Marika made her way back towards the door before stopping and turning back towards you one last time. "Please don't hesitant to call any of the servants if you need something. They'll be happy to serve you." The queen finally stepped out of the room.

Silence fell over your group for a moment as you stared Zephyr, Zephyr stared at you and...Xion stared at you both. To be honest, you were too scared to look at Xion but the current situation called for it so you slowly shifted your gaze to the prince.

Xion was still looking at you with those cold ruby eyes. His face blank and his body unmoving. It was unnerving how still he was. It was like he was simply observing you, waiting for the right time to make a move. But what that move is, you’re not sure.

You opened your mouth to speak but before any words came out, Xion bowed. "I will leave now too." He excused himself and within a few seconds, he was gone as well.

...

You watched as he left and as the door swung shut, you let out a sigh of relief, the tension in your body dissipating. It felt like you could finally breathe again.

"Are you alright, Lady (y/n)?" Zephyr's voice sounded beside you and you felt his hand on your back. His worried face came into view as he leaned down, his bangs falling to one side as he did so. "...That..." you started as you tried to find the right words to describe how you were feeling. The thumping of your heart, the sweat in your palms, the nauseousness and the dread. There really was only one answer.

"That was terrifying."

~✟~

What is this room for?

The thought flashed through your mind as you slipped on the ceremonial dress. The soft silky fabric rubbing against your face as you pulled it down your head and then body. Your hands patted down the bodice and skirt, smoothing out any creases and ensuring there were no folds.

You walked towards the full body mirror placed beside a bookshelf on the left side of the room. The room was nearly identical to the one you had tea with the queen and prince just now with only the arrangement of furniture slightly different and an extra mirror for some reason (maybe you're too poor to understand the taste rich people have in interior design). You stood in front of the mirror, admiring the details of the dress.

For the monumental ceremony tonight, the temple went all out with your clothes. Similar to your daily attire, the garment was in the shade of gold. The fabric metallic and shining. A clear statement of its high quality. The skirt reached down to the floor. Its hems brushing against the carpet beneathe your feet with every movement. The skirt was further accentuated with a few layers of sheer fabric in a similar colour, some longer, some shorter, creating patterns and adding volume to the skirt. Floral patterns were embroidered on parts of the fabric using gold thread and finally dusted with a small amount of glitter as a finishing touch.

The sleeves were long just as your usual clothing. The fabric was semi transparent and clung loosely to your arms. Not a bad choice considering how light and airy it was, not to mention soft. There was no collar, making it perfectly breathable and easy to move in.

You can't imagine how much money they spent to get something with such standard.

Better take care and not rip it.

You reminded yourself before slipping on the pair of black court shoes that were prepared for you.

Leather. Sturdy.

You clicked the heels of the shoes together twice. The sharp sound resounding loudly through the room.

"Alright, all done here... Time to head back." You mumbled to yourself as you folded your clothes and took them into hand. As you exited the room, you grabbed your veil on the table beside the door with your other hand and pushed the door shut using your foot once outside.

Back to the ballroom. Zephyr should be back with the new veil too.

You turned right and headed down the hallway, retracing the path the butler had shown you before to get here. The butler was kind enough to lead you to an empty room not far from the ballroom to allow you some privacy to get changed. Zephyr went to retrieve the modified veil in the meantime so it was just you for once.

With one hand, you twisted and turned the veil, trying to find the opening where your head was supposed to go. Once you do, you leaned down slightly and threw it on before securing it in place using a hair pin. You patted down the veil, especially the back side of it where you couldn't see, not wanting any of the fabric to fold or stick out.

Lowering your hand, you focused on getting back, your feet light with each step. You felt at ease, the boulder weighing on your heart there no more. Knowing that it was just going to be you and Zephyr for the rest of the morning and early afternoon, it relieved you. Just time for some last minute rehearsals and then rest. No more queens and princes-

"Messiah."

You froze in place and your blood ran cold. The tranquility beforehand vanishing into thin air and in its place, an agonising dread. Your heart pounded. Your anxiety spiked. Your muscles tensed as your mind went blank. Consumed by an all-devouring fear, you stood still in the middle of the hallway, unable to run from certain 'death'.

Footsteps thumped closer. You squeezed your eyes shut and clenched your fists, bracing yourself for what's to come.

You turned.

"Your highness?"

It was a miracle how your voice didn't crack.

Xion strode over, the same deadpan expression on his angular face. His boots clicking softly against the carpeted floor.

"I thought you left, your highness. Is there something else you have to take care of here?" You mustered all of your courage and spoke, trying to sound calm and composed but your voice still gave you away, wavering during the sentence.

Crap.

You cursed internally.

Steady thyself, lamb. This is thy chance to persuade this apostate.

Calerus' voice rumbled from deep within your mind again.

Your eyebrows twitched.

Persuade? What does that mean??

No response from the deity.

"..."

The people around you seemed to have a tendency of ignoring you. Xion, similar to Calerus, remained silent, not bothering to answer your question.

He got closer and closer until he was directly in front of you before...

Walking past.

You knitted your eyebrows in confusion before moving to turn to him.

"Your highne-"

"Don't move."

Every muscle in your body obeyed.

You stared ahead of you, frozen in place as Xion went around to your back.

His presence sent shivers down your spine as he stood behind you. Even with your back turned, you could feel him staring you down. It felt like daggers going straight into your head, making you feel numb and afraid.

You felt his breath hit your nape as your veil is gently lifted by him. It was warm, surprisingly. Considering his icy nature, you thought even his breath would be cold.

"Y-your highness, what are you doing?" You couldn't hold back the voice crack this time. In a similar fashion, your question gets ignored once more.

A light touch and all your hairs stand on end. His hands brushed against your nape as he reached for you from behind.

Was this it? Was he going to choke you? Suffocate you right here and now?

You clenched your fists and gritted your teeth, the only movement you were able to do in your frozen state. Alarms blared inside your mind, urging you to make a break for it, to run as far away as possible from the danger but something stopped you from doing so. Was it paralyzing fear? Or something more...divine?

You twitched. Sensation finally coming back to your limbs. The muscles in your legs tensed and contracted, ready to start sprinting any moment now.

You took a step forward.

And Xion put down his hands.

"..."

"..."

You took a deep breath and slowly...very slowly glanced behind you. Xion still had that deadpan look on his face as he stared at you. His ruby eyes shone like gems under the light that flooded in from the nearby window.

You tried to talk, to ask what all that was about but words fail you. Only shaky exhales come out when you open your mouth, a sign of the fear that still grasped you.

Xion looked on silently. You watched him, searching his face for any microexpression that could reveal what he was thinking or why he did what he did.

...A frown.

It was quick. Unnoticeable if you hadn't been paying attention. A small dip in the corners of his lips before it was gone and his mouth began to move.

"You’re staring, Messiah." Xion's voice snapped you out of it.

You immediately adverted your eyes as you tried to salvage the situation.

"Ah, I'm terribly sorry, your highness." You bowed and said quickly. "I didn't mean to. I was just....confused! About what you just did...?" You ended your sentence in a question. Unintentional but perhaps necessary since you didn't know if he even did anything to you.

Another brief silence. However, this time, the prince seemed gracious enough to answer your question.

"Your button was undone." Xion pointed out.

You blinked.

My button....?

Then a thought occured to you and you reached behind your back. There, at the opening for your head, just below your nape, you felt a little button that you had managed to miss when you were putting on the dress.

"I saw it before you put on your veil." Xion was being extra talkative right now, having just said two sentences back to back.

"I see. How did I miss that....Thank you, your highness." You smiled in embarrassment. The tension in your shoulders dissipated as you heaved a silent sigh of relief. Glad to know he wasn't planning on hurting you or anything of the sorts. You weren't sure why he was still here in the first place despite already excusing himself but then again, you're not familiar with the palace's layout so maybe there's something at the other end of this hallway or maybe even beyond it. It was hard to say.

"If nothing else, your highness, please excuse me. I need to get back to the ballroom." You quickly bowed and stepped aside, eager to leave and get away from him.

"Please wait, Messiah."

Xion's arm appeared before you, stopping you in your tracks.

?

You glanced at him in confusion.

What now...?

Xion was quiet as he stared at you and that's when you notice something swirling in his eyes. Something that wasn't there before. It wasn't devoid of emotions like earlier. You could see...

Caution.

He seemed...cautious of you.

But that doesn't make sense. Why would he be cautious of me?

Before your thoughts could go further, the prince opened his mouth. "Why were you staring at me?" He took a step towards you.

Your eyes widen in surprise, not expecting a question, much less a confrontation from him. "S-sorry?" You stuttered in response, your mind still in denial of what he was referring to, too afraid to accept the fact that he may have noticed.

"Back when you were having tea with the Queen. I noticed you looking at me. May I know why?" His voice was low and cold. He had asked a question but you knew that that didn't mean he gave you a choice.

You swallowed nervously as you looked up at him. You tried to think of a reason to excuse your suspicious behaviour. There was no way you could tell him the literal god this kingdom worships told you to be weary of him. You weren't even sure how he found out in the first place. You made sure to be discreet about it and you wore your veil to cover your eyes from view. The chances of catching you watching him were low and yet...

"..." You opened and closed your mouth, no words finding their way up your throat.

Crap, I'm blanking.

"Messiah..." Xion muttered under his breath and suddenly, his face appeared inches away from yours. His blood red eyes seemed to pierce through your veil as he gazed directly at you.

You instinctively took a step back in fear.

Bad move.

Noticing your retreat, Xion advanced towards you, making you back up until you finally neared the wall.

You gasped as you bumped into a vase placed beside the wall. Your hand shot towards the tall vase, grabbing it and stopping it from toppling over. It was heavy, having been filled with dirt to nurture the greenery planted within it. You gripped onto it hard, trying desperately to steady the wobbling vase.

Before you could even recover from the panic of almost breaking the royal family's belonging, Xion's hand slammed the wall beside him.

Bang!

You jumped, you feet accidentally kicking the vase. The vase slipped from your hands and came crashing down to the floor.

You winced as the vase shattered into pieces, the sound akin to a jab to your eardrums as you cringed. The dirt poured out and the plant laid on the floor, its roots exposed with the shards of the broken vase around it.

Your heart pounded against your ribcage, panic rising inside you. You held back the urge to curse as you swallowed, looking at the mess you created.

"Why were you staring at me, Messiah?" Your heart nearly jumped out from your chest when Xion whispered into your ear, his hot breath uncomfortably fanning it.

"..."

whatdoidowhatdoisaynonononononoidontwanttodiepleasegodsavemesomeonesavemezephyrcalerushelpidontwanttodieiwanttogohomeletmeleavedontkillmepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease

I don't want to die.

"Messiah-ilikeyoursuit." Xion raised an eyebrow at your mumbling.

"Pardon?" "I like your suit." You repeated, your gaze still cast downwards at the ground.

Xion knitted his eyebrows.

"What does that mean?" He sounded skeptical.

"..." You were quiet and Xion was about to press you again when you let out a string of sentences, bombarding him with information.

"I think it's nice. I like the design. I like the style. The colour matches you. It looks good on you. It makes you look cool. I'd like something similar for myself." You blurted out in rapid succession.

Your mind had gone into autopilot mode when the fear overwhelmed all your senses, making you spew out random nonsense. You wanted to kick yourself for saying something so dumb but to your surprise, it seemed to have worked in your favour.

"..." Xion stared at you incredulously, his mouth slightly agaped.

He suddenly backed away, his hand on the wall returning to his side as he narrowed his eyes at you. You stared back silently, your mind still recovering from the intense moment beforehand. You breathed shakily as you waited for him to make his next move.

"..."

"..."

None of you said anything.

It wasn't a hard conclusion to make that the prince of Ebreau was a man of few words. Ever since your meeting this morning, he had been quiet, silently observing and listening from the sidelines as you interacted with other people in the palace. Even when he did talk, it was only a few short sentences. He was reserved but never at a lost for words.

However, for once, he seemed speechless.

For once, you could garner something from his expression. He was thinking. So very clearly thinking. He was considering what course of action to take.

You prayed he would consider letting you off the hook.

The prince looked away briefly before meeting your eyes once more...

A small smirk spreading across his lips.

Blood drained from your face.

"You are...quite humourous, Messiah." Xion scoffed as he shook his head. "Unfortunately, this uniform was custom made for me and me only so you can't get one yourself." He explained coldly before turning away.

"I wish you a good afternoon, Messiah. I await your performance tonight." With a few short sentences, he was gone again, leaving you alone in the hallway with your thoughts and the thumping of your heart in your chest.

You watched as his silhouette got smaller and smaller down the hallway before finally disappearing. You clenched your fists by your side.

Xion...

Just what are you planning?

Another voice rang in you head alongside yours.

"Well done, lamb."

~✟~

You flopped down on the comfy bed, your legs hung over the edge as you sighed.

This was it. The ceremony was just another 2 hours or so away. The sun dipped below the horizon outside the window of the guest room, dying the evening sky orange. Your last practice session had gone well with you doing the entire dance while in full ceremonial attire.

Your hands reached up to rub your eyes before blinking multiple times in quick succession to get the exhaustion out of them. Looking through your veil put a lot of strain on your eyes. The pixelated world seen from within your veil made your eyes constantly work overtime just to ensure you could see everything around you and make correct judgements in situations. Times like these when you didn't have it on were a blessing for your eyes, like a long awaited and very overdued vacation from their job.

You turned your head towards the clothing rack beside the dresser. Your ceremonial robe hung neatly on a hanger and beside it, your new modified veil. The veil was made shorter in front, covering only until just above your lips and long in the back like usual. Golden brown tassels were sewn on at the ends of the veil, both front and back to add some weight to the fabric.

Zephyr really was a life saver. You're not sure how or where he managed to get a tailor to accept such a sudden commission but somehow he did and you're grateful he returned with a much more practical veil for dancing. It made the dance that much easier now that you weren't constantly struggling to just breathe.

You were escorted out of the ballroom at around 3 in the afternoon. The workers in the palace had to get the last bit of the decorations set up and preparations done before guests arrived so you needed to get out of there around then or else you'd risk making their job harder. It was about time you get some rest too before your big night so you complied without much thought.

And thus, you have been spending the past hour or so fretting over the ceremony tonight. This was a big deal and no matter how much preparation you've done, it just didn't feel enough.

Maybe your footwork could use some more polishing or maybe your arms needn't be so stiff or maybe you could smile a bit more or maybe-

"Ugghhhh!" You huffed out loud in frustration as your hands went to your face. This was so nerve-wrecking.

Can I just bail tonight? I'm sure Zephyr can help me come up with an excuse.

You looked towards the opened window, peeping through the gaps between your fingers. Perhaps you could jump out? The entrance gate is just across the palace garden. Wait, no. You're on the 3rd level. You'd die if you vaulted out of here.

A soft breeze blew through the window, fluttering the curtains as another idea popped into your head.

Maybe I could tie together the curtains to make a rope, do this the Hollywood way. Ah, but it won't be long enough... Oh, oh! Maybe I could use the bed sheets and carpet and-

Your grand escape plan was suddenly interrupted by a knocking on the door.

That must be the maid.

You got up from the bed. Marika had assigned a maid of hers to help with dressing you up for the ceremony tonight. Even if it was kinda redundant since you can dress yourself just fine and don't really need any make-up or hair styling (you were going to be wearing a veil so nobody would see it anyway), it wouldn't hurt to have someone do it for you while you did some final mental preparation for later.

Your hand reached for the door and pulled it open.

"Hello, Messiah."

The girl's silky voice greeted your ears as the top of her head came into view the moment you swung open the door. Her black bangs hung over her eyes and framed the side of her face, obscuring her face from your gaze.

"Hello. Please come in." You greeted back and gestured for her to come in. The maid rose to a standing position but continued to keep her head low as she stepped into the room, her hands gripping a brown bag in front of her, which you assumed to contain the make-up she'll use.

She walked towards the dressing table and placed the bag on the surface before standing aside, head still bowed as she stood in wait for you to sit down. You quickly shut the door and scurried over, taking a seat at the dressing table.

The maid reached into her bag before circling around to your back and began to comb your hair using a brush, getting all the knots out. After that, she took out a small bottle and sprayed some of the liquid inside onto her hand before rubbing it into your hair. The sweet fragrance wafted from behind you and into your nostrils.

Lavender.

You played with your fingers as you sat still, letting the maid do her work. No words were exchanged between the two of you. Out of boredom and perhaps some curiousity, you decided to start a conversation.

"What's your name by the way?" You looked at her reflection behind you in the mirror. She was looking down, focusing on your hair as she began styling it. Her hands worked diligently, twisting and tying your strands.

She paused, not expecting you to strike up a conversation.

"...I'm Erna."

She replied softly, her gaze still casted downwards.

Silence fell over you two again as the conversation ended as soon as it started.

"..."

"..."

She's so quiet.

You felt her continuing to do your hair, making no effort to carry on with the conversation. You sighed quietly as you hung your head, ultimately deciding to just keep to yourself and let her work in silence.

What's Zephyr doing right now...?

Your thought drifted to the saint as you tried to find something to ponder about. It's rare that he's not with you right now. Wherever you went, he always seemed to be by your side and ready to assist you in any way he can. In fact, it was weirder now without him around.

He will be attending tonight's ceremony too, right?

He probably will. Unless there's something he has to attend to in the background as the initiation proceeded, he'll watch...hopefully.

You really hope he does. You can't promise you'll do well during the dance. Heck, you can't even guarantee you won't collapse from the sheer stress. You needed him to save you if the worse came to pass, save you from the embarrassment and/or potential concussion.

Crap, I really don't want to do this...

You fidgeted nervously in your seat, rubbing your hands together as you suppressed the nausea bubbling inside. You took a deep breath.

In and out. In and out. In-

Your thoughts were cut short when you suddenly felt a breath hit your neck. Instinctively, you turned your head and you jumped in your seat at the foreign face in front of you.

Erna's green eyes stared into your golden ones, stoic and cold was her gaze as she breathed down your neck.

!!!

You wanted to ask what she was doing but before any words left your mouth, you saw the blood drain from Erna's face and she suddenly collapsed onto the floor, screaming hysterically.

"AAAHHHHHH! NO! NO!" Erna's voice pierced through the silence, her hands on her face, grasping at her eyes almost like trying to gauge them out.

"T-there's no way! It can't be! NO!" The girl continued to babbled on. She was shaking, her entire body convulsing beside you on the floor. You were in shock but it didn't take long before your body leapt into action on its own, jumping out of your seat and kneeling down on the floor beside the (you assumed) fear-striken girl.

"Erna, what's-I'M SORRY! I'M SO SORRY!" You reached for her shoulder, wanting to comfort her and understand what the heck was going on but before you even made contact, Erna pressed her head to the ground as she screamed out apologies. Her sobs were clear as she took pauses between her words, breathing heavily in before choking out her sentences once more. As it went on, her yelling began more and more incoherent and her words muddled until unintelligible.

"Erna...!" You tried to snap her out of it, raising your voice, hoping she would stop. However, to your dismay, it seemed to trigger her even more as her sobs quickly became desperate cries.

"I'M SORRY! PLEASE FORGIVE ME! I DIDNT KNOW! I WAS MISLED! PLEASE FORGIVE ME! IM SORRY! I WAS WRONG!" The girl screamed her heart out as she continued to cry. Her nails digging into the carpet below her, causing her knuckles to turn white.

Thump, thump, thump!

Footsteps echoed from outside the doors, coming down the corridor and getting closer to your room. The commotion in here must have caught someone's attention.

You continued to try and calm Erna down from this sudden mental breakdown but to no avail. Anything you do, no matter how big or small, it always seemed to have the opposite effect of what you wanted. Erna continued to cry out, her voice becoming hoarse and raspy from the strain she put on it.

"I'M SORRY! PLEASE! I'M SORRY! I'M SORRY...CALERU-What's going on in here!?" A guard bursted through the doors. His eyebrows knitted and his arms tensed, ready to strike any perpetrator on sight.

"I-I don't know! She just suddenly started screaming!" You tried to explain despite also being in shock at the situation. The guard looked at the curled up Erna on the floor before at you. You braced yourself, knowing how bad this looked. Two people in one room, the only exit and entry points being a door leading to a corridor that is guarded and a window that is 3 stories up, the logical conclusion that everyone would jump to is pretty cut and dry.

However, you didn't hear any "Hands where I can see them!" or "Back away from the girl!" or any other aggressive commands from the guard. The moment you two locked eyes, the guard froze, his eyes going wide just how like Erna's did moments ago but instead of falling down and screaming his head off, he just stood at the doorway, one hand over his mouth as he stared incredulously at you.

Oh no, what now?!?

You panicked. The intense gaze of the guard that seemed to bore into your soul paired with ear piercing screams of Erna were overloading your senses. Your heart raced inside of your chest, the sheer absurdity of the situation was making you blank once more. What should you do? What could you do?

Sweat beaded down your forehead as you contemplated what to do.

I...I...?!

Your train of thought was suddenly cut short as you were pulled onto your feet abruptly. Hands tugged at your upper arms as they hoisted you up, even making you stumble in the process from the sheer speed and force. Before you even recovered, you felt a warmth embrace you as the hands wrapped around your body. One of the hands even pressing your head against the soft fabric of its owner's clothes.

"Are you alright, Lady (y/n)?"

!

You craned your head up as you heard the all too familiar voice. The concerned face of the kingdom's beloved saint stared down at you, his eyebrows knitted gently and his lips turned downwards into a small frown as he held you close.

Saved!

You cheered internally as you buried your head into Zephyr's chest. Your hands shakily reached up and wrapped around him, returning the embrace as your fingers gripped onto the back of his robes for solace. The scent of Zephyr's hair wafted into your nostrils, calming your mind and slowing your pounding heart.

"Sir, please take this maid to get help. I'll stay with the Messiah and help her get ready." Zephyr said to what you assumed to be the guard at the door.

"I..y-yes, of course, Saint Zephyr." Footsteps came into the room and you heard some shuffling before shortly after, the footsteps led out again. Erna's crying still rang clear in your ears but they grew softer and softer as the the sound of soles clacking against the ground got further and further away before finally...

Silence.

"..."

Zephyr sighed.

You felt his hand gently caressing your head as he whispered.

"Let's get you ready, Lady (y/n)."

You nodded slowly against his chest.

You felt safe.

Zephyr was here.

There was nothing to be afraid anymore.

~✟~

The chatter of hundreds of guests came from within the ballroom, their voices muffled by the closed wooden door before you as you stood in wait for your time to enter. Beyond the closed doors, you could hear the clinking of champagne glasses, the sound of joyous laughter and the beautiful pieces of music performed by the orchestra the palace had hired. It was lively inside with every guest present eagerly awaiting the main attraction of this evening's ball.

You took a deep breath and exhaled.

The time was nigh.

You cracked your neck and rolled your shoulders, getting the tension out and helping you relax before your big performance. This was no time for stiff bones after all. As if on cue, you heard Queen Marika's voice boomed from beyond the door and you immediately straightened your back.

"Welcome, children of Ebreau. It is a wonderful night this evening for we shall be witnessing a monumental moment in our kingdom's long history..." The Queen gave her speech but you toned it out midway through (Sorry, Marika.). You did one final recall as you reconfirmed all of your dance steps and positions for each of them.

This is it. This is it.

You felt like you were gonna pass out with all the blood rushing to your head from the anxiety of everything but you couldn't deny you felt a tinge of...happiness and pride. With this ceremony, you would be officially heralded as Ebreau's Messiah and be one of the people who would lead it. You're not sure if this strong feeling of love for this nation that you didn't even originate from, heck, this nation that you didn't even want to live in in the first place, was false or not but you knew for a fact that you wanted to help it. Maybe you were being brainwashed by Calerus to love Ebreau so you'll sacrifice yourself for it or maybe you've just developed a saviour complex after being treated as such, you're not entirely sure. You just know that you want to make Ebreau better. You want to make the lives of the folks here better. You want to help Zephyr. Especially after all he's done for you. He gave you his all and you will do the same,

You must do the same.

"Do not let thyself be shackled by deeds of the past, lamb."

!

No matter how many times this has happened, you don't think you could ever get used to Calerus suddenly speaking to you out of nowhere.

"Intentions determine the nature of a deed, not the action itself."

You knitted your eyebrows.

Where did that come from?

You weren't not sure why Calerus decided to randomly give you a life lesson before your initiation. You wanted to ask for his reasoning but you held back. Based on past experiences, you know he won't reply anyway so you just kept it in mind for now. You can ponder about it later.

"...now, let us celebrate the coming of our prophesied Messiah!"

"That was your cue, Messiah." A pair of hands suddenly fell on your shoulders as Marika concluded her speech. You jolted in surprise as you turned your head back and were met face to face with red eyes.

Xion?!

The prince towered over you as he stared down intensely at you, seemingly searching for your eyes behind the cover of your veil. His breath fanned your face as he continued.

"Good luck."

Xion stepped back, leaving you confused in place. Why was he here? Shouldn't he also be in the ballroom right now? And why was he...

Smiling?

A chill went down your spine at the sight of Xion's lips curling ever so slightly upwards.

You had so many question you wanted to ask but in a similar fashion, they went unvoiced and unheard for the moment you opened your mouth, the doors to the ballroom creaked open and...

A hand pushed you in from behind.

~✟~

You stood in front of Marika. She was seated in her throne beside the king's which was left unoccupied. She smiled early at you as she nodded, acknowledging your presence.

"..."

You reminded quiet. Talking wasn't part of your initiation procedure. The walk to the thrones from the ballroom's entrance was a long one, made longer by the scrutinising gaze and hushed whispers of judgement from the attending guests. From the way their gaze would flicker back and forth from you and how they tried to hide their mouth when they spoke, it wasn't hard to surmise what they were doing.

You tried to ignore them.

Just do your part.

You bowed your head and curtsied slowly, paying your respects ot the queen. Picking up the sides of your dress and bending your knees, you held that position as you waited for the music yo start and for your cue to begin your performance.

Here goes nothing.

The first notes of the piece. Slow and melancholy, the piano sounded out.

You rose from your curtsy, unhurried and measured. Your head remained bowed, looking down at the ground before tilting it slowly to the side and then back up, facing forward once more.

Violins. Questly weaving themselves into the melody, accompanying the lone piano.

You lifted your right arm to your chest before turning to face the guests, stretching out your lifted arm as you did so, letting it lead your movements.

You returned your arm back to to its place before again, you bent your knees and curtsied in the direction of the guests.

The duet of the piano and violins softly faded out as they held the last note of the bar.

You rose from your curtsy one last time, counting the resting beats in your heart.

...6...7...8.

8 resting beats and then you jumped into action. Literally.

You hopped in place before doing a chassé forward and into first arabesque. Closing your feet back together, you followed the tune of the flutes as it carried you through your pas de valse, your eyes following the movement of your hands just as Zephyr had instructed you during practice.

The harmony of the music accompanied you as you glided across the floor, spinning with control and grace. Your heart thumped loudly in your ears and blood rushed to your face, both from the dancing and nervousness. You tried your best to stay calm as you performed an assemblé before slowly rising from the plié.

The music swelled as it slowly began to reach its climax.

Just a little more...

Another spin before you swung your arms up from your sides to beside your head as you lifted your gaze up towards the ceiling. The crystal chandelier dazzled brightly in the air almost as if it was a star in the night sky. If you were outside right now, you would be looking at the sky, perhaps even into the eyes of The Prosperous Lord himself. Maybe that was the point of this move. To lock eyes with the god of this kingdom and swear eternal servitude to him. Who truly knows?

A slight slow in the music and you dropped into a deep curtsy, arms resting at your sides as your head bowed in unspoken submission. The last note rang, low and long as tension permeated through the ballroom.

"..."

You held your breath as you stayed in your position.

Did...I mess up?

You swallowed nervously as the silence in the room nearly deafened you.

Then, a clap came from behind you. Followed by another to your side and among the audience. Slowly, more guests followed along and it wasn't long before the ballroom erupted into a thunderous applause.

You physically felt all the tension leave your body as you breathed a sigh of relief before standing back up.

I did it...it's done. It's finally done!

You couldn't help the smile that made it's way onto your face. All of your hardwork paid off! It didn't go to waste! You...you did it!

You were still high on the glory when Marika interrupted your celebration. "That was a beautiful performance, Messiah." She smiled at you as you turned to face her. "Thank you for your hardwork and here's to a fruitful collaboration in the futur-"

You were suddenly pulled onto the ground.

"Ahh!!" You screamed as you collided with the floor-

Wait, no.

Someone's chest.

You slid across the floor with the person beneathe you, shielding you from impact. Gasps and shouts of terror came from the audience around you as the two of you finally came to a stop on the floor.

You looked back at your original position. An arrow was lodged into the ground. Its tip buried into the now broken floor.

What on earth...?

You furrowed your eyebrows as confusion washed over you.

Realisation came late but only because you refused to acknowleged the truth.

Someone wanted to assassinate you.

Your breath hitched in your throat. If this person didn't pull you aside...

That might have been it for you.

The person beneathe you shifted, slowly sitting up as they continue to hold you close.

You finally turned your gaze back to your saviour, wanting to thank them. However, the words got caught in your throat as you locked eyes with them and realised who it was.

Ocril?!

The person who saved you just now....was your ex-boss?????

He's the captain of the Ordo and likely the one who gave the green light to allow you to work as the Ordo's errand girl. The few years you've been there, you've rarely ever seen him, let allow talk to him. He was at the pinnacle of the hierarchy while you were at rock bottom. There were never any situations where your paths would have crossed.

Though from what you heard from the other guards, he's a rather quiet person, distant even but not cold. He'll never refuse to help someone in need even if he may seem a bit apathetic.

This information has always been word of mouth so you were never able to confirm nor deny it but looking at the black haired man in front of you now, you saw the protectiveness behind his blue eyes as he hid you behind his back.

His gaze narrowed as he glared at a slightly opened window high on the wall, a glint of rage swirling in his eyes.

"Are you alright, Messiah?"

Ocril asked, eyes still glued to the high window.

"I-yes. T-thank you for saving me." You replied, still flustered and shocked by the current situation.

The captain glanced back at you briefly before standing up, his hand on the hilt of his sword fastened to his side.

"Guards!" Queen Marika shouted, standing up from her throne before rushing over to you. At the same time, another familiar voice called for you from behind.

"Lady (y/n)!" You felt Zephyr's arms wrapped around you as he hugged you tightly. "Are you alright?" Zephyr asked frantically. He seemed out of breath, probably from running over due to the commotion started.

"I'm okay." You nodded, reassuring Zephyr as you pushed yourself back onto your feet. Queen Marika arrived too as she helped you up despite your protests.

You felt Ocril's gaze on you the whole time, glancing back at you silently. If he had something to say to you, he never did.

Your disorientation was short-lived as your attention was immediately drawn back by the terrified screams of the guests in the ballroom. To your horror, masked figures began jumping down from the windows, weapons in hand. Some held bows, others held daggers as they landed on the floor of the ballroom.

Chaos ensued immediately.

The guests made mad dashes towards the doors, all wanting to escape before things got bloody or worse, before their lives were targeted. Royal guards were quick to crowd around you and your little group, swords drawn and ready to defend three of the most important figures in Ebreau.

The intruders began their attack. The archers stayed at the back as they aimed to thin out the defense and divert the focus of the surrounding guards, hoping to give an opening to their allies who held daggers to go in for the kill.

Cling!

Ocril deflected an arrow coming towards him with his sword. More royal guards came into the ballroom as they joined in to fend off the attackers. Metal clashed together as the guards around you swung at the enclosing figures but was blocked by the attackers' own weapons. The sharp sound pierced your eardrums, making your ears ring uncomfortably.

Zephyr held you close. His hand grasping yours in a death grip, afraid you'll get separated from him. Queen Marika gritted her teeth and knitted her eyebrows beside you. Her usually soft features hardening as she watched the onslaughts, mind racing with how to resolve this situation.

The guests continued to flee, their shoes clanking loudly against the floor as they tried to escape. However, they were not spared the fury of the intruders. Some of the hooded figures went after them, dragging them back into the ballroom and hurting them as they refused cooperation. Royal guards came to the rescue but not before the attackers had already injured them, splattering their blood on the marble floor.

You squeezed your eyes shut as you held back a gag, terrified by the sight.

"Lady (y/n)!"

Zephyr yanked you back by the hand, just in time as a knife swung at you but missed by an inch. Your eyes widened as you narrowly escaped potential death (or potential disfigurement).

You didn't even get the chance to thank Zephyr for saving you when he, himself came under attack. One of the hooded figures had broken through the guards' defense and swung their dagger at Zephyr. Fast on his feet, Zephyr dodged the attack, sidestepping the figure before swiftly kicking them in the back of their knees, causing them to fall and drop their dagger. He kicked the dagger away before the figure had a chance to pick it back up.

!!

You couldn't help but be amazed. You didn't know Zephyr had moves like that.

The guards' defenses were strong but not impenetrable. Openings for a breakthrough were small and rare but the attackers took every opportunity. With enough tries, 2 of them managed to breach the line of guards and came towards you and Queen Marika.

They swung as you both dodged, though each with varying degree of ease. In a flash, Queen Marika's hand shot towards one of assailant's wrist, grabbing on tightly and stopping them from attacking before promptly disarming them with her other hand.

!!!

Did everyone here know self defense except for you?!??!

Another attacker broke through the defense and went for Zephyr. Left to your own devices, you raised your arms in front of you out of pure instinct as you desperately tried to protect yourself.

The hooded figure was relentless in their attack, swinging and slashing at you nonstop, leaving you with no choice but to keep backing away.

You felt something pierce the skin on your forearm before a sharp stinging pain began to spread from there.

You hissed in pain as your held your forearm, feeling warm blood oozing out of the cut and staining your sleeve. While you were distracted by the pain, the assailant took advantage of the moment and swung down at you.

You were running high on adrenaline, your instincts to survive going into overdrive mode as you grabbed their hand without even thinking, hoping to stop them from hurting you. Good news, it worked. Bad news, they retracted their hand before swinging again immediately and this time, you didn't have the chance to block.

Your attacker slashed upwards at your face. You tried to pull your head back from the blade but before you even knew what was happening, your veil had been slashed apart from the bottom near your lips up to your left eyebrow.

"Ah!"

You cried out in pain as your hands went to your face, feeling the same warmth and wetness from earlier dripping down your cheek and staining your fingers.

Blood.

You weren't sure where the wound was. Was it just around your eye or was your left eye now permanently messed up. You didn't know. The pain was agonising as you groaned and began to tear up from it.

This was messed up. Why was this happening?

What have you ever done to them to deserve this kind of treatment?

Who even were these people?

Why you?

Why the guests?

Why did they hurt everyone?

The figure raised their dagger high, aiming the point at your head.

"DIE!"

They plunged the dagger down to deal the final blow.

"!!!"

The dagger stopped in midair as the attacker froze.

You glared at the figure through the gaps between your fingers, teeth gritted and eyebrows knitted. Your blood dripped from your hand as you slowly staggered towards them.

You weren't thinking clearly. Your rationality having completely been thrown out the window as your emotions took over. A lump formed in your throat as you stifled the urge to scream and lash out. Your hands were shaking but not from fear.

You shook from pure, unadulterated rage.

These uninvited intruders dared to barge in and ruin your initiation that you prepared months for before proceeding to attack anyone and everyone on sight, not even sparing the innocent guests.

Perhaps if it had been just you who was targeted, you wouldn't have been so furious.

Perhaps you would have understood where they were coming from if no one else was hurted.

Perhaps you-

No.

Perhaps these people don't deserve your mercy.

Whatever grudge they had with you, however deep their hatred for you ran, it was no accuse to come for your neck. It was no accuse to jump the peace talks and resort to violence. It was no accuse to hurt others, innocent or not.

There was no accuse.

You raised your hand, curling your fingers into a fist.

I will cleanse this nation of its filth until only the beautiful remains. And until the garden of Eden appears once more, I will not stop, for the foundation of this paradise...

You swung your fist.

"Will be the blood of your kind."

You punched the figure in the face.

"Ack!"

You heard the figure gasped before falling to the ground.

"..."

Your senses came back to you as the rush of adrenaline passed. You backed away quickly, putting as much distance between you two as fast as you can before they can recover and attack again.

Your heart thumped loudly in your ears as you saw the figure pushed themselves onto their knees, one hand holding their face.

Suddenly, an arm appeared before you. You looked up and saw...Ocril. He shielded you behind him as he watched the figure scrambling on the ground in front of you, sword at the ready to defend you in his other hand should the figure attack again.

However, that seemed unnecessary.

The figure pressed their head to the ground as they started screaming.

"FORGIVE ME! I'M SORRY! PLEASE HAVE MERCY! HAVE MERCY!"

Everyone stopped and looked at the figure on the ground, including the other intruders. The figure continued to scream and you could hear the start of a nervous breakdown in their voice.

"I DIDNT KNOW! I WAS FOOLISH! FORGIVE ME! FORGIVE ME! MY LORD, PLEASE HAVE MERCY!"

Everyone stared on dumbfounded. The other intruders being especially confused by their ally's behaviour.

Another one of the hooded figures broke through the defenses of the guards and came to their ally's side.

You couldn't hear what they whispered to the other but you doubt they said much as they were immediately pushed to the ground by their ally.

The figure continued screaming and this time, you could tell they were crying.

"CALERUS, WE'RE SORRY FOR DOUBTING YOUR WILL! HAVE MERCY ON US! I BEG OF YOU! WE'RE SORRY!! HAVE MERCY!"

The figure's companion looked at them quizzically.

The stalemate between the guards and intruders was quickly broken soon after when a group of guards tackled some distracted figures and pinned them to the ground. The fight resumed but this time, the intruders seemed to be backing off.

The two figures in front of you scrambled to their feet(well, more like one of them dragged the other onto their feet) as they tried to fight their way out this time around. Ocril gave chase, leaving you in your place after a brief glance back at you to make sure you're alright.

Immediately after Ocril left, Zephyr rushed back to your side.

"(Y/N)!"

He hugged you tightly before noticing the blood on your face and gasping in horror.

"You're hurt! And what happened to your veil?!" Zephyr asked frantically as he held your face in his hands. He wiped some of the blood off your face with his fingers as he began to apologise profusely, "I'm sorry i didn't protect you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

As cold as this may seem, you couldn't help but wonder what was up with people apologising over and over again to you today. Zephyr was already the third one within the last 24 hours.

Looking up at him, you noticed tears beginning to form in his eyes. In a daze, you reached up and wiped his tears away with your sleeve. "You tried your best. I understand, Zephyr." you mumbled softly to him.

That seemed to have the opposite effect on Zephyr as more tears welled up in his eyes. He pulled you close and clung to you tightly, wrapping his arms around you as he silently cried. You felt his tears wetting your shoulder as he buried his face there.

You returned his hug and patted his back as you waited for him to calm down.

Zephyr must have been worried sick about you...

After a while, Zephyr reluctantly pulled away, breaking the hug. However, he still clung to your hand as he began to recompose himself.

The ballroom was a mess.

Although the intruders had already either fled or been captured, damage had still been done. Some unlucky guests who were targeted by the figures sat to the side of the ballroom as guards tended to their wounds, their sobs loud enough to be heard from the other side of the room. The floor was splattered with blood, belonging to both attacking intruders and defending guards alike. Swords and arrows laid scattered and broken on the ground, a stark reminder of what just transpired.

"..."

You couldn't believe this had happened.

"(Y/n)."

You weren't given much time to wallow in despair at the devastating events that just happened. Queen Marika snapped you out of your thoughts as she approached you. You noticed a small cut on her upper arm but besides from that, she seemed unscathed. "Marika, are you alright?" You nevertheless asked out of formality.

The queen nodded before replying, "Yes. Thank you for asking especially when you seem to be in a worse state than me." She gave you a worried look, "I'll call for the royal physician to look at your wound. Hopefully it's nothing too serious..."

You nodded and thanked her for it. Before you were escorted away to have your injury checked and treated, Queen Marika began speaking again. "(Y/n), I know it's been a long night but...I must request that you extend your stay just a bit longer." You cocked your head to one side at her words. You thought you would be going back to the temple after this.

"May i know why?" you expressed your confusion.

Queen Marika sighed deeply as she looked down momentarily. "The situation...may be worse than I thought. I don't wish to push this burden onto you so soon but..." She trailed off.

"We must bring forward our meeting."

~✟~

I. Am. So. Sorry. This was supposed to go up months ago but life got busy and i got stuck at the final ballroom scene T-T Im sorry to everyone who waited so long for this chapter!!! but at least, this chapter is extra long compared to the previous ones so hopefully it will be enough satiate the hunger and quell the anger ^^;(jk) Glad i finally got it done though. been feeling really guilty about postponing this chapter for so long.

Thank you for reading and please tell me if you find any errors so i can correct them!

~

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[universalzones]

"Then perhaps we should focus to the inner workings of The Restoration and get all important data. I'm unsure what methods you use to store you data here, though I can only assume it's different from Data Crystals." In Sol the use of magic was much more common than in Mobius. "I'm sure there might be some sensitive data you'd rather not have G.U.N see, though deleting it might make The Restoration look bad." Blaze was sure they'd have someone who would notice data missing or deleted.

"I don't think The Restoration has anything data we wouldn't want G.U.N to see. Its not like we make weapons or anything as our main goal is protection and rebuilding. As for saving the data, Belle Bot has been hooked up to The Restoration servers for a minute so should already have everything of importance in her data banks." Belle knew The Restoration had nothing to hide.

"Then I say we just use up the entire hour just to use it up. Besides, something could come up and we'll have to adjust for it, though I can't see how anything else can get worse." Rowan doubts things could go any more south than they already have. "Anyway, guess I should start making some calls." The lemur then left the room.

"Just saying it isn't that bad, just, a tad bit uncomfortable is all." Thinking about it just saying it wasn't the worse thing as it's not like it'd be true. Belle could still hope they wouldn't have to and they'd just see her as a person with her own life to live. "I guess I should think about just what I want to say to the President. Um, did anyone get his name? I should address him formally." The tinkerer hoped things would go her way.

"I said that I'm fine. I just, need to figure out her plan, that's all." Kitsunami knew that none of the G.U.N members that were here could even slow Surge down so she must have a plan to get away. "We'll see Surge on our way out, so that's when I'll talk to her. I only have an hour to think." The fennec intended to sit alone and try to think of what the tenrec could be planning. She just HAS to be planning something, she has to be.

She was without a doubt very much worried about the current state of restoration. Between the damage done during the fall of the Zepplin, and the general chaos that Clutch caused it was weighing heavily on her mind. Worse she still hadn't seen Jewel since the zepplin, she knew she was with Vector and the others. Was she hurt? or maybe she was with the Civilains from the Airship. But she knew Blaze was right, they needed a place for those members outside the borders to gather up and await commands. They needed someone to direct them.

" Blaze is right, we need someplace that can offer our people outside a location to gather up and await orders. Someplace quiet and non-threatening. "

Her eyes turned to Rowan and nodded her head

" Rowan make your calls, see if you can get permission to gather in those areas. I'll see if i can find someone to take charge of our people in the meantime. "

Miles eyes turned to Belle as he could see she was conflicted. It was a difficult choice to make and not one he was overly keen on either. he'd never impose his will on Belle not for anything. There friendship was built on that understanding that she was her own person and, had her own autonomy. But she wouldn't be the first bot he'd have harbored, like this. It was why he signed Gmerl over to Vanilla to keep her safe and in a way they were a good influence on him. But Belle was just different, so much more advanced then they were at least mentally.

" I know how much you value your freedom Belle and i won't ever take that from you. But ... It might be your safest bet... Prower Industries is a leading tech developer it'd be easy for me to convince them you are one of my inventions. False or not... i can tie gun up in legal battles for years ... but--- All that said i'll leave that choice to you... i know the idea probably leaves a bad taste in your mouth so to speak... but the door is open if we need it "

Sonic took a moment to cross the room over to Kitsunami as he was sure it was a tough pill to swallow. He also knew how close they were and he didn't like dropping this on kitsunami and he was sure Surge would be pissed at him for it. But it had come out in the meeting and wasn't much he could do.

" Hey--- I know how you probably feel about me. I'm sure Surge would flip out knowing i said anything. But i think you need to hear it from her... I hate having said anything. I'm sure she'll kick me in the head for it later..."

He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck

" Why don't you go talk to her... i think right now you two should be together... and if we need ya we'll call ok? "

[brella-boi]

Okay guys this is becoming a tradition of me seeing films recently so heres a

Sonic 3 review from a technical standpoint

Look im no film critic or anything, but i AM an animator and theres a lot of. Things. I see whether I want to or not. Its just how my brain is wired because of my profession lol

(This is full of spoilers btw so now's your time to fast scroll away)

Anyway lets begin!

The movie is great. Cool even. I liked it! But theres a lot of direction decision that I am just. Baffled by I guess?

First of all- the models are different. (Httyd ass moment) And the way they sculpted the characters lips absolutely destroys anything theyre trying to emote. It looks like theyre CONSTANTLY pursing their lips. Like they ate a lemon. Do you understand? Sonic also has much more pronounced brows which makes him look more pissed off constantly LOL

[Sonic 1 model vs sonic 3 models, pay attention to the lips]

Eggman and Dr Stone had possibly the best interactions in the entire movie. Their dynamic was fantastic, and I would argue they kinda carried the movie. Unfortunately! The ending left their issues unresolved. And Dr Stone looked entirely unbothered by the possible death of Eggman.

This brings me to some writing choices that I feel may be due to... Either infantalising or time cuts. The storyboarding of this film was just. God how do I even describe this. It feels like a lot of crucial scenes where cherry picked to be deleted between shots. Thats not good at all- and while character continuity WAS there, it really did feel like something crucial was missing in some scenes. This is especially evident in the Chao Garden scenes. Specifically when the general dies (WHY DOES HE DIE LIKE THAT. WE DIDNT EVEN SEE THE RUBBLE GO ANYWHERE OR PIN ANYONE DOWN OR SEE MASS PANIC FOR PEOPLE TO DIE?) The characters COMPLETELY gloss over his death- a death that feels like its out of a show for 8 year olds Im not going to lie to you. He just flops, delivers a line, and thats it.

It feels like the two halves of the movie were written by two different writers.

The first half is weak. The jokes are stale. And the storybeats almost feel off. The actions scenes- while there's nothing particularly offendish about them- don't *hit*. If you're an animator or writer you understand that important beats need to pack a punch. It was severely lacking in packing punches in the first half.

I also wanna speak to the animators. Are you okay? Was this made on tight deadlines? Where is the fun and whimsy? Did you outsource this? Did you give your workers a good environment or were they crunching and hating life? Or did you hire younger animators with no senior feedback because they're cheaper to hire?

Look, the animation is good. Just that. Its good. Its TV show standard, not movie standard. Its lacking a good push to the poses, its using slow keyframing between poses instead of it being snappy, with good silhouettes, with good visual gags. Instead were left with this.. subpar passable animation for every character instead of something energetic and snappy like Sonics personality. I think this is where I take the most issue with because guys come on. You didnt push the models to their limits at ALL. And Sonics speedy running is... Well read my previous points. Where are the fundamentals of animation about exaggeration? Not in Sonics run cycle.

The second half of the movie carried the first half on its back thanks to Eggman. I am SO GLAD to see giant spaceships and mechs and whatnot. Thats great! Loved to see the lovely mech models and once again- interactions between Eggman and Dr Stone. Id go as far as say they should be gay tbh (hello? The scene where theyre tied up?)

I didn't bring up Shadow entirely so far. And honestly Ive no notes about him. All my notes are entirely about just the animation and not hitting the beats well. His characterisation was great- it actually explains his aggression pretty well and then redemption. Genuinely the last arc of the movie was fantastic. And finally we got to hear a rock score to go with it. Maria was fun, the flashbacks were fun, the scientific exploration was fun. All in the second half of the movie of course!

My overall score is 6/10.

To untrained eyes the movie is going to be extremely fun- if a little more childish in some parts than others. I'm glad they took some risky moments, I'm glad the characterisation is well written. I just wish other aspects were tightened down, mainly animation and storyboarding.

6/10 but I never thought Id leave the cinema with the thoughts "I could storyboard some of these scenes in a lot more meaningful way, and Im not even a storyboarder."

I recommend a watch! Its not a bad movie. Its not a rock-it-out-of-the-park movie either though. I feel like maybe all the anticipation and high expectations maybe made it not as gut punching for me as it couldve been. Overall, all I can gleam from it is theres a lot of things to improve on! But nothing that really destroys it or makes it bad. Just a lot of room for improvement.

Thanks for reading!

[mapis-putellas]

𝑨 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔 𝑴𝒚𝒍𝒆/𝑩.𝒎𝒆𝒂𝒅

Merry Christmas, happy holidays, happy Hanukkah, whatever you celebrate, or don’t, I hope you have a wonderful day. So much love to you all <3

The festive glow of the Christmas tree lit up the living room, its soft, multicoloured lights casting a warm, cozy atmosphere. But for you, the sight of the bare space beneath the tree where Beth’s present should have been only added to your growing frustration.

You paced back and forth, the familiar motion of your toes bouncing against the hardwood floor providing some relief from the tension knotting in your chest. There were presents for her family, small gifts for her teammates, and even a little something you’d bought for yourself. But Beth’s gift? The one thing you wanted more than anything to be perfect? Nothing.

Your hands fidgeted with the hem of her hoodie—your hoodie now, really—scrunching and releasing the fabric in quick bursts. You loved Beth with every fibre of your being, and the thought of not finding her the perfect gift sent your mind into a spiral of stress and self-doubt.

Every idea you’d had over the past few weeks had felt wrong. A book? Too impersonal. Jewellery? She never wore much. A new pair of boots? She had plenty. Each passing day only made your anxiety worse, and now, on Christmas Eve, the pressure was almost unbearable.

But then, like a lightbulb flickering on, you remembered something. Months ago, Beth had been scrolling through pictures of cocker spaniel puppies on her phone, her eyes lighting up as she showed you each one. “Imagine this little one bounding around the house,” she’d said, her excitement palpable. At the time, you hadn’t given it much thought. But now, the idea felt perfect.

A puppy.

It was bold, it was big, and it was everything she’d wanted.

Without wasting another moment, you threw on your coat, grabbed your bag, and left the house. The disruption to your routine sent an immediate jolt of discomfort through your body, but you pushed it aside. This was for Beth.

The day became a whirlwind. You spent hours driving to pick out the perfect little cocker spaniel, a lively golden puppy with big brown eyes that reminded you of Beth’s. At the same time, you stocked up on supplies—food, a crate, toys, a bed—all the essentials. By mid-afternoon, your car was stuffed, and the puppy sat beside you in a travel crate, its tiny tail wagging every time you looked over.

Leah had agreed to keep the puppy at her house overnight, understanding the importance of keeping it a surprise. You dropped everything off with her, carefully setting up the puppy’s temporary space and ensuring she had everything she needed. Leah promised to keep quiet, though you suspected she found the whole thing amusing.

What you didn’t realize, however, was how much time had passed.

When you finally checked your phone, you saw a string of missed calls and text messages from Beth.

Beth: Where are you?

Beth: You’ve been gone all day.

Beth: Are you okay?

Beth: Please tell me you’re alright.

Your heart sank. In your focus on getting everything done, you hadn’t thought to let her know where you were or what you were doing. Beth thrived on communication, and your silence had likely made her worry.

By the time you arrived home that evening, the lights in the house were dim, and the soft hum of the TV came from the living room. You stepped inside cautiously, shedding your coat and shoes, before making your way toward the sound.

Beth was curled up on the couch, her arms crossed over her chest, her expression a mixture of concern and frustration. She looked up when you entered, her eyes sharp.

“Where’ve you been?” she asked, her voice tinged with irritation. “I’ve been calling you all day.”

You hesitated, unsure how to respond. You’d never been good at lying, and even if you were, you didn’t want to lie to her. “I… I was out,” you said finally.

Beth raised an eyebrow. “Out? All day? Without even letting me know where you were going?”

“I didn’t mean to ignore you,” you said quickly, your fingers drumming against your thighs. “I just… I had something to do.”

Beth stood, her arms still crossed as she looked at you. “Something that was so important you couldn’t answer your phone? Or even send me a text?”

Her tone wasn’t harsh, but it was firm, and it made the tension in your chest tighten. You shifted on your feet, your toes bouncing lightly against the floor as your anxiety built.

“I’m sorry,” you said, your voice quieter now. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Beth sighed, running a hand through her blonde hair. “I was worried about you,” she admitted. “I didn’t know where you were, and then you just… didn’t answer.”

Your bouncing became more pronounced, your fingers tapping out a frantic rhythm. “I promise I had a reason,” you said, your words tumbling out quickly. “But I can’t tell you yet. Not until tomorrow. I’m sorry, Beth. I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

Beth’s expression softened at the sight of you, her frustration melting into concern. She stepped forward, pulling you into a tight hug.

The pressure of her embrace was grounding, steady, and you let yourself relax against her. Your hands instinctively found the back of her neck, your fingers grazing her skin as you began to stim with it, the softness calming you.

“I’m sorry,” you said again, your voice muffled against her shoulder.

Beth’s arms tightened around you, her chin resting on your shoulder as she held you close. “It’s okay,” she murmured. “Just don’t scare me like that again, yeah?”

You nodded, your fingers still tracing patterns on her neck. “I won’t. I promise.”

She pulled back just enough to look at you, her eyes searching yours. “You really can’t tell me what you were doing?”

You bit your lip, shaking your head. “Not yet.”

Beth sighed but smiled faintly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Alright. I’ll wait until tomorrow. But you owe me for the worry.”

You nodded again, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

Beth leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before pulling you back into her arms.

*

The house was silent, save for the faint hum of the heater kicking. The clock read just past five in the morning, and Beth was still fast asleep, her arm slung loosely over your waist. Her blonde hair was splayed across the pillow, her soft breathing filling the room in gentle, rhythmic intervals. Carefully, you slid out from under the duvet, doing your best not to disturb her. She stirred slightly, mumbling something unintelligible, but thankfully didn’t wake.

You moved quietly, grabbing your coat from the chair and stepping into your shoes by the door. You’d left everything you needed prepped the night before—the car keys, your wallet, and, most importantly, a handwritten note you placed carefully on her bedside table. The note was short but clear, just in case she woke before you returned: “Went out for a bit. Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon. Love you.”

The early morning air was crisp and biting as you made your way to the car. The streets were quiet, the kind of stillness that only came on Christmas morning when the world seemed to pause for a moment. The drive to Leah’s house felt longer than it actually was, your anxious bouncing making time stretch out. When you finally arrived, a tired looking Leah greeted you at the door, holding the squirming little bundle in her arms.

“She’s been good,” Leah said with a sleepy grin as she handed the puppy over to you. “A bit of whining last night, but nothing too bad.”

You nodded, feeling the little cocker spaniel’s warm body wriggle against your chest. She was even smaller than you remembered, her floppy ears framing her tiny face as she looked up at you with wide brown eyes. Your heart melted instantly.

“She’s perfect,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Leah handed you the rest of the supplies—the crate, the bag of food, and a few toys you’d left behind yesterday. She gave you a knowing look as she leaned against the doorframe. “Beth’s going to love her, you know.”

You shifted on your toes, bouncing slightly as the familiar twinge of nervous energy crept in. “I hope so,” you said, your voice a mix of excitement and worry. “What if I messed up? What if it’s too much?”

Leah laughed softly, shaking her head. “You didn’t mess up. Trust me, she’s been talking about getting a dog for months. You’ve absolutely nailed it.”

Her reassurance helped, but the nerves didn’t fully fade as you loaded everything into the car. The puppy settled in the travel crate in the passenger seat, her tiny head poking out as she curiously sniffed the air. You glanced at her every few seconds during the drive home, a small smile tugging at your lips despite your anxiety.

When you finally pulled into the driveway, the sun was just beginning to rise, casting a soft golden light over the house. You carried everything inside as quietly as possible, making multiple trips to get the crate, the bag of supplies, and the bundle of gifts you’d prepared and had been keeping in your car for the last month to stop prying eyes from seeing. The puppy stayed wrapped snugly in a soft blanket, her little nose poking out as she rested against your chest.

You set up the living room first, placing the crate and food bowl in a cozy corner before gathering the gifts. The chocolates, the fluffy socks, and the photo album you’d been working on for months were carefully stacked in your arms along with the blanketed puppy. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself before heading back to the bedroom.

Beth was still asleep when you entered, her figure barely visible beneath the layers of blankets. You set the gifts down on the chair by the window before sitting on the edge of the bed. The puppy wriggled slightly in your arms, but you hushed her softly, stroking her tiny head to keep her calm.

“Beth,” you murmured, reaching out to gently rub her back. “Baby, wake up.

She stirred, letting out a groggy hum as she shifted onto her side. Her eyes blinked open slowly, unfocused and heavy with sleep.

“Merry Christmas,” you said softly, leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek.

Beth smiled faintly, her voice thick with drowsiness as she muttered, “Merry Christmas, love.” She stretched slightly, her hand reaching out to touch your knee. “What time is it?”

“A little after six,” you said, your fingers lightly grazing her arm. “I’ve got something for you.”

Her brows furrowed slightly as she sat up, the blanket falling to her lap. “This early? Couldn’t wait, could you?” she teased, her voice warm and teasing.

You felt your nerves spike as you glanced down at the bundle in your arms, still surprisingly concealed from Beth. You didn’t blame her. It did somewhat look like you were just holding a blanket, a not uncommon thing for you. “I couldn’t,” you admitted, your fingers tapping lightly against the edge of the blanket. “Close your eyes for a second.”

Beth gave you a curious look but obliged, her eyes fluttering shut as she leaned back against the headboard. You took a deep breath, carefully unwrapping the blanket to reveal the tiny puppy curled up inside. The little cocker spaniel squirmed slightly, her floppy ears twitching as you placed her gently on Beth’s lap.

“Okay,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “Open them.”

Beth’s eyes opened slowly, and for a moment, she just stared, her expression blank with surprise. Then, her gaze dropped to the puppy in her lap, and her mouth fell open slightly.

“Is this…?” she started, her voice catching.

You nodded quickly, your anxiety bubbling to the surface as you watched her reaction. “She’s yours. I—I thought… you’ve been talking about getting a dog, and I thought…” Your words trailed off, your fingers drumming nervously against your thigh. “Do you like her?”

Beth’s expression shifted from surprise to pure, unfiltered joy. Her hands moved to gently scoop the puppy up, cradling her against her chest as a laugh bubbled out of her.

“Like her?” she repeated, her voice bright with emotion. “Are you kidding? She’s perfect!”

Relief flooded through you, and you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. Beth looked up at you, her blue eyes shining as she leaned forward to press a kiss to your cheek.

“You’re incredible, you know that?” she said softly.

You felt your face heat up, and you shrugged slightly, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your hoodie. “I just wanted to make you happy,” you mumbled.

Beth laughed again, her attention shifting back to the puppy in her arms. “What’s her name?” she asked, her fingers stroking the soft fur on the puppy’s head.

“She doesn’t have one yet,” you said. “I thought you should pick.”

Beth considered for a moment, her gaze soft as she watched the puppy nuzzle against her chest. “Myle,” she said finally, her voice firm with certainty. “Her name’s Myle.”

The puppy let out a tiny yip, her tail wagging enthusiastically, as if in agreement. Beth beamed, pulling you into a hug with one arm while still cradling Myle with the other.

“Thank you,” she murmured against the top of your head. “This is the best Christmas ever.”

Your hands found their way to the small of her back, your fingers grazing her skin in familiar patterns as you relaxed into her embrace. The weight of the morning’s nerves lifted, replaced by the warmth of Beth’s happiness.

“Merry Christmas, Beth,” you said softly, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Beth pulled back just enough to look at you, her eyes sparkling. “Merry Christmas, baby.”

*

Tags:

@ceesimz @marysfics @girlgenius1111 @codiemarin @simp4panos @silentwolfsstuff @goldenempyrean @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan

[drawnfamiliarfaces]

just wondering, do you know about the cross-collar rule in asian attire? (if not nbd, just thought you might have some interesting thoughts on it in regards to the first ninja)

YES!!! I do actually!!! ;DD Tho admittedly I only discovered it a few years ago and while I 100% incorporated it into my First Ninja headcanons, I didn't have a chance to share it, I guess, haha. ;D

For those curious about the cross-collar rule: Japanese kimono is traditionally worn left side wrapped over right, unless the wearer is deceased.

Tho in RC9GN character sheets designs - ALL kimono wearing characters with the right side wrapped over left.

While I have no idea if this was an animation error due to negligence of research, or a deliberate choice with or without that clothing rule in mind (considering they travel to past and technically all people they saw are dead in the future lol), but you sure as hell can believe me that my mind run absolutely feral with that tidbit.

In some of my posts I mentioned my hcs about how First Ninja is incredibly loyal to his Clan and the siblings he lost, about how much survival guilt he must have suffered, and how much effort and energy he puts into making sure that the Ninja - the culmination of all their efforts - must survive and live on, all in order to keep the Sorcerer contained and their newfound home (and the world) safe and secure. To the point that he would immerse himself completely into his role of the protector and erase any other identity that he had left - an incredibly utterly noble and stupidly horrifying gesture of self-sacrifice for the continuous survival of his clan even at the price of his civilian life.

I trust you can see where the cross-collar rule comes into play with this. ;)

Because in First Ninja's mind - he is a dead man walking. Whatever was left of his semi-normal life with his siblings had been slipping away from him with every loss, until there was nothing left but the duty his clan had taken on. Whatever he was before that, whatever he could have been - has been dead for a long time. And contrary to harsh wording I use, I do not really see First regard it as a great loss - it is still a loss, but here comes a rule of 'the sacrifice of one for the good of many' (something this Clan will surely understand) - if anything it would seem like a logical progression for all the events of his life.

There is a reason I built my headcanons around First Ninja as the youngest of the Clan: if your whole life revolved around an important duty, it would not seem like the great sacrifice for you to devote your entire life to it to that kind of point considering all the circumstances. I mean from an outside perspective it is pretty horrible, but when you literally grew up in the situation? Its a different matter.

But the rule also can be interpreted in a more (?) uplifting manner because, if you took notice - his Ninja suit is also wrapped right over left, and in this case I chose to interpret it as not sign of death but rather continuity, an immortality of sorts if you will - because even if what was left of that young Norisu lord is dead - the Ninja will live on through inheritance, and no matter how much time will pass, how many inheritors will come and go - Ninja itself will survive. And isnt that an immortality in itself?

Admittedly while I have a great deal of thoughts about this, I'm not good at sharing my headcanons (even now I reread what I wrote and wonder if its even coherent haha...), and so far I only managed to allude to the cross-collar rule in one of my MIS posts:

Where First Ninja is still a mortal but who wears his clothes like a dead man, and Chase Young is an immortal who would not even think of dying, lol.

But trust me, while Im struggling to express all of that - every time I draw First, that rule and all the angsty implications of it are constantly on my mind. ;)

[thewistlingbadger]

Adding onto this. Silco is probably THE definition of "it's not always about the money spiderman." I hate the take that he's only doing things for his own self interest because it so violently goes against what we're told about him. If Silco was truly in it for the personal power, money, influence, etc, he could and WOULD have stopped a long time ago. If it's just about ego then he doesn't need Zaun to become independent. If he only cared about zaun independence for his own glory and not for his own people then he'd be no better than the chem barons, and we see how Silco views them as parasites who are beneath Silco. Silco loves Zaun for what it is, which is why his vision of a better Zaun is not a Zaun with peace, it's a Zaun with freedom. Silco sees nothing wrong with the under city's chaos and violence, which is why he perpetuates both and doesn't try to stop either. This contrasts Vi, who as a child viewed Zaun as being inferior to Piltover. This contrasts Ekko, who actively tries to improve upon the Undercity. Silco is devoted to his nation not in spite of its flaws but because of its flaws. To him, it's perfect as is, the only problem is that they're oppressed. Silco already views Zaun and Piltover as equals even though they don't have equal power or influence or ability. To him, Zaun is just as good and potentially better than Piltover. All they need is a chance to excel, the opportunity to rise above the hardships that they wouldn't have if not for Piltover. Silco's okay with putting down and harming individual zaunites if it means the collective group will be better off. It's why he sees no problem with shimmer, because even though it's actively destroying the community, it's boosting their economy and furthering themselves from Piltover.

Silco's hatred for topside really can't be understated. It's important to remember that his generation grew up in a much worse zaun. Of course he's willing to use any means necessary to be free from those assholes, especially after all he's sacrificed and the sacrifices of others he's witnessed. Silco seems to really admire his generation for all the shit they had to put up with. He tells Finn before zaun became an enterprise all they had was the loyalty of zaunite brothers and sisters helping each other. "And now I'm forced to share the air with parasites like you who leech off their memory." Personally, in light of season 2, this line makes extra sense because of Felicia. Felicia was one of Silco's closest friends and she laid down her life fighting for the cause ("so you'll die for a cause, but you won't fight for one?!" Now this line makes more sense too), she's the perfect example of a true Zaunite. Silco also used the gray against the chem barons to not only highlight his superiority to them but also to once again differentiate between his generation and the newer generation.

"Oh, you don't recognize it? Have you forgotten where we came from? The mines they had us in? Air so thick it clogged your throat, stuck in your eyes? I pulled you all from the depths and offered you a taste of topside and fresh air. I gave you life. Purpose. But now you've grown fat and complacent. Too much time in the sun. We came from a world where there was never enough to go around, Finn. That is why we fight."

Yes silco does have his own ego and he is doing things for his own selfish interests but he's not doing things ONLY for himself. His own selfishness is truly not his priority, it's the nation of zaun. "I'm doing this for us, Jinx. For the sons and daughters of Zaun."

I don't see Silco as someone who "lost his way" bc there's no evidence to suggest that this wasn't always his way. We know that he wasn't once always this fucked up and evil but from my perspective he's always been the radicalist. He's always been the one behind the Nation of Zaun, the one that's always been willing to do anything to get his goal. Not even the death of Felicia stopped him or even gave him any pause from pursuing his goal. And of course it didn't, Felicia is the one that told him "I don't care if you have to carve it out of the bedrock covered in blisters." Additionally, silco does just see himself as better than the chem barons, he sees himself as better than most zaunites too. Silco has literally gone through hell and back and is now the most powerful man in the undercity. If he can do that, then what's other people's excuse? Of course he's toying with the drug addicts, to him they're the weakest link in the zaunite societal chain. He's literally standing above them as they're at his feet. The fact that some of these drug addicts where Vander supporters also plays into I think (we know at least Huck had a past with Vander). Another reason why I think he sees himself as superior is because he's basically the only person actively trying to get independence. When Vander was their leader, all he cared about was maintaining the status quo. We know some maybe most of Silco's supporters initially joined him because of his promises of Independence and rebellion but we see after the time skip most of them become washed up and no longer care for the goal. The Firelights also don't seem to care about zaun independence either. They're anti silco and anti Piltover and their main goal is rehabilitating the community.

When Silco died, so did the nation of zaun- that idea, that ideology. NO ONE tries to achieve independence after his death. The zaunites start to rally against piltover because of the new oppressive conditions they're being subjected to, not because they're trying to achieve independence. The Firelights I've been trying to get rid of him since day one and what do they do when he's actually gone? Nothing, they don't make a single play for power in the Undercity. The fact that sevika ends up becoming a council member implies that Zaun is still a state under piltover and not its own nation.

Oh yeah I forgot that there's this opinion that Silco "was blindsided by power and wealth" and "lost his way" and "he only did what he did to benefit himself all along" etc etc. Uh. Where- where did you get that from? I'm not even being sarcastic or something, I'm genuinely curious how you can come to this conclusion.

He operates from a crappy office in The Last Drop and the only attributes of wealth he has are cigars and whiskey(?). My man had one pair of pants for 10+ years and only got a fancy coat to look more intimidating. Besides, when chembarons proposed to give back the gemstone to Piltover so their sales don't drop even harder Silco refused. Also he was ready to give up his power when Jayce made imprisoning Jinx a requirement for Zaun to gain independence. Sure, he IS motivated to keep his daughter safe, but it would also mean that his goal will finally be achieved, so there's nothing left for him to do. Both wealth and power are only means to achieve a goal to him. He also doesn't really display that he gets the kick out of it, unlike councilors in Piltover.

"Well yes he wants Zaun to be independent, but only as he personally sees it" when did he EVER say that??😭😭😭😭 Every time he speaks on the topic he only mentions how he wants Zaunites to have opportunities, respect, "more than (Piltover's) runoff". Like- that's literally everything he ever said about this. All that matters to him is independence, he couldn't care less about everything else.

As to "losing his way"...idk I think this can only be attributed to pre-drowning Silco. Because after it he pretty much decided to stick to what he now believed in forever, and at no point except the finale he went south from his beliefs.

Silco isn't "misguided" or "corrupt" or any other similar definition. He's a character who chose to become a monster to bring change to his people. And as s2 didn't do anything about resolving this conflict, he was never really proven wrong.

[taradactyls]

Sneak Peak of Chapter Forty-Two of Trying to Tread Water

As promised, because I didn't get the chapter finished before Christmas busyness kicked in, and I didn't want to leave you all with nothing over the holidays. Hopefully this will keep you going until I get the chance to write the rest of the chapter!

~

Chapter Forty-Two

When seeing that the direction was in his aunt’s hand, Mr Darcy scowled at the letter a moment, before returning it, unopened, to the silver platter with the other mail.

“What is it?” enquired Elizabeth softly from the sofa, noting his expression.

“Lady Catherine has written,” replied he. Elizabeth looked as though she might stand, and he gestured for her to remain seated as he instead moved to sit beside her. “I was not expecting it. Georgiana had heard nothing from our aunt about such a step as of her last letter.”

“A response from Lady Catherine! Do you not want to read it now?”

“Not in the least.”

Elizabeth took his hand into both of her own. “Surely there is nothing to dread? At worst, even if she does scold you and denigrate me, we are exactly where we were before.”

“It is not that I dread anything Lady Catherine has to say,” he said frankly, meeting Elizabeth’s sympathetic eyes. “Instead, I simply refuse to have our morning disturbed by her. I am looking forward to going around the park with you in the curricle far too much to allow the contents of her letter – whatever that may be – to intrude. There is time to read it and think about any ramifications or responses later.”

“Well,” his wife smiled, “I cannot pretend a morning seeing Pemberley with you is not an infinitely more appealing prospect.”

He pulled one of her hands up to give it a kiss, and kept holding it as they fine-tuned the details of their outing. Yes, this was a far greater priority than his aunt.

Mr Collins would be aghast if he could see Pemberley over the course of that day, for as it happened, there was much that its occupants deemed more important than Lady Catherine, and so the ‘later’ designated as the time to open her missive did not come until long after nightfall. But as he could not see, there was not one person displeased by this and peace was allowed to reign on English shores. Mr and Mrs Darcy were settled comfortably in nightclothes and robes in her room, on the lounge before the fire, when Elizabeth, feet tucked upon the seat as she leant against an arm rest, finally watched her husband pensively open the letter. He perused it briefly, his expression revealing little.

“Lady Catherine does not insult you, so here,” he said, offering Elizabeth the letter, “you may read it for yourself.”

Though too respecting of the privacy of correspondence to have ever asked to see it, Elizabeth could not hide her eagerness to read the words of the infamous Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

Mr Darcy gave her a brief summary as she took it from him. “Though there is a little resistance, it does seem her resentment is giving way. You were right, Mrs Darcy, to prevail upon me to overlook the offence and seek a reconciliation.”

“I am too glad for your and Miss Darcy’s sake to even be vain about my unparalleled wisdom,” she smiled.

“Clearly,” he replied, arching an amused brow.

She only smiled again and turned to the letter, which did show promising signs that the breach may be mended. Yet not even that relief, nor the seriousness of the topic, could negate how diverted Elizabeth was by reading some of Lady Catherine’s highhanded phrases.

Mr Darcy observed her silently as she read, sitting sideways with one knee on the seat and an arm propped on the back of the lounge, head half-leaning against that hand. “What part are you reading?” asked he, after she could not withhold a brief laugh.

Putting on her best imperious – and only slightly comical – voice, Elizabeth grandly reread the sentence. “‘I am pleased to discover from your petition to me that you have not entirely forgotten that sense of familial duty which was always so admirable in you.’”

The gentleman groaned, covering his eyes with his hand. “How I hate to feel I am supplicating before her.”

“You do not appreciate being told ‘I know how distressing my displeasure must be to you, for you could not but feel it keenly, and as I am more compassionate than most I cannot but be touched by your agony’?” replied Elizabeth, reading again from the letter in the same tone.

That did draw a smile from Mr Darcy.

“But of course, how could you mind it,” Elizabeth said archly, poking his leg with her foot for emphasis, “when you are the wayward nephew being so generously welcomed back into the fold.”

He seized her foot before she could poke him again, and smiled fully at her surprised response. “I mind it significantly less when you are the one reading it to me,” said he as he lay her foot across his lap, his hand resting gently atop her ankle, skin separated only by her nightgown. “I might even be able to hear it without a shade of resentment and thus formulate a more measured response.”

“Well then,” replied Elizabeth, ignoring the heat in her face, “allow me to get comfortable and resume.”

Impulsively propping her other foot up next to the first on his lap, Elizabeth read on. She felt most of the letter seemed a superfluous demonstration to appease Lady Catherine’s own pride, and allow her ladyship to ignore the fact that the aunt benefitted far more from amicability with her nephew than the reverse. But, as that made for good material to read in an irreverent fashion, Elizabeth would hardly complain that the letter could be reduced to a third of its actual size without losing any crucial content. Especially when Mr Darcy was so often smiling at her delivery of the lines, the warm glow from the fire softening the lines of his aspect even further.

A little bit swept up in it, Elizabeth was not always aware exactly of what she was saying. One moment it was a condescending “If you wish to honour that unique trust that is placed in yourself and your cousin, the Colonel, to aiding the maintenance and proper management of Rosings Park, I should not object to allowing you the opportunity to regain my esteem by seeing you again in that capacity.’” The next, it was “‘Very well, Fitzwilliam, I will recognise you again, and even allow your marriage to stand,’” before Elizabeth suddenly realised what she just uttered.

Halting suddenly, Elizabeth’s eyes darted to Fitzwilliam Darcy, and was horrified to see him grimacing. Before she could apologize for the unintended causal liberty, for their situation, though married, was unique, he spoke.

“I had imagined my name from your lips would sound sweet,” he said, gaze fixed upon the fire, “yet when it is as you recite the words of my aunt, I cannot enjoy it at all.”

Though eased of her apprehension, she still explained “I was not thinking – I had not – I would never presume the right to address you so intimately. I only ever hear my mother use my father’s name when they are alone and she is so cross her voice travels through the walls.”

“That is also a far stray from my imaginings,” he said ruefully. His glance towards her was gentle, and his thumb brushing her ankle even more so, when he added “Do not fret, you have more than earnt the right to address me without ceremony in private. Plus, I have been calling you Elizabeth when we are alone for months now – I do not even know when I begun.”

Elizabeth smiled slightly at this, before her mind caught on what else he had first said. “How did you imagine it?” she enquired with a frown.

Mr Darcy blushed a deep crimson. “Mostly, mere casual use.”

“Well, in that case, what are our plans for tomorrow, Fitzwilliam?”       

It felt strange on her tongue, but only from newness. The taste of the name, the answering restrained happiness in Mr Darcy’s expression, was perfect. “Exactly as sweet as I thought,” said he.

Elizabeth herself blushed, and did not for a moment know where to look. “I hope not so sweet that you expect me to call you thus in public – I could hardly throw off decorum so blatantly,” she teased. Even her mother, as vulgar as she could be, would never be so crass as to incorrectly address her husband before others. The formality of a wife was part of upholding her husband’s honour and respectability, and showed her own gentility. It was simply good-breeding.

“No – such intimacy is not for their ears. Only you.”

“Then when we are alone, I shall consider you Fitzwilliam.” My Fitzwilliam, she wanted to say. Rising instead to levity, she added “Except for when I am very cross, apparently. What should I call you then?” she mused.

In an amused tone, he replied “I imagine the name you use will be of less import to me than your displeasure itself.”

“Perhaps I shall be so incensed that ‘Mr Darcy’ feels like a courtesy I do not want to give, and though ‘Darcy’ alone does roll off the tongue – and very easy to give that added emphasis to the first syllable, when venting my frustrations – perhaps I ought to go with the full name. Although an irritated ‘Fitzwilliam Darcy’ does rather sound like scolding a wayward child, and I am not sure that is the tone I want to capture when mad at you. I certainly cannot say ‘Mr D.’ or any other sort of abbreviation! And ‘husband’ seems so formal and cold when angry – although,” Elizabeth said, tilting her head in consideration, “I suppose that might have its uses –”

“Enough, Elizabeth,” Mr Darcy cut in with a smile. “I doubt this is a matter that needs to be pre-considered.”

“You are right,” she replied archly. “I should just go with the name that feels right in the moment.”

“Not exactly what I meant –”

“Unless that name is Fitzwilliam. Which I am to reserve only for sweet moments and never at all use when arguing.”

She smiled at his long-suffering sigh, the gentle stroke of his thumb over her ankle taking any negative associations from the sound. “I would retract my statement, that I do not want you to use it when cross, but I do not believe I ever asserted such. It is certainly not as bad as some of the names you might choose to call me during a quarrel.”

Elizabeth laughed at that. “And I suppose every name will sound sweeter when said happily.”

“Just so,” he said, looking at her.

They subsided into silence, gazes soft. Until Elizabeth suddenly remembered something: “But you know, Mr Dar- Fitzwilliam, that you never did answer my question as to what our plans are for the morrow.”

“Reply to that letter, for one,” he replied, nodding towards the letter Elizabeth she still held – completely forgotten in her distraction. “I ought to respond quickly, and propose that I visit this very month. Late March has ever been the tradition my cousin and I adhered to.”

“That will please Colonel Fitzwilliam, as he must attend then to supervise the planting is in order. No doubt he will appreciate the company if you are able to join him.”

“No less than I would appreciate his,” replied Mr Darcy. After a sombre pause, he added “I am uncertain of the likelihood of her granting permission for yourself to visit, however, so it may all be a moot point.”

Though growing curious about her new niece, Lady Catherine had not relented so entirely as to name Elizabeth as anything other than ‘your wife.’

Elizabeth could not help the smile that came to her face after a moment. “Well,” she said slowly, drawing out the word, “Charlotte keeps asking me to visit, so there is always the possibility we simply stay in different houses in the neighbourhood. That would not look odd at all!  I am certain it would inspire exactly zero gossip.”

“That might actually shame Lady Catherine into allowing you at Rosings.”

Elizabeth laughed, and by unspoken mutual agreement they left the topic there. There would be time enough to solve the dilemma of visiting Kent when Lady Catherine made her position on hosting her nephew and new niece clearer.