#but the answer I came up with is to keep reminding people I exist to stay present in their lives

[puppyeared]

I love you when we haven’t talked in weeks and months I love you when I have 12 unread messages I love you when im not in the mood to talk. We’re still friends even when we spend time apart

[hiraethwrote]

AS I LIVE AND BREATHE

pairing : tobio kageyama x f!reader summary : he thought time had extinguished any silly little feelings he'd had for you. that was way back in high school anyways. why would they linger when he didn't have you around to remind him? cw : just pure fluff, very self indulgent, kinda boring but idc, heavy pining, timeskip, set in 2016, flashbacks, reader is a uni dropout (lowkey me venting about dropping out lol), mild cursing, no use of y/n word count : 3.5k

He couldn’t help how his looks always used to linger — a generous gesture he had only spared you.

It wasn’t news to Tobio that he was notorious for being unapproachable. He had a permanent frown stamped on his forehead that always gave the impression that he was in no mood to interact with anyone. And if someone had been possessed with the spirit of engaging in small talk, he would keep his answers short and to the point. If the topic didn’t interest him, he saw no reason why he would waste his energy on it.

Eventually people just stopped trying, leaving him to live in his exclusive bubble where volleyball was the only thing that mattered — and that was enough for him.

However, you decided to go against the stream, ignoring the pinched eyebrows and standoffish demeanour.

It wasn’t anything big, but you just spared him something as simple as a smile. If he accidentally locked eyes with you across the classroom, or you passed each other in the halls, your lips would curl into the kindest smile before going on with your day.

At first he had thought you must have mistaken him for someone else, because why would you smile at him? You never really talked to each other, falling into the roles of simply being classmates.

But the tiny smiles continued, clearly meant for him. And what was probably just a meaningless act of kindness to you, had heat creep up his neck and colour his cheeks in dusty pink. Eventually he developed the tiniest hallway crush, eyes shyly seeking you out as he impatiently waited for you to catch him.

That’s where his courage stopped however. He knew he would never be brave enough to ever initiate a conversation, based on the few times words were exchanged between you and his mouth would completely dry out. You could come over to ask the most casual question of “do you have a pen I could borrow?”, and when he muttered a shy no, you simply went on to ask the next person, thinking nothing more of it.

Tobio would churn over the interaction for hours, hindsight supplying him with all the possible answers he could have given you.

Three years of a childish crush eventually came to an end when graduation rolled around. When separated, your smiles simply ceased to exist in his life and it was like a fog had lifted. He left Karasuno, and the crush evaporated into nothingness and he grew out of the childish infatuation.

That’s what he thought at least.

Right now, that very smile that had his heart race was staring back at him, identical to how he remembered it — turns out his infatuation had nothing to do with age, and everything to do with you.

Your deadpanned expression twisted into one of pleasant surprise when you spotted him. “Kageyama Tobio, as I live and breathe!”

Maybe he had always had a tiny glimmer of hope he would eventually run into you again — that being said, he was not prepared for that time to be now. Last he heard, you were basking in the glorious university life in Tokyo, attending some prestigious education he could only imagine getting into. You weren’t supposed to stand behind the counter of the quaint convenience store, much like you had done when you were sixteen.

What was even more unexpected was how you knew his name. Your interactions throughout your acquaintance had been so few and far between, he had just assumed you knew him as ‘that volleyball guy’ — but hearing his name spoken in the tune of your voice, travelling in cheerful waves, had his heart beat a little faster.

Despite his frozen stature, he let his eyes take in the scenery of you sat behind the counter. Your shoulders were close under your ears, the corporate fleece doing little to shield out the gushing cold air that occupied the store.

As unflattering as the white light above might have been, it did little to diminish your appearance which was prettier than he recalled — you looked very much like yourself, just slightly different. Every feature had turned more defined, the childlike curves slowly fading with time.

“There’s a face I didn’t think I’d see any time soon.”

Swallowing his nerves, praying his flushed cheeks wasn’t beyond obvious, he placed his items on the surface in front of you.

“Could say the same.” He wished he was brave enough to look at your face, wanting to take in all the subtle changes to your appearance. But he didn’t dare let his eyes rest on you for more than a few moments at a time, redirecting his attention to the rather interesting products he was purchasing, impatiently waiting for his heart to settle so he could act like a normal human being.

“Thought you were busy being a big shot volleyball player,” you teased, the obnoxious beeping of you scanning his items ringing in his ears. “What are you doing back home?”

He cleared his throat, hoping it would bring back some steadiness to it. “Just visiting,” nodding carefully as the words tumbled awkwardly out of him.

As he paid for his items, he tried to let his innocent urges control him and tilt his head to look at you — he had to greet the embarrassed redness to his cheeks like an old friend when he saw you already had your eyes focused on him.

“Are you in town for long?” You asked as you handed him the bagged groceries, your fingers brushing against his in a featherlight touch. It was so modest, he wasn’t even sure you felt it — he most certainly did.

“Just a few days.”

“That’s nice. A break from your hectic schedule.”

“I’ll still practice.”

Your smile widened as you pulled your sleeves over your hands, folding your arms and leaning forward on the counter. “Yeah, guess I kinda knew that.”

He felt so stupid, ogling you with big eyes as he racked his brain for all that he knew of small talk, and yet he blanked completely.

“Guess the life of a pro athlete never stops,” you said as you checked your wristwatch, probably waiting for the time to strike eleven so you could close up.

“No, not really.”

He sensed an awkward silence sneak in on the conversation, and he so desperately did not want it to end. And he spotted the slightest betrayal in your expression when your smile wavered for a split second — and he was convinced it was because you thought he was being weird.

With this opportunity served on a silver platter, he wanted to prove he wasn’t as socially inapt as he came across to be.

“You’re in Tokyo now, right?”

“Well, yes, technically,” you chuckled, undisclosed information hiding in your answer. It was uncontrollable how he quirked an eyebrow in confusion, though he quickly smoothened it in hopes he didn’t come across as rude. “Guess I’m home visiting as well. For a while.”

“And do you like it? Tokyo?”

“It’s definitely more my pace.”

That confirmed his suspicions, possessing a lively personality that seemed too big for this small town. He had always found you to have a soothing type of vibrancy that filled every room you walked into.

And your energy was infectious. He was still anxious beyond belief, but somewhere inside him he could sense that your presence had a calming effect on him. It possessed him with a flash of courage when he said “it’s nice seeing you again.”

You blinked at him, lips parted in surprise at his unexpected line, and for a moment he was sure he had messed up. He clenched his fists, waiting for you to laugh at him or tell him off.

He didn’t expect your smile to return, reigniting the butterflies once again. “Yeah,” you spoke softly, “yeah, you too.” The smile remained and the cute crinkles by your eyes deepened.

The conversation was once more drifting towards a close, and this time Tobio didn’t think he had it in him to resurrect it. He took a deep breath and presented you with a tight lipped smile, mumbling a quiet “see ya,” before turning on his heel and heading for the door.

He only had time to place his palm against the cool glass before you called his name. “Hey, Kageyama,” capturing his attention, eyebrows narrowed as he waited for your next words. “I close up in like ten minutes. Wanna walk me home?”

What? Had he heard you right?

You sunk your teeth cutely into your bottom lip, a tiny bit amused by how visibly his mind was racing to comprehend your request. “I would love to catch up more.”

His shoulders raised, as if this wasn’t the most stressful interaction he could ever remember being in, “sure.”

You gave him a look, one he couldn’t quite deduce the meaning of, while there was a sprinkle of mischief in your pursed smirk.

He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket so his nerves wouldn’t spill out in anxious fidgeting, while you started all your closing routines.

As subtly as he managed, he kept his attention on you, standing behind the register, counting the change as you quietly hummed along to the melody coming from the cheap radio behind you. Consuming his mind was the thought that you seems to fit perfectly into the impression he had created of you back in school — kind, generally keeping a smile on your face, really just trying to enjoy the day that was today.

Your head tilted down to check your wristwatch again as you let out a deep exhale, ridding yourself of the strain caused from the closing shift before you disappeared down one of the isles.

Shifting his weight from one foot to another, he was still trying to mentally prepare himself for the walk home — he was probably never again going to get the chance to prove to you that he wasn’t as socially constipated and egocentric like everyone thought he was.

The lights shut off, and you emerged again, having changed out of the uniform and into a black hoodie. “Finally,” your head fell back playfully in light exasperation, hands rummaging through your bag before you pulled out your keys, “staying open until eleven on a Saturday should be considered a crime. There’s not a soul present the last hour.”

Tobio walked out the door first, and without even thinking about it, he simply held the door open for you. He had just acted on pure instinct, and didn’t reflect on it until you flashed him another one of your charming grins. As you mumbled quiet gratitudes, he spun his head away and retracted further into the neck of his jacket — if you were to look directly at him, you would definitely be able to see the generous flush spreading across his face.

“So, Kageyama Tobio,” you said nonchalantly, spinning the keys around your finger before tossing them in your bag again, “the olympics. Quite the achievement.”

“Thank you.”

You chuckled as you startled to fiddle with the packaging of a protein bar. “Never took you to be so humble,” you teased.

Turning to look at you again, he let his eyes be led by the protein bar heading for your mouth, before landing on your lips — your plump, glossy lips that looked so extremely soft. It wasn’t until you’d finished chewing and started talking again he was able to catch himself staring and avert his gaze back to the path ahead.

“I mean, from what I’ve seen of you on the court, it’s not the first word I would use to describe you.”

“You’ve seen me play?”

A deeper laugh escaped you, one that reactively caused a smile to grow on his face — he quickly wiped it away, too scared to lean into the feeling. “Of course I have. Several. Always having us at the edge of our seats. But you-“ you cut yourself off, pointing the bar in your hand at him.

Did you even have a clue what you were doing to him? His breath hitching in his throat, tense shoulders stiffening his arms when you so abruptly stepped ahead to walk backwards while always able to look at him.

“You, mister, got pride filling your every fibre when playing.”

Eyes widened at your compliment — because that’s what it was, a compliment. Not a comment with rude undertones, not a snarky statement to piss him off, but genuine admiration for his craft.

“You think so?”

“No, I know so. It’s quite obvious when looking at you.”

“Been looking at me quite a lot, have you?”

“As a matter of fact, I have.”

This time he surrendered to the urge to flash you a smile. It was a reserved one, however, barely able to spot how the corner of his lips tilted upwards — cute.

“Guess it’s not too long until you head for Rio, right?” You asked as you took another bite.

“In a couple of months,” he retracted his hands from his pockets to clutch around the strap of his bag. “Kind of a wonder they let me visit home.”

“Yeah, would think they’d have you locked up in the gym until you leave,” and you chucked again, a sound he quickly realised he really liked to hear.

He cleared his throat, slowly stepping into a more confident role. “When are you heading back to Tokyo?”

Your steps came to a halt, and he couldn’t help but notice how nice you looked under the warm light from the street lamps, he nearly missed the uncertainty that traveled across your face.

Eventually it seemed you reached a conclusion, opening your mouth. “I don’t know, to be honest. Soon hopefully.”

“Studies going well?”

“No,” you hesitated, forcing a laugh. “In fact, they’re not going at all.” You could tell by the look on his face he was confused. “I dropped out.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

You didn’t know why it had so easily slipped past your tongue. Usually you had a hard time admitting it out loud, feeling the weighing sensation of disappointment from everyone you told.

However, there was something about Tobio that had you fall into a sense of comfort you couldn’t quite explain. Maybe it was the fact that he was someone who wasn’t a complete stranger to your life, yet unfamiliar enough that he felt unrelated to everything going on.

“Do you regret it?”

It wasn’t the question you expected. People usually wanted to know why — why would you do that, and what were you to do now? Would you manage to find a job no when you had strayed from your original plan?

You let the question linger in the air for a moment before you answered, “no. I don’t.”

His chest raised as he took a deep breath, a welcoming and warm smile greeting you, one that was wider than the one he flashed you earlier. “Good.”

It was one word — just one word, yet it was loaded with a sense of understanding you had barely received when sharing your life changing news. It had you purse your lips to contain the overwhelming smile that was about to overtake your entire face.

The eye contact was intense, heart pounding a little harder by how surprisingly comfortable it felt, filling you with giddiness you hadn’t experienced in a while.

“You know,” you cleared your throat as you turned your back to him and started walking again. “I knew there was a reason I liked you.” It only took him a few seconds to catch up and walk along side you again. “You’re quite the character, Kageyama.”

He scoffed, pretending like what you said didn’t make his heart flutter. “Care to elaborate?”

“I don’t know, I always just assumed you would be like how you are when you play,” you sighed. “You’re so sure of yourself when you’re tossing. Very serene, if you will. Unless you were yelling at that little guy. Damn, what was his name? The ginger?”

Amusement twisted his expression. Not only because you knew Hinata as ‘the ginger’, but also because you had known his name, but not remembered his old teammate’s name despite him being considerably more outgoing than himself — Tobio was almost certain you’d had more conversations with Hinata than you had ever had with him.

“You talking about Hinata?”

“Yes! Him!” Excitement spilling out in your gestures. “Besides the point. My friend had a crush on one of your teammates, so she sometimes dragged me along to spy on your practices.”

He was slowly growing tired of how you had the blush lurking under his skin almost permanently, when he once again felt it approaching as he waited for the rest of your story. For the short time you had been walking, he had managed to find a somewhat steady presence, but the little confidence he grasped onto was hanging on by a thin thread. Whatever you were to say next threatened to sever it.

“There was a handful of times I witnessed you scream at the poor guy,” you laughed, nudging an elbow to his side.

Maybe he could latch onto the pleasant vibrations of your laugh to maintain his peace, trying not to let the memories of his outbursts crush him.

“It was a refreshing sight.”

Come on, Kageyama, give into the banter.

“Has anyone ever told you that you come with quite loaded statements?” He hoped he managed to smear his voice with sarcasm in order to hide the insecurity that tainted his words.

“Sorry,” trailing off with a soothing giggle. “Bad habit — what I mean is, it expanded the impression I had of you. You were always so quiet, minding your own business, much like you are now. When you’re playing, however, you’re emotional, if that makes sense?” You said with an awkward chuckle.

Was he dreaming? Was his ears playing a trick on him? Had you really been doing such an analysis of his character, enough to form an opinion that went beyond the impression he gave to most people?

He turned to look at you, locking eyes with you immediately — there was something so tender in your expression, gaze seemingly holding a deeper message he was eager, desperate, to unveil. But he struggled, too wrapped up in how your vibrant grin had transformed into a shy tilt. He couldn’t quite describe it, but it felt more genuine somehow — emotional, maybe, as you’d put it.

“Anyways,” breaking the eye contact, feeling an unfamiliar burning sensation tingle up your neck. You weren’t used to being flustered like this. “Yelling at Hinata, proved you’re more of a hothead than you let on,” trying to fall back to a casual tension, ignoring how the recent eye contact with his captivating blue eyes had stirred up the tiniest whirlwind inside you.

“Never thought you were so observant,” he quipped, and much like you, he tried to smother the boyish excitement you had caused.

“What? D’you go around thinking I was too daft or something?” There was a very evident joking manner to your tone, but didn’t seem like he picked up on it.

“What? No! That’s not-“

“I’m just playing with you, Kageyama,” you laughed, true melody to his ears.

“I just meant… of me.” He kept his eyes locked ahead, knowing his face was about to completely succumb to the blush that was so easily brought to the surface around you.

“Yeah, well,” he heard your deep sigh, “I don’t know. You stuck out to me, despite you trying your very best not to.”

All his experiences regarding you from his school days suddenly intensified — everything was put in a new light with this revolutionary information. No wonder he had found himself falling for you when there was an unspoken connection he wasn’t even aware of.

“This is me!” Your tone changed immediately, the sentimental energy evaporating into nothing but a memory. “Thanks for walking me home.”

He was fortunate enough to receive another of your characteristic smiles, those would probably always have an hypnotising effect on him, as you backed up towards the entryway of your house.

“My pleasure,” he said, trying his best to mirror the earnestness of your affection.

You had pulled out your keys again, “and I’ll make sure to tune in when you’re in Rio. Even if I have to get up in the middle of the night.”

“Maybe you’ll see some of that emotion you were talking about.”

“Oh, I’m betting on it,” you opened the door. “Good night, Kageyama.”

“You know,” he was quick to interject before you had the opportunity to disappear through the door. He swallowed his fear, “you can call me Tobio.”

A smile. “Good night. Tobio.” You held his gaze a second, and you were out of his sight.

tags : @hiraethwa

an : okay i am not so happy with it... the words were working against me on this one. might be bc i'm not familier with writing for hq yet but eventually. i have more hope in my next hq fic. it is also v boring, but it's more of a venting fic for how i feel about dropping out (it comes in waves yk)

©hiraethwrote 2024 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited

[moriitis]

What would it be like dating Toby Rogers?

Slightly NSFW? TWs; gore, blood, manic episodes, kidnapping. Just little HCs.

Pretty much the biggest goofball there is but he can be really annoying, anything to get you pissed, doesn't really understand the concept of overstepping a joke or taking things too far. I feel like warnings kinda go over Toby's head, so if you told him to stop, he would continuously do it because the first time it made you laugh so naturally every time he did it, you'd laugh, right? He'd do things like jabbing you in the sides when he walks past, jamming his fingers up your butt to piss you off (smacking your ass when you bend over), chasing you up the stairs, he'd mock you when you whined and do that thing to mimic your facial expressions in an irritating way but also in a way to make you laugh.

Loves driving you around, especially late at night. More prone to opening up about his feelings when driving because then his attention is diverted to the road and he's forced to avoid your gaze. You'll always know he needs to vent when he asks if you wanna go ride around, listen to music or something, he'd mention it with his hands in his pocket, pretty embarrassed to ask. Also just likes to ride around and find somewhere remote to park so he can fuck you in the backseat of his car.

Probably the worst person ever to try to call or text. He'll never answer so good luck really trying to get a hold of him.

He's a romantic and he's pretty corny. On the rare occasion he does decide to text you, it'll be a song that reminded him of you. Although don't be surprised if he literally hands you a tape with burned music on it. Wild flowers that he decided to pick because the colour of the petal reminded him of your eyes? Coming home late at night with your favourite snacks. He's a good boy and despite the occasional memory loss, he remembers these things about you, he also keeps reminders on a little piece of paper tucked away in his wallet.

He's a physical person but really only in private. Cuddling on the couch? For sure! Want to share a kiss in public? Probably not. It's nothing toward you, he just feels weird expressing bouts of love in public with people watching. Was it the lack of love in his childhood? Probably.

Will roll your cigarettes/blunts for you. He's a natural.

Very competitive gamer, try playing some Mario Kart against him and this guy is quivering at the thought of beating you. You got him with a blue shell once at the finish line, thus taking his first place last minute and he had to step outside to have a cigarette because the loss hit him that hard.

Despite his lack of physical affection in public, he is possessive. Hates the idea of other people looking at you and gets very jealous. Also will stand incredibly close to you, close enough you could feel his breath against the back of your neck. He'll scowl around too and make sure to put himself between you and another guy.

Speaks German when he's angry, like when he rages at Mario Kart (he HATES Yoshi primarily) you'll hear him talking smack to the TV in German.

Also speaks German to you when you're beneath him, muttering small praises in his mother tongue as he pants and groans softly against the skin of your neck. Sometimes he'll mix, start speaking English but end the sentence in German.

His driving is reckless but he'd never put you in any danger, not after what happened with Lyra.

He hates being around you when he has a manic episode, his voice cracking as he yells at you to stand back, that he's dangerous, that he could hurt you, kill you. With each step you take toward him, he takes one back, violently shaking his head. His tics and twitches are worse as he runs his hands through his hair, they bawl, tugging at his locks as if he was daring to rip them out but the pain is non existent to him. He'd storm out, distancing himself from you. It could take weeks, the longest it took was a month before he came back, scruffy, tired, longing.

Talks about how he wants to travel, to go somewhere with you, that he'll kidnap you and take you away forever and that you'll only be his and his alone.

Does get a little thrill of scaring you. Making it look like your home alone but as you walk past the bathroom door, he'll jump out, one hand over your mouth, the other wrapping around your waist as he picks you up helplessly and drags you back. You'll kick and scream until his raspy laughter breaks out behind you. He did it a couple times until you had a panic attack once and he never did it again.

Likes to remind you to take your medication, dude specifically has a calendar to keep track of times and dates, when you should take this and that. Especially birth control.

Will touch your thigh as you sit in the car together sometimes his fingers pushing up further in a little attempt to get lucky, a smug smirk on his face.

Compliments in German too, of course.

Will suddenly hit the breaks in the car to send you flying and then lecture you to always wear a seatbelt. Always wear your seatbelts when sat in car with him.

sorry these suck lololol, idk might seem off character for toby but it's just how i see it play out. i'll make another post for just general HCs for Toby bc i have so many. anywayyy taking requests to shoot if you have any ideas :)

[hungermakesmonsters]

(Once Bitten) Twice Shy

Chapter Seventeen

Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R  Chapter Rating : PG

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Nothing too warning worthy, just some really creepy vibes at the end. All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 4.5k

A/N : happy fic-friday!

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE | CHAPTER SIX | CHAPTER SEVEN | CHAPTER EIGHT | CHAPTER NINE | CHAPTER TEN | CHAPTER ELEVEN | CHAPTER TWELVE | CHAPTER THIRTEEN | CHAPTER FOURTEEN | CHAPTER FIFTEEN | CHAPTER SIXTEEN

MASTER LIST

Chapter Seventeen

You sat in silence, too paralysed by fear to think rationally. There were things you knew you should be doing, like looking out of the window and trying to figure out where you were and, perhaps more importantly, where you were going. But, really, what did it matter? You’d always known that it would come down to this, that you’d end up his prisoner and, now, you knew for certain that no one was going to save you.

Your eyes drifted to the rear window, not looking at him, not even acknowledging his existence. 

The streets of New York all looked the same at night; all bright lights and crowds of people. The only thing you could tell was that you didn’t seem to be leaving the city. Somehow that made things worse, knowing that you were still so close to Billy but you might as well have been a million miles away. 

And, suddenly, despite your situation, Billy was all you could think about. He was probably at Josie’s by now, he’d probably realised that you were gone and that he’d never see you again. He was probably so angry.

“You’ll soon get tired of giving me the silent treatment,” he stated with a confidence that made you sick to your stomach, “but I’m not going to rush you. I have patience and we have the rest of forever.”

Forcing a breath, you tried everything you could to keep a blank face and not give into the scared helplessness that was filling you. Your gaze remained focused on the window and the streets you’d been so excited to explore only a few weeks ago. 

A sense of claustrophobia took hold the moment the limo turned into an underground parking structure, darkness filling the car and making you feel more trapped than ever. Then the car stopped.

You didn’t move, didn’t even tear your eyes away from the window.

Until he reached for you.

His cold hand on yours caused you to flinch and pull away, only to find fingers tightly gripping your good wrist.

“You’re going to behave for me,” he told you, the slightest hint of annoyance seeping into his tone.

“Or what?”

You weren’t sure what came over you in that moment but you were just as surprised by your sudden snap as he was.

“Do I have to remind you what will happen to your family?” He asked, leaning closer, gripping tighter. “Or maybe I should remind you what I’m capable of...”

“You don’t scare me anymore, Mr Drake,” you answered back, his name spat from your mouth like venom despite knowing you were only making things worse. 

“Please, you should call me Justin since you’re going to be my wife,” he offered with a smile that made you feel ill. “And you should be scared of what could happen if you try to refuse me again.”

“Am I supposed to care what happens to my parents after they sold me to you?”

You didn’t expect the laugh that followed, a sound that caused the dread in your stomach to continue to build.

“And what about Irene? You still care about her, right?”

The sound of your sister’s name on his lips was almost enough to cause your heart to stop. It was a lie, it had to be. She’d been gone for years, no one knew where she was or how to find her.

“You’re lying.” You decided to call his bluff.

He let go of your arm to reach into his pocket and pull out his phone. A moment later you felt bile rise in the back of your throat at the picture he showed you. It had been years since you’d seen her, but there was no mistaking that it was your older sister. The sickening feeling only continued to increase as he started to swipe through pictures; pictures of a family, of two young children and a telltale bump on her belly.

“If you’d prefer I could take what’s owed me from her instead, along with your nephews and your unborn niece.” He put the phone away, no longer needing it to threaten you. He’d made his point.

“You’re a monster.”

He laughed again.

“Oh, darling, you have no idea.” He leaned to open the door and then gave a wave of his hand, indicating that he wanted you to move. “It’s up to you whether we do this the easy way or the hard way.”

For a few seconds you remained completely still, defiant.

Then you moved.

What choice did you have? You knew he could bend you to his will if he wanted to, you knew he could hurt you and those closest to you. More than that, you knew that you were completely alone. No one was going to look for you. No one was coming to your rescue.

“Good choice,” you heard him mutter as he followed you out of the limo.

You bristled at the touch of his hand against your lower back, guiding you towards the elevator but you moved regardless, knowing better than to think you could outrun a vampire in the gloomy parking lot.

The elevator doors slid shut, trapping you with him and his driver, watching as he swiped a key card for the penthouse floor. Your heart lurched along with the elevator and, despite wanting to remain steely and unphased by the situation, you found yourself pulling your arms across your chest.

It was only then that you realised your suitcase was nowhere to be seen. Try as you might, you couldn’t remember what had happened to it. It had been with you when you left Josie’s but then you’d walked into Krista and -

And after that, everything was hazy.

“Where are my things?” You asked. “I had a suitcase.”

“Gone. You don’t need it,” he answered.

Your chest tightened, squeezing out a breath. Your eyes fixed forward, unblinking, not wanting to show him how upset you were. You weren’t bothered about your things, about your purse or phone, but your heart was breaking over the stuffed beagle that meant so much to you, the last little piece of Billy that you had.

“I want it,” you demanded defiantly. 

“Why?” He asked, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“Because it’s mine. If you want me to stay here and not cause problems, then you need to find it.” You glared at him as he spoke, as if there was really anything you could do to hurt him. 

He seemed disinterested but shrugged before giving his driver a glance. The man nodded, understanding his orders without a word even passing between them. Though, by now, you knew it was probably too late. You’d probably never see Bill the Beagle again.

As he led you into the penthouse suite, his driver disappeared back into the elevator, but you weren’t so naive as to think that you were alone with him. He’d have his goons somewhere near, in case he needed them. If you wanted to even think about trying to get away from him again, you were going to have to bide your time.

Your stomach dropped when you were led into a bedroom. You lingered in the doorway, leaving as much space between you and him as you could and, of course, he noticed.

“There’s no need to be shy,” he told you, barely holding back a smirk.

“I’m not being shy,” you answered back. 

His gaze darkened.

“I can’t say that I like this new attitude you seem to have developed. I can see now why William Russo had to resort to physical means to keep you in line,” he stated, gesturing at your broken arm.

“You don’t know anything about Billy,” you snapped through gritted teeth.

“Oh, Billy is it?” He asked, looking at you like he could look right through you, like he could tell every little thought in your head, and he didn’t like what he saw. “Got close to him, did you?”

You felt your cheeks start to burn while your hands clenched to fists at your side, and he noticed it all.

“More than that?” He asked, though he didn’t need to hear an answer. “You’re lucky I’m not a jealous man, otherwise I might have taken it out on poor dear Billy. But, then, why should I be jealous of a vampire who likes to play with his food?” 

“You know nothing about it or him.”

“Oh, I know plenty,” he answered back. “Enough to know that he’ll have a new girl in his employ, bleeding for him by the end of the week and probably in his bed just as quick, just like he replaced your friend Krista...”

You shook your head, insolent, even though some part of you wondered if he was right. Perhaps Lissa had already put out an advertisement for your replacement.

But you weren’t given time to linger on the thought. He closed the distance between you, his cold fingers grasping your chin, turning your head one way and then the other as he inspected your neck.

“Did he bite you?” He asked and you stayed silent, so he resorted to threats. “Do I have to strip you and check for myself?”

The threat was enough to break you. “No. He didn’t bite me.”

“Good. Now get changed out of those clothes, so we can have supper and discuss our future together.” A wave of his hand led your gaze to an outfit that had been set out for you on the bed.

----------------

“Why didn’t she tell me?” Billy asked as if he thought Karen might have some magic answer to explain everything that was going on.

She’d explained about Madani, about the questions the Homeland agent had about Billy, as well as the warning that she’d offered outside the hospital. But she only knew what you had shared with her and the little that Madani had been willing to say, and it wasn’t a lot. 

And it certainly wasn’t enough for Billy.

“I don’t know, I guess because she didn’t believe it, she didn’t think it was worth worrying you with it,” Karen offered, lifting her glass and taking a slow drink.

Billy and Frank had asked around, hoping someone had seen you while Karen called Madani, but the most they got was from a drunk who thought you might have gotten into a limousine with friends. By the time they sat to wait for the Homeland agent, Billy was crawling out of his skin.

“And you’re sure she didn’t believe it?” He asked, again trying to get an answer that he knew Karen couldn’t possibly know.

“Well, she saw Krista, didn’t she?” Frank offered. “Hard to think you killed someone who’s still walkin’ around.”

“But, what if -” he started and stopped as Karen dared to reach across the table, placing a hand on his arm.

“Billy, she didn’t leave because she thought you’d done something wrong,” she offered.

“No, she left because I’m like... this...”

Frank bristled at his side but didn’t say anything, though Karen could tell just how much effort it took for him to bite his tongue. She’d seen them have that argument before, and she’d been the one left to console Frank afterwards.

“We’ll find her, Billy,” Karen tried again, pulling back her hand.

“I just -” he started but stopped the moment he noticed a woman in a suit approaching them, eyeing him with very obvious suspicion.

Karen’s eyes followed Billy’s, and she quickly stood up.

“Agent Madani.”

“Ms Page,” she greeted Karen before uncomfortably eyeing Billy and Frank.

“Something’s happened and we need your help,” Karen tried to explain, waving a hand, trying to get Madani to sit. 

Between the three of them, they explained what had happened as far as they knew, up to the point where they found your suitcase on the sidewalk. An uncomfortable silence fell while Madani took it all in.

“How can you be sure she didn’t just abandon it?” Madani asked, glancing at the case.

“She wouldn’t do that,” Billy answered, his hand resting on the stuffed beagle. “Why would she leave her phone and purse?”

Madani looked at him for a few moments, saying nothing.

“And how do I know that any of this is true?” She finally asked. “How do I know that this isn’t some elaborate ruse? How do I know she isn’t dead somewhere and all of this is to stop me from asking questions later on?”

“I didn’t kill her. I haven’t killed anyone. I -” Billy started to snap.

“Bill,” Frank warned, silencing him.

“You’ve got a badge, right?” Karen asked. “The store across the street has got a security camera pointed at the street, you can take a look at the last hour and see if we’re telling the truth or not.”

Frank struggled to fight back a grin, nudging Karen with his elbow, impressed with her. Madani on the other hand, seemed a little less enthusiastic. 

“It’s not that simple, I’d need a warrant, and -”

“We don’t have time -” Karen started.

“Fuck this,” Billy muttered, getting to his feet.

Frank followed suit. “What’re you doin’, Bill?” 

“I’m going to get the security footage myself,” he answered.

“Hey, if you think I’m going to sit back while you commit a crime -” Madani was on her feet a second later.

“The more time we waste, the harder it’s going to be to find her,” Billy snapped. “And I’m not going to lose her. You can either help or you can stay out of my way, but I’m warning you, Agent Madani, I’m not someone you want as an enemy.”

Without another word, he started towards the door, Madani and Frank following after while Karen opted to hang back with your suitcase.

Billy made his way across the street, not caring if he was followed; he was determined to find out what happened, with or without help. With the way he was feeling, he’d tear the store owner apart if he even tried to get in his way. And Frank seemed to realise that. It was why he didn’t let Billy get more than a few feet ahead of him.

And Madani followed because she was almost hoping that he’d do something to prove her right about him.

“How we doin’ this then?” Frank asked just outside the little corner store, stopping Billy in his tracks. 

“That’s up to Agent Madani,” Billy answered, glaring at the Homeland agent.

For a few seconds she looked at the two vampires, hating that she was being put on the spot but realising that there was nothing that she could do to stop them from looking at the footage one way or another.

“Fine, wait here,” she answered, as she moved to step past Billy.

“What? If you think I’m -” Billy was silenced by Frank’s hand on his shoulder.

Madani waited for a beat before entering the store alone.

The bell over the door chimed, signalling her arrival to the young guy behind the counter who looked up from his phone for a split-second before dropping his gaze again. Madani strode towards the counter, reaching into her jacket for her badge and ID. For a few seconds she didn’t say anything, instead she listened to the faint sounds coming from the assistant's phone.

‘If vampire’s keep taking all the wealth and making it so honest, hard working humans can’t find a decent job that pays a decent wage -”

She cleared her throat, having heard all she needed to. Anti-vampire sentiment was still widespread and there were plenty of online commentators willing to try to make a quick buck from it, and in this situation, it was something she could use to her advantage.

“Agent Madani, Homeland Security,” she stated. The kid looked ready to shit himself at the sight of her badge. “I’m going to need to see the CCTV footage from the front of the store for the last couple of hours.”

“I -” for a moment he struggled to find the words, “- I think I’d need to ask my boss.”

“Is he here right now?”

“No, he lives in Jersey...”

Madani let out a sigh, letting the kid see her frustration.

“Listen, I’ll level with you, I’m tracking a dangerous vampire,” she told him and saw a flicker of anger on his face. “I think they’ve hurt a lot of people, a lot of young women about your age...”

“Fucking bloodsuckers,” he muttered.

“If I could see that footage, I might be able to catch him and, if I do...” she shrugged, “well, there’d be nothing to stop you from posting the whole thing online. I hear you can make a lot of money with stuff like this.”

Madani could practically see dollar signs lighting up behind his eyes. At any other time it might have bothered her just how easily influenced the kid was, but time was of the essence and she needed to know if Russo was lying to her. 

“Yeah, okay,” the kid relented, “it’s in the back here.” 

He gave a quick glance around the store, making sure it was still empty before showing her into the backroom. The set up was hardly state of the art, but it was easy enough to use - in fact, she’d used several similar systems in the past, so it didn’t take her long to scrub through the video and find the exact moment that you left Josie’s. The picture quality wasn’t brilliant and the poor lighting on the street didn’t help, but you were easy enough to spot with your suitcase.

Madani watched as someone deliberately stepped into your path before taking you by the arm and leading you towards a waiting limousine. She managed to get half of the licence plate of the limo and snapped a quick photo of the blurry figure with her phone while the kid’s back was turned, then she stood.

“Is it on there?” He asked.

“No,” she answered, forcing another sigh, “looks like the bastard managed to slip by just out of range of the camera.”

His disappointment was palpable.

“But that isn’t to say that he won’t come back,” Madani offered, “so it’d be best if you didn’t mention this to anyone, otherwise you might spook him and... well, I wouldn’t want to see you charged with obstruction after you’ve been so helpful.” 

He nodded and she didn’t waste any time in making her excuses to get out of there.

Billy was pacing by the time she stepped back outside, both men seemed to be engaged in a heated debate about something, and it looked as though Russo was on the losing end of it.

“All I’m sayin’ is -”

“What did you find out?” Billy asked, ignoring Frank and quickly refocusing all of his attention on Madani.

“I’m not sure,” Madani stated, pulling out her phone, “she left the bar and someone met her outside before leading her to a limousine. There wasn’t a struggle but... something didn’t seem right...”

“You think someone was compellin’ her?” Frank asked.

“Maybe. I can’t be sure. I got a partial plate and I’m going to call in some favours to run it, see if I can figure out who owns the limo and where it went,” Madani explained before holding up her phone to the men, showing the blurry image she’d captured. “But, while we wait, we should try to figure out who this is.”

“Fuck,” Billy grit out almost instantly.

“Goddamnit,” Frank let out a second later.

“Well, that was quicker than expected. Care to fill me in?” Madani asked.

“I knew I should’ve killed her,” Billy muttered, forcing an uneven breath, struggling to stay in control of himself.

“It’s Krista Dumont, alive and well, and still pissin’ everyone off,” Frank answered, though his gaze stayed on Billy. “You went lookin’ for her, right, Bill? Know where she might be now?”

“Yeah, I know where she lives,” Billy answered, his attention quickly turning to Madani. “You wanted to know what happened to my previous employees, right? Well, you’re about to find out.”

Without another word, he started moving back towards where he’d left his car. Frank and Madani quickly followed after, the latter on her phone calling in those favours to try and track down the limo.

----------------

You were finally left alone to change, though you spent at least five minutes searching the room, looking for anything that might help you escape. As much as you’d felt resigned to this eventuality, just being around him again had panic and dread gnawing at your insides. You had to get away.

The first thing you did was check the windows, despite already knowing that you were too high up to even consider it an option. In fact, the penthouse suite was so high up that the people on the street below seemed like ants.

Next thing you checked was the room’s phone by lifting it to your ear. No dial tone. No cord connecting it to the wall. If you could get a cord from one of the other phones in the suite, you might be able to call for help. You filled away the thought for later. 

Then you checked the drawers and the wardrobe, feeling sick to your stomach when you found several outfits that were obviously for you. They looked like the sort of clothes your mother would have picked for you and not at all like the outfits you’d enjoyed wearing over the last six months. Even the dress he’d laid out on the bed for you felt uncomfortably conservative - though you supposed you should be glad he wanted you to dress that way.

Shaking your head you tried to force the thought away and concentrate on finding things that might be helpful. 

Wooden hangers could perhaps be turned into weapons but... well, that was a line you didn’t want to think about crossing until you really had to.

“Dinner is here,” you heard his voice from behind the door. “Unless you want me to come in there and dress you myself, I suggest you hurry up.” 

As much as you wanted to be stubborn, as much as you wanted to cause him as much trouble as possible, the sorry fact of the matter was that you were scared. And you had every reason to be scared. So, you gave up your search and quickly changed into the clothes that he had left for you and stepped out into the suite.

The main room was lit by lamps, creating a romantic glow that made you feel sick.

Instead of looking at him and the table, you glanced around the room, taking note of where the phone was and how close the door was. But your host seemed to realise what you were doing.

“Sit,” he ordered, pulling out a chair at the table.

You made a point of walking around him and taking a different seat.

“You’re starting to test my patience,” he remarked, taking his own seat. 

“Already?” You remarked off-handedly, reminding him of the comment he’d made not two hours ago in the limo.

“Did Billy Russo let you talk back like this?”

“He never gave me a reason to,” you answered without hesitation, despite knowing it wasn’t strictly true.

He gave a grunt of irritation before uncovering your food. You looked down at the plate, your lips curling at the sight; tuna steak and salad. While he started to eat, you simply stared down at the plate. Even though you knew you’d never see him again, let alone bleed for him, the thought of eating anything from his list of prohibited foods. It took Justin Drake  a minute to realise that you weren’t eating, and then came the frustrated sigh.

“Are you going to fight me on everything?” He asked.

“I don’t eat tuna.”

“Since when?”

“Since I decided I don’t like it.”

“Then eat the salad,” he snapped.

You took small consolation in the fact that you were already getting to him, showing him that you were going to be far more trouble than you were worth but, again, you knew better than to push too far too soon. He could hurt you. He would hurt you if he felt like it. 

Reluctantly, you began to pick at the salad with your fork, silently wondering if you’d be able to sneak any of the cutlery away from the table.

You ate in silence, neither speaking until you were both done. He’d poured you a glass of wine, but it had been left mostly untouched and, thankfully, he hadn’t thought to order dessert.

“Tomorrow we’ll be travelling home,” he informed you. “The wedding is being arranged as we speak and, by this time next week, you’ll be my wife, so you should rid yourself of any childish notions of escaping or denying me.”

“I won’t marry you.”

“Yes you will.”

“Why? Why any of this? Why me?” You asked, anger quickly starting to bubble over. “I’ll never stop fighting you, I’ll never be yours. How is any of this worth it to you?”

He just laughed at that, sitting back in his chair and lifting his wine glass to his lips, taking a slow drink before even thinking to answer you.

“Because it’s fate.”

“What?” Had you heard him correctly? Had he called it fate?

“It was never about the money - that was just to keep your parents in line - it’s always been about you, my sweet girl.” He continued to smile as your skin started to crawl. “I knew I had to have you the first time I set eyes on you.”

Your stomach continued to churn and tie itself in knots as you thought how long ago that must have been.

“Why?” You dared to ask even though you were terrified of how he might answer.

“You look just like your great-great-great-grandmother.” He paused as if he was expecting you to say something but the shock had rendered you silent. “She was like you, she refused me what should have been mine, and she paid the price.”

It felt like your blood had turned to ice in your veins, not sure exactly what he was telling you, but not wanting to ask for clarification either. You remained silent, wondering how long he’d been tormenting your family like this and if you were the first to find yourself in this situation with him. 

“I always regretted it, once she was gone I mean. I should have handled things differently, but I was young back then, barely past my first century...” he sounded almost wistful, like he was recounting a fond memory. “But then I found you. And I won’t make the same mistake twice. You will bend to my will. You will be my wife in every sense of the word and, when you’ve finally accepted your place at my side, I will give you the greatest gift imaginable.”

You didn’t have to ask to know what he was implying.

“No,” your head shook. “I don’t want to be a vampire.”

“My sweet girl, what makes you think you have a choice?”

End Note : ... I'm not even sorry about ending it like that, I'm having too much fun getting things ready for the final confrontation. I think that there's probably only two more chapters left of this one now (depending on how carried away I get with the next part), so I hope you all enjoy what I've got planned. Also I'm sorry I picked that name for the bad guy...

As ever, thank you so much for reading/liking/reblogging/screaming at me in the comments! Have a great weekend!!

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[astrophileous]

ZAHRA I DEMAND (request) A PART TWO OF JEALOUS REID I AM BEGGINGGGGG 🧎‍♀️😩🙏 I am actually in love with the way you write spencer like MY GAWD. MY GAWD.

your request (demand) shall be my command, your majesty 🙏

Warning(s): gn!reader, more jealous spencer bcs apparently it wasn't enough in the first one, a cheesy narration abt "change" 🤢🤢🤢 bcs why not.

This is part two for this blurb.

This blurb was written as a part of the "Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K" celebration.

Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

If there was one thing Spencer Reid always found peculiar about mankind, it would be the general lack of acceptance when it came to change.

Before today, Spencer never understood the science behind metathesiophobia: the fear of change. Unpredicted and terrifying as it was, change was necessary to keep the ubiquitous balance of the universe. Change existed in the smallest and biggest capacity of the world, and Spencer, for the life of him, had never been able to berate change for doing exactly what it was intended to do.

Until now.

As Spencer stood next to the copy machine just a few feet away from the kitchenette, eavesdropping a discussion he had no business injecting himself into, Spencer finally understood why many people in the world feared change. The noises coming from the machine in front of him were tumultuous, but Spencer craned his neck and ears to the best of his capabilities just so he could listen in better to the conversation.

"JJ," Spencer heard you say, "I'm telling you, I'm not interested."

"I haven't even told you anything about him yet!"

"Jennifer, it's not about the guy. I'm sure your friend is lovely, but I'm just... not looking for anything like that right now."

"C'mon, (Y/N)," JJ nearly whined. "Please, please, please, just think about this? How long has it been since you broke up with that Bran guy, anyway? You've been single for a while now, don't you think it's finally time for a change?"

Change.

The word tasted bitter as Spencer felt it burn all the way down his throat.

There was a beat of pause where Spencer's heart thundered inside its crate; reeling in suspense over what your answer was going to be. He heard your sigh before your voice arose once more, "Fine. Just text me his number and I'll handle the rest myself, okay?"

Spencer tuned everything out after that, safe for JJ's elated squeal that echoed nearly halfway through the bullpen.

The rest of the day unraveled like a tedious nightmare. After collecting his belongings, Spencer headed out of the bullpen with his car keys in hand. He was waiting for the elevator to arrive, internally cursing his decision for having driven to work that morning, when an unfamiliar voice suddenly appeared behind him.

"You're still here, Doctor?"

Spencer turned around to see you approaching from the direction of Penelope's office. The smile on your face reminded him of cotton candy: soft and sweet; just like the scent of your perfume as it engulfed Spencer's whole being.

"I thought you already left," Spencer muttered.

"No, I had things to take care of. How about you?"

"Yeah. Same."

The elevator arrived with a ding. You walked in after him and pressed the button for the lobby, your scent attacking Spencer's senses even more ruthlessly within the tiny metal box.

"You have any plans for the weekend, Doc?" you asked once the elevator started going down. "A hot date, perhaps?"

Spencer loathed the view of your cheeky smile, along with the teasing gesture of your eyebrows at the suggestion of him going on a date with another person. Here he was, propelling himself to the brink of insanity over the idea of you being on a date with anyone else but him, and you didn't even bat an eye at the prospect of Spencer being with someone else.

"No hot dates for me," he responded. The elevator opened with another ding. "Can't say the same about you, though, can I?"

Your inquisitive gaze slid his way.

"I heard you and JJ in the pantry." Spencer opened the lobby doors, allowing you to walk through before falling into step beside you again. "So, are you going?"

"On the date? I honestly don't know." The night breeze blew against your face. Spencer shuffled closer when he noticed your subtle shiver. "I haven't even texted him yet. I don't feel like it, to be honest. But JJ just seemed so excited about it, so the least I could do is try talking to him first, right?"

An interim silence settled between the two of you. Before long, Spencer spotted his Volvo being parked a few paces ahead. "This is me." Spencer gestured to the car.

"Nice ride." You smiled, humming appreciatively at the vehicle. "Well, I'll get going, then. See you Monday, Doc. Drive safe."

Spencer watched as you started to saunter away. A familiar flame had begun raging and licking up his spine since the moment you mentioned the phrase a hot date in Spencer's face, and now, he could feel that same flame taking a hold of the beating organ inside his chest.

"Don't do it."

You stopped in your tracks.

It took Spencer a few seconds to realize that the interruption had come from him.

"Don't text that guy."

You spun around fully to face him. "Why not?"

"Because I don't think you should go out with him."

You looked at Spencer strangely. "You don't even know the guy."

"I don't need to. I just—" Spencer's jaw hardened, "—I need you to swear to me. Please. Swear you won't go on the date."

Your forehead creased in confusion.

You knew what Spencer was saying didn't make sense, but what perplexed you even more were the words that came out of your mouth next, "Okay. I won't go on the date."

Spencer breathed out his relief as if you just granted him fresh air after years of being buried underground. He gripped his satchel tighter and fiddled with the strap, giving you a curt nod before he slipped inside the driver's seat of his car.

Spencer drove away after that, leaving you standing alone in the middle of Quantico's deserted parking lot as you stared feebly at the tire marks on the ground. A foreign fire had suddenly flickered inside your chest, and even if you didn't understand the significance of it yet, you knew that it must've had something to do with a specific genius profiler who just demanded you to back out of a date that hadn't even been planned yet.

After casting one last look towards his speeding Volvo in the distance, you turned around and headed for your own car, feeling the fire in your ribcage burn brighter with every single one of your steps.

[zoropookie]

HOW HATERS ARE BORN (HHAB)

♡ chapter twenty-six — br(ok)en (💋)

You stared at your phone light up for the twelfth time within five minutes with a dull expression.

Admittedly, you felt angrier knowing that Scaramouche still had the audacity to even text you after everything. After tormenting you for years and years, what kind of shame should someone feel after that, you wonder. The relentless pursuit of making your life miserable—to which he failed at, but it did make you wonder.

Did you do something to deserve it? Each notification felt like another jab that he took to the heart, reopening your wounds from each time he said something messed up to you. As you laid there motionless, with no light ruminating in the room except your phone, you began to feel tears well up in your eyes for the thirteenth time today.

Pursing your lips, you swiped up to read the messages and only felt reminded even further of every harsh word he said. Every cruel taunt, every moment of humiliation...and yet...

He was still right, despite being the biggest hypocrite known to man. And it pissed you off.

Why were you even laying here? Ignoring the world, rotting here like you're a vegetable. You knew that you were something to people, you knew that you were valued.

There wasn’t anything that was particularly motivating for you to get up, however. You ignored every need that you could have possibly wanted, subjecting yourself to sparseness. No matter how much you wanted to, the thoughts always came back and you didn’t know how to deal with them.

A small knock echoed from the front door. It was loud enough to hear, and you still shoved your head in the pillow and hoped it went away.

The longer time you went without answering it, the knocks became more frequent. It wasn’t Thoma, that’s who you could observe without getting up.

You finally managed to drag yourself out of bed, lazing about sounded so much nicer now that you were dreading who’s at the door. With a frustrated sigh, and irritation already to its peak of your heart, you opened the door to a familiar-ish face.

Little girl?

“Did you forget that you exist?” She said with a smile. “Welcome back to Earth! I didn’t know how long you’d be cooped up in here so I brought treats.”

You stared a bit longer than you meant to at the Tupperware of Asafiri in her hands, momentarily taken aback. “Heh?”

“Yanfei sent me here. Looks like you’re having a little bit of trouble getting back on your feet. I take it you know her?” She inquired.

“Yeah.” You blinked slowly, before holding the door a little wider. “Uh…come in, I guess. Thanks for the…treats.” You cringed. “Wow, I get why Heizou keeps being called a creep now, this can look so wrong.”

“The difference is that he does it to himself.”

The warm water on your body was oddly refreshing.

Getting out of the shower was harder knowing that you'd come back to the gust of wind in your living room, but knowing you had fresher pajamas on was also a plus. Things didn't look too great on your mental, especially since you were accustomed to showering a lot in your fresher mind.

You put on the Lightning McQueen slippers you quite often wear, and moved to the kitchen after hearing soft chops of a knife. You wondered what Nahida was up to, staring at her cut apples and bananas before putting them into a huge bowl she found in your cupboard.

"This is a very odd fruit salad you're making." You drew attention to yourself before her eyebrows furrowed. "I don't know whether or not to tell you to be careful with knives."

"I'm smarter than you think I am." Nahida cooed. "I'm used to people being condescending."

"Oh...I'm sorry— You're killing me here, kid. Lady? Are you a child or not?" You asked desperately.

Nahida turned to you, her saturated green eyes stared at you with obviously deliberate thoughts roaming her head before she took a sharp breath. She pointed the knife at you. "Do you feel better?"

"Not...really? I mean, it happened. All of this at once." You tried to process it quicker, but your head failed you. It's like how you actually felt in the moment was blocked. "I feel like I'm in limbo, I don't want to see the sun these days."

"Your thoughts are your biggest enemy right now. Easy to overthink. It's a lot to deal with on your own, good thing you aren't, right?" Nahida lowered the knife, her expression softening. "I cut you up some fresh fruit. It's better than the Asafiri for now, you don't need that much sugar after not eating for a while, or you'll crash hard. And get a headache."

Looking at the bowl loaded with bananas and slices of apples, you couldn't help but wonder why you were even granted this much care anyway. You were in mild disbelief, sitting down at the island counter in front of Nahida. "Why are you actually here?" You said in defeat.

Nahida stopped cutting the fruit, gaze shifting from it to you. She couldn't find what she could say to answer you, but she did press her lips together. "Do you want me to be honest?"

"A little." Your voice lowered.

"Yanfei and Heizou," Nahida paused, trying to find her words, "They wanted to see if I could convince you to start streaming again."

You frowned immediately. "Oh. Thanks for being honest."

"You made progress today, but I don't expect you to be up to it. It's a really big step." She asked you, but you couldn't even decipher the intentions behind her eyes. It was impossible to detect what anybody was thinking nowadays. "They just told me to come over so they can hope their investigation moves."

You sighed, leaning back in your chair once you felt the bitterness course your body again. Hearing that made your mood possibly worse than what it would've been if you were in bed. "Not happening. Thanks for checking on me though, you can leave if you want."

"I knew you'd say that. I guess it's fair, people are...going crazy right now figuring out whether you're okay or not." Nahida smiled once you looked back up at her. "Both Scaramouche and your fans are trying to get anything they can on your wellbeing. It's better to wait it out."

Your hopeful face turned into a sullen one, shoulders slumped at the mention of his name. "I don't know if I can even go back at all."

"I'm not sure how hard this is for you, but with what happened, you've obviously been through enough. While it's your choice to go back, Yanfei is under the impression that you can get revenge." The shorter girl explained. "In my eyes, though...I think you're able to decide that for yourself."

You felt the weight of the memories heavily, your head daunting enough for you to let out a shaky breath. "You think so?"

Nahida nodded, humming, "You don't have to stream, but don't give him the satisfaction if you're upset. You shouldn't let him know that you're suffering because of what he did. The worst thing that you can do is prove him right."

Funnily enough, as soon as she said that, you felt tears well up in your eyes again. It struck a cord, and you knew she was right. It was just knowing that anybody would say it verbatim. "That's the same thing he told me too." You blinked back your tears, more resilient than you were a few minutes ago, but also to the brim of misery.

"He?"

You shook your head, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. "Thanks," You muttered, choking on your words. You couldn't manage to say anything else, otherwise you'd betray your steely posture. "I'll think about it. Just...stay here a little more with me, please. Maybe I'll...find the resolve or something."

previous ♡ masterlist ♡ next

YOU ARE on your way to being one of the hottest streamer in your nation at the moment, racking a monthly average of 10 million viewers, but something specific bothers you about it. you know that a lot of people hate you, but there's this one account. one account that's been following you since the early days of your career. they leave a flood of rude comments in your stream, your moderators banned each account they made, but they keep making more. you are at the end of your tether. but you are yet to find out that this persistent cockroach is none other than your friend's friend (and the only other streamer that's bigger than you), scaramouche.

taglist ♡ @thystarsshine @veekoko @gumickajolli @simonisferal @kamiboo

@justpeachyteastea @feiherp @pinkismyfavcolor @aether-darling @kunisnaomi

@keiiqq @mine-lu @featuredtofu @danhenglovebot @k4zushi

@kyon-cherri @b4tm4nn @iiinaurate @quacking-simp @auroratumbles

@kookiibun @ulquiorraswife @amvpk01 @simplysm1le @h3xi2g0n3

@alatusorrow @scaranthropy @mellowberrie @magica-ren @vernith

@kabukipookie @bananasquash @suqarlaced @dellalyra @lightyagamifan

@yourfavoritefreakyhan @heartsforseo @yomishen @pwushizz @swivy123

@strxwberryfetish @ibyobi @ashfrommars4 @chemiru @ainnofinway

@agaygothicmushroom @levianamor @dragontammerz @wth121 @lylovw

@morgyyyyyyy @lovemari @suniika @melpomenelurks @yumejo89 @liuaneee

@franaby @tiddieshakeshownu (bold users means i'm having trouble tagging you)

[onlyswan]

summary: in which sour and salt could be so sweet when jungkook’s existence reminds you that there is still good in the world.

> fluff, a pinch of angst, suggestive / wc: 3.1k

> warnings: mention of the doctor bc oc missed their period >:(, allusion to s/x, making out, jungkook doing pull ups must be a warning for the faint hearted like me

note: we’re going through the seasons?! partly inspired by #that live and jungkook for calvin klein <3 we’ve all seen those pictures right… right… i hope the onlyswan prophecy continues with this drabble i need to see jungkook do pull ups at the beach <3 + reblogs & feedback are always appreciated :D

—

jungkook is a sunkissed daydream and a shirtless adonis. his tender hands are on your bare thighs, keeping himself steady on the light brown sand while you sit still and look pretty on a log.

“baby, are you pregnant?”

when a man spits out this question, it usually sounds a little bit something like an anxious and insensitive ‘you’re not pregnant, are you?’ your starry-eyed boyfriend is asking you in a calm tone, joking for the most part, yet genuine wonder is painted on his face as if you’re just supposed to tell him what day of the week it is.

you stare at him with a blank expression, silent for a moment as the fierce waves crash on the shore, finding it difficult to take him seriously. “i don’t know. did you break a condom?”

he breaks eye-contact to space out, pursing his lips as he pretends to be immersed in deep thought.

“uhh, not to my knowledge.”

“then i’m not.” you shrug your shoulders with a cheeky grin, scrunching your nose. “will you steal some mangoes for me now, please?”

“is my baby craving for them that bad?” he coos at you softly, inching closer to press a kiss on your lips. “no but why do you always ask me to steal mangoes for you?”

“what do you mean ‘always’? this is only the second time.” you scoff, offended by the accusation, shoving him lightly but he quickly takes a hold of your arms to save himself from falling.

he chuckles lightheartedly, recounting the first time you visited his hometown and you took a walk around his neighborhood together. you looked at the mango tree with so much longing, and he had so much love for you, it was untameable.

nothing much has changed.

except for the color of the mangoes, perhaps. they were yellow back then, ripe and soft. you ripped off the fragile skin with your bare hands as you devoured the nectar-filled fruit, and the both of you came home to his parents’ house sticky and satiated like little kids who played under the sun from noon to afternoon. today, they’re green and plump, and truthfully, his mouth is watering for a taste.

“you know, since the tree is directly infront of our villa-” he tilts his head to the side, briefly looking at your temporary private residence. “it’s technically ours, so it’s not stealing.”

your eyes are glitter with mischief, and they communicate without words before you burst into a fit of revitalizing giggles, filling your empty tummy with a childlike joy.

—

for a while before jungkook, you’d forgotten people are kind. you chose to live for yourself, and yourself only, because you thought that if you lose sight of your plans for the future because of a impetuous slip within the thrill of temptation, you would also lose the essence of your being that you’re actively fighting so hard to get a good grasp of. you’re in a never-ending, excruciating process of picking apart your identity; detaching yourself from what you learned in the past to make room for growth; and swallowing bitter pills of hard-taught lessons. but when you’re in a relationship, every decision goes through a filter, a need for an answer to the question of how would this make my partner feel?

your friends still ask from time to time, what it is about jungkook that made you bend this principle and compromise your plans when those were the reasons you impulsively ended relationships in the past.

you’d forgotten people are kind.

jungkook is messy. he always leaves behind a fragment of his heart, and you shake your head and you pick up each one to stuff it in the shallow pocket of your understanding of love… until the weight of them destroyed said pocket, and all of a sudden, you have awoken. he opened your eyes to the underlying implication of that filter, how having something sacred to protect is also what makes life more worth living after all.

more than two hours ago, at seven in the morning, he held back your hair while you emptied your guts in the toilet bowl. a week ago, he held your hand in the doctor’s waiting room and didn’t let go until your name was called. that same night, you sulked about the doctor concluding that the reason you didn’t get your period last month was stress again and he teared up when you said i eat well, and i exercise regularly. but in the end it’s all useless because stress is messing up my body and i can’t control it. what do i do? the next day, he cheerfully asked you if you wanted to go see the ocean with him. right now, he’s hanging on a thick branch of a tree, enthusiastically doing pull ups while you peel the raw mangoes he picked out for you.

the familiar sounds of moans and grunts convince you to move the log you’re sitting on, abandoning the view of the majestic blue sky kissing the sparkling ocean in favor of facing your gorgeous boyfriend. he moves on to doing hanging knee tucks, pulling his knees to his chest and gradually increasing his speed and range of motion after gathering enough leverage.

“ah, this is tiring!” his yell ripples across the near-empty beach. he squeezes his eyes shut, laughing through the pain that hurts so good.

you set aside the paring knife on the plain white porcelain plate, dipping a piece of mango in the hill of salt before taking a bite (you played rock-paper-scissors to decide who would call the front desk for salt and you won after jungkook said he lost because his rock was made of paper). this, it’s just what you needed to cure the lethargy that’s been eating away at you. the combination of sour and salty explodes in your taste buds, remedying your awful loss of taste and appetite.

you shudder in sheer delight, smiling sweetly at the man brazenly showcasing his strength infront of you. “i like this a lot. i can feel my stress melting away… like ice cream under the sun.”

“i’m happy you’re enjoying yourself while i-” he cuts off his sentence, letting himself fall on the sand before jumping again to adjust his grip on the rough wood. once again, he hauls his legs upward repeatedly, reaching higher and higher each time. he releases loud huffs of air, grunting raspily with every exertion of force.

you stifle a scandalous gasp when his knees touch his wrists, covering your mouth as you grind the food with your teeth. okay, you know damn well he is flexible and a human-shaped vessel of physical strength, but you mostly witness their irrefutable testaments during intense moments of love and lust… the blissful memories can be kind of hazy.

he heaves a deep sigh, taking a rest as he hangs motionless on the branch. picture-perfect, center-frame for your adoring eyes to feast upon. his honey skin is glazed with a fine sheen of sweat, further accentuating the well-defined muscles of his torso. you only get a tease of his v-line. it hides beneath the exposed white band of his calvin klein underwear peeking above his black swimming shorts. his stomach rises and falls with each breath, and you can’t help but to marvel at his abs with appreciation. beautifully prominent, sculpted not too much. you love that when you touch them, you still feel the tenderness of his flesh, so rawly and so uniquely jungkook.

“you like what you see?” he grins when your eyes meet, winking at you flirtatiously.

“i do.” you sheepishly admit, scrunching your nose before putting another slice of mango on top of your tongue. “keep going. i want to see more.”

“more? you want more?! aish- so demanding.” he complains, thick satoori accent dripping from his voice but still, he gives you more.

you giggle in satisfaction, closely observing the flexing of his muscles and the veins along his arms popping out. one must think you’re used to his tattoos by now, but you’re definitely not. you just learn how to act unaffected, like you can’t write a book of poems about how his body art never seizes to bring you in absolute awe. his eyebrows knit as he pulls himself up, face crumpling with the amount of force and strength he utilizes with every manuever. it’s a seductive scene, but then the dimples on his cheeks make fondness bloom in your heart.

for the love of god, it’s not compromising your plans, but making jungkook a part of your plans. you no longer fantasize about a perfect life. you just want to keep waking up somewhere safe— to be here, standing on the tips of your toes, planting a delicate kiss on the mole at the lower right side of his ribcage. your lips have made one too many sharp mistakes, but they ghost over his skin and he laughs. laughs so joyfully, a majestic string of musical notes from his mouth no other instrument on earth can recreate. it’s a good mistake, the best mistake you could ever possibly make.

“here, drink.“ you offer him a bottle of cold water.

“i’m so tired. oh, fuck-” he does one final pull up before letting go, deliberately falling on the sand and bumping against your feet when he rolls over.

he sits up, warm body vibrating with giggles as he looks up at you.

“did you pack a first aid kit?“

you put a hand over your hip, raising an eyebrow. “what happened now?”

“my hands-” he stares at his palms, sand coating half of the area, before showing them to you. “they sting like hell! seriously!” his little lisp slips out as he rants.

”then why did you keep going?!” you exclaim, grabbing his tattooed wrist to assess the damage. there’s no blood in sight, but his skin has turned a very bright shade of red.

“because it was fun.” he simply answers, and you can’t argue with that.

of course you brought a first aid kit. it’s a necessity, especially when you’re on vacation with your gym bunny boyfriend, apparently. while you grab the ointment in the bedroom, jungkook decides to clean himself up under the outdoor shower situated in a corner beside the swimming pool.

“what’s wrong with this? why are they going at the same time?” he scratches his head in confusion, looking up at the spraying shower head and down at the gushing faucet. he fiddles with the handle in hopes of fixing his problematic water consumption, unintentionally pushing it up higher as he does so. this causes the water pressure to become stronger, sending thin needles to crash down and pierce his fragile skin.

“aw shit-” he reflexively runs away from the rude attack of the silver device. “yah, you punk! what did i to you, huh?! how dare you-”

he clicks his tongue in irritation, resting his hands on his hips. after glaring one more time, he extends his tattooed arm to push the handle all the way down, turning it off. he proceeds to experiment, tilting it to the left, which turns on the faucet only, and then to the right for the shower.

he laughs sarcastically at his discovery, going back under the water. “ahhh, was i the stupid one?”

—

“i missed you!” he declares loudly as soon as you step out of the sliding door.

“me too, babe.” you hum as you walk towards him, standing a considerable distance from the shower.

he wipes his face with his hands to unblur his vision before pushing back his wet hair, droplets of water endlessly rushing down his body.

“why are you so far?” he protests. “come here.”

“but i already took a shower.”

“so what? you’ll get wet again when we ride the jet ski later.”

you pout at him. “i told you i’m scared.”

“i’d be jack if i have to, i won’t let you drown! don’t you trust your boyfriend, hm?” he attempts to persuade you again after failing last night, knowing well that you’d enjoy yourself only if you overcome your fear of the deep waters. “it will be fun, i promise.”

“ugh, fine. only because you promised.” you weakly succumb to his wishes, setting down the small jar of ointment on the ground.

he happily pulls you in for an embrace, burying his face in the crook of your neck while your arms wrap around his waist. the only barrier between your chests is the thin and small fabric of your red bikini, thoroughly soaked by the cold water combatting the rising heat of the approaching noon. you can feel the rough grains of sand that were washed away from his skin under the soles of your feet, contrasting the feather-light kisses being scattered on your neck. and this feels so utterly liberating, you refuse for it to end, allowing yourself to be hastily pinned against the wall when his supple lips meet yours.

he cups the back of your head and his long and slender fingers dig into your hair, protecting you from accidentally hitting the hard cement. the small thoughtful gesture makes you smile into the kiss. he is not real, he can’t be. if this is a dream, you’re begging the sun to never rise. his gentle hands slowly travel down the expanse of your back, until they reach your hips, teasingly tugging past the side straps of your bikini bottoms before kneading the soft flesh of your ass. he swallows the strangled whine that escapes you, slipping his tongue past your parted lips. he’s addicted to how your body language speaks to him when you get intimate, how you lovingly caress his face and his arms, slow and sensual, but then unconsciously dig your nails to mark crescent moons on his skin when you begin getting lost in your combined passion.

he wants this. he wants you. he wants to spend the rest of his life kissing you and wringing the water from your hair.

—

you’ve deserted the log to comfortably sit cross-legged with jungkook on the lounge chair, under the shade of the brown umbrella rooted in the soil.

“mhmmm! it’s so delicious!” jungkook carefully dips the slice of mango in the salt once more, wary of the ointment from his hand smearing on the food, before muching on it eagerly. “so crunchy!”

you pause from tending to his left hand, looking at the plate between the two of you to learn that he is nearly finished with the second mango. you only have one left.

“damn!” he dramatically curses with his eyes squeezed shut, punching the salt air. without context, a stranger would probably guess that he tragically lost a bet or remembered an embarrassing memory from highschool. but really, he’s just enjoying some pretty good food. this is the fourth time in the past five minutes that he precisely did the same thing, and yes, you’ve been counting.

“is it that yummy?” you chuckle, extremely endeared and contented when he looks this excited around food. he is the only person in the world who can make you say i’m full just by watching you eat and mean it.

“it was your idea!” he bobs his head while energetically rocking from side to side, cheeks round and full as he chews. “i haven’t eaten something new in a long time. i love it… i should give the resort five stars for my review. just for this. i’ll say i’ll come back again for the mango tree.”

“or i don’t know, we can just plant one ourselves.” you propose before lightly blowing on his inflamed palm.

“but, baby, that would take years!” he interjects. “we need to buy another house, one with a backyard, and wait at least five years for it to grow. i’ll be thirty-two by then. are you hearing that?!”

the disgusted look on his face elicits a burst of amused laughter from you, stomach hurting with a reason miles better than earlier’s. he winces at the thought of entering his 30’s in the very near future. it feels odd to think about, but it’s a little less daunting with the tree added to the picture.

he picks up the final slice on the plate, smothering it with a thin layer of salt before devouring it entirely. he whimpers, high-pitched and wide-eyed, clasping his hand over his mouth before the other one you’re holding slips away from the solace of your care. he free falls from the chair, limply collapsing on the sand. and just like that, he’s covered in them again, from his damp hair down to his wiggly toes.

you move closer to look at him, dangling your legs on the edge. “darling, you’re still alive, aren’t you?”

he spreads out his limbs like a starfish, dreamily peering into the vast cloudy sky. “oh? i think this is exactly what it means to be alive.”

beyond his words, it’s the way he said them. without shyness, without qualms, without pondering. it makes him sound purely sincere, his mellifluous voice gracefully echoing louder than the nihilistic thoughts in your head, and you believe him.

he abruptly sits up, crawling on his knees to reach you. “baby! it’s too good! i want more!” he cries out, feigning desperate sobs as he hugs your legs. “i want more. let’s eat the third one, please.”

“fuck, okay. calm down. we’ll have it.” you cackle, stroking his hair while he rests his head on your lap.

you drag the plate to your side, slicing the last mango with practiced precision and skill. he, then, closes his eyes and bathes in your presence, his warm breath fanning you. it’s peacefully silent for a while, only the sounds of the knife dragging across the fruit and the waves chasing each other to the edge of the sea can be heard. that is until your boyfriend grows bored. he puckers his lips to brush against your soft skin, insatiable, climbing higher and higher until he’s peppering your inner thigh with kisses.

tingling sensations inevitably spark in your lower region, and you click your tongue to rebuke him. “jungkook, behave. i might cut myself if you keep that up.”

his lips curve into a naughty smirk, shifting a bit further down. “sorry.”

“do you want to get sunburnt? get back up here, on the chair.” you bounce your legs to shake him off, but your efforts prove to be fruitless.

he groans, stubbornly holding on to you tighter. “no, i don’t want to.”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask / dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

[lightlycareless]

seeing your fic about naoya having a child and naming her after reader had me thinking; what if he had a daughter by y/n but then she died or the zen’in clan got rid of her and had him marry another woman to produce a son, but naoya raised naomi to be his sole heir and successor, even if he has children with the other woman?

Heya anon!!

WOW. This ask is sure angsty, or maybe I made it angsty with what I’ve written. But you were 100% right, Naoya wouldn’t really care for kids he might or may not have with other people. I mean, if he could, he would NOT but we’ll go into more detail at the end :)

For now, I’ll just let you enjoy what I’ve written hehe.

Warnings: angst. You’re dead. Naoya’s new wife is a bitch. Naomi is hurt :( I’m sorry, I’ll just get this over with, she was slapped. That bitch gets what she deserves anyways so…

Happy reading!

She doesn’t know you, but she already hates you.

The hindrance you represent, how you voided her one-way ticket to a new, fulfilling life—and all because of her husband’s unwillingness to move on from his dead ex-wife.

It rightfully infuriated her, mostly because she had been nothing but perfect when it came to complying with the Zen’in’s overwhelming demands.

If they wanted her to keep quiet, she’d never speak a word. If they wanted her to be obedient, she’d go beyond their expectations, there would be none more loyal than her.

And yet—her performance went undetected to her husband and his obsession with your presence.

From those stupid portraits of you scattered across the estate, to his chambers still filled with your garments…!

In a fit of anger, Kaede tried to get rid of them once and for all, grab them and toss them out the door for whoever found some use in them, if a dead woman’s clothes could still have some—but the moment Naoya caught wind of her intentions, he made sure she’d regret ever thinking of such stupid idea.

“Get your disgusting hands out of my wife’s clothes!” He growled, swiftly taking hold of her wrist and throwing her to the side, careless if she got hurt in the process. “Out— get it out my room, now!”

There’s no doubt in Kaede’s mind that if she weren’t protected by that flimsy marriage certificate, she would’ve met her end right there and then.

It wasn’t fair; it really wasn’t. That after all she’s given up to make him happy, Naoya is still hellbent on considering you as his one and only wife, the sole recipient of his affections, and assets.

But that wasn’t to be the worst of all.

In fact, the bane of her existence wasn’t the constant rejection of her so called husband, but rather, how she had given him a child by that point, a son, that was ought to effectively ensure her position in this family considering their gender—

And yet, Naoya has done nothing but reject his existence. Failing to claim him as his legitimate heir, or even name him…

In favor of that daughter, her mere existence stripping her of such right.

Once again, Kaede is reminded that she cannot compete with you.

You must’ve done some kind of witchcraft to have such a suffocating grip on Naoya, because the way he behaved even after years of your death wasn’t right.

It wasn’t natural.

She had to do something, and it had to be quick. Because his growing resentment only signified her eventual discardment, and Kaede had gone through so much to lose it all against a dead contender.

commodities.

But what could possibly be the answer to all her ailments?

Another son?

Or perhaps… a reminder of the prosperity she provides?

Through the scolding of an errant child, Naomi plays out that role when unwittingly crossing her path and bumping into her, accidentally spilling a bright colored drink on the expensive kimono her in-laws had gifted her at the announcement of her pregnancy.

Such tragedy, what an awful transgression, expected of a resentful child against her stepmother...

What a perfect stage.

“I’m—I’m sorry!” Naomi cried, tugging and pulling against the cruel woman’s hold on her hair as she’s guided away, somewhere, she didn’t know where— to be punished. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to!”

But no matter how much she pleaded, she had played right into her hands and there was no way in hell she’d let this opportunity go.

“Oh, you didn’t? Think I haven’t noticed how unfairly rude you’ve been to me since I married your father?!” Kaede lies, for Naomi has been nothing but courteous to her, though most of the time she prefers to keep to herself, distant, because she’s not precisely someone many would consider approachable.

And because her father asked her to as well.

“I’ve done nothing but be compassionate towards you, understanding of your pain now that your poor bitch of a mother isn’t around anymore.” She continues to berate. “And you? You’ve rejected me and my son from the very beginning! I ought to teach you a few things about respec—”

“My—my mama wasn’t a bi—bitch!” Naomi cries back, and her words, as if her resistance wasn’t infuriating enough, made something inside her snap.

It’s like you’ve—like you’ve brainwashed this whole family into holding you to such a high standard! Appraising you like some kind of goddess whose honor was much greater than their very existence!

Because here she was, casting lies against her character, but all that Naomi cared for was clearing your pristine image—the saint you were for these two… two stubborn fools!

But she’s had enough. Of these theatrics, of this blind loyalty…

And for once, she ought to use her title of mother, her father’s wife, to put a stop to this.

Even if she has to sacrifice Naomi for it.

“Shut up! For once, shut up!” Kaede yells, quickly raising her hand and striking your poor daughter across the face, sending her tumbling down to the wooden floor with a loud thud, soon followed by loud wails and calls for help, anyone to come rescue her from her stepmother’s madness—

But she had made sure to take her where no one would be able to intervene, no witnesses to account for. And those that lingered were simply too scared to do anything, selfishly putting their livelihoods above this young child’s innocence.

No one would end up caring for Naomi, no one… except, that is, the only person who would know when their child is in danger—a heartbroken, protective father that had long sworn to take care of his family and all that remained of his love’s legacy.

Rounding up your staff and making haste to her direction the moment he heard his supposed wife’s erratic cries.

Eyes wide and red at the infuriating sight of that disgusting woman looming over his precious child, making haste to grab her hand with such strength is bound to mark her for the following days.

“Na—Naoya!” Kaede gasps, startled as she attempts to fight him off, but she’s immediately forced to surrender when his hand flies up to her neck, choking her on the spot, barely giving her any time to explain herself, not that he cared to listen, and putting an end to her foolishness.

Permanently.

The last thing Naomi sees before your staff picks her up is the anger irradiating from his face, the vengeance burning in his eyes—a sentiment so distant from the loving father he’s always been with her, the man you’ve greatly spoken of… it almost seemed like a nightmare.

Like all that transpired was simply a figment of her imagination, a matter of sleeping it off and the following day would come along, fixing it all, as if nothing ever happened.

As if that were to clear the anguish settling in her heart.

But little Naomi couldn’t rest, not when her cheek and eyes still burned, her small heart loudly pounding against her chest as she tried to process the abuse her so-called stepmother had inflicted on her—no one, ever dared lay a hand on her. Less someone so close to her.

Not even the unwavering company of your loyal staff and their attempt of comfort through the sound of reassuring, kind words were able to quiet down the turmoil going through her mind. If anything, it only fueled it, a vivid reminder that all that transpired had been real, beyond a horrible dream.

A situation that wouldn’t have a proper conclusion once her father returned to her chambers, dismissing the ladies and taking a seat by her side, wrapping his arms around her and tightly holding her against his chest, to profess the words that further stirred her confusion.

“Papa, what—what happened? Where is she—” breathed, Naoya quiets her with a soft shh, kissing the top of her head. Naomi feels something warm soak her forehead.

“She’ll never bother us again. I’ve made sure of it.” She knows what it is now, feels it more—her father was crying.

“What… what did you do?”

“What I had to do to protect you” Is all that he says, no further explanation for when she’s never seen again around the estate, nor her so-called brother. “No one will harm you ever again, I promise.”

Rumors didn’t take long to spread like wildfire, nor whispers to infest the hallways, the staff’s and members of the clan’s futile attempt to uncover what truly happened that awful autumn evening, because it so happens, no one was around to see it.

They all knew of Kaede’s awful behavior towards Naomi, but her fate… was simply unwritten in the Zen’in’s history. Her legacy… gone.

Not that they would eventually know, since Naoya moved out of the estate with his daughter soon after that.

He was never remarried.

Ok so, let’s go through some things that I’m not sure they were properly detailed here, or things I want to detail lol:

That kid he had with his so-called new wife, unwanted. No consent was given. We can go with either he was drugged, sa’d to conceive that child, or she did the same thing but with someone else and just acted like it was Naoya’s. Maybe did it willingly to get back at him or something, but the bottom line is that kid couldn’t be any more irrelevant to Naoya.

Secondly, I think the ending could be interpreted two ways? 1. He either left the estate but is still part of the clan so he’s just waiting to become head of the family to come back and make things right for his daughter, or 2. He left the clan. He no longer associates with the Zen’in. I, personally, go with the first one. But if motivated enough, I think he might cut ties with them. You’re open to choose whatever you want :)

Well, get a few more dead y/n asks to write down… surprisingly. I wonder what that means lol 😂 anyways, it’s always a treat to write angst stuff!!! Keep it coming hehe. And thank you so much for sending in this!

Now, take care and hope to see you soon!

[tubatwo]

back into you - choi beomgyu

summary: beomgyu is a sweetheart and you just want to be his friend

pairing: gn reader x choi beomgyu

genre: fluff; 1.3k words

a/n: gyu saying he wants to be invited to hang out more broke me </33 btw the other boys don’t exist here because they wouldn’t ignore gyubear like that

playlist: adoy - wonder, adoy - swim

if you didn’t know choi beomgyu by now, you were basically an idiot. choi beomgyu was a friend to all. people either wanted to date him or be him (or maybe both).

but there was only one problem.

many people saw beomgyu in the wrong light.

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a typical day at school for beomgyu consisted of a few tasks: making the classroom laugh, making the staff laugh, making his friends laugh; basically just making everyone around him laugh.

once he completed those tasks and was back in the comfort of his own bedroom, he was able to take his mask off. be himself. fully, and completely. it’s not that beomgyu wasn’t a naturally funny guy, or that he didn’t enjoy bringing happiness to those around him, it’s just that he was starting to feel a bit burdened. on days when he wanted to keep to himself, people huddled around him, asking why he was suddenly quiet. if he was alone, people would look for him to make them feel better since they were feeling “soooo bummed about failing the quiz”

oh, and don’t even get him started on his love life.

girls constantly touching his shoulder, laughing a little too hard at everything he said to the point where it felt forced. it was almost exhausting.

at the end of the day, beomgyu was just a quiet boy who wanted to be loved. he had a bittersweet relationship with silence. during the day he desperately yearned for it, but at night it was like a reminder that loneliness came with it. beomgyu didn't want anything grand. he simply wanted someone who understood him.

it seemed like nobody understood any of this. nobody except you, of course. you noticed it. you noticed him in the library, headphones on while staring out the window. you noticed the soft smile on his face whenever the class was assigned to read love poems. you noticed the look of disappointment on his face whenever he tried to talk to his friends about a new band he discovered and they brushed him off. you noticed because he reminded you of yourself. to you, beomgyu seemed unattainable, but you were going to make it your mission to be his friend.

a few days later…

a test was coming up and you wanted to take some extra time to go over your notes. you decide to skip lunch and find an empty classroom to study in. after successfully avoiding any roaming teachers, you walk around the hallway until a familiar tune reaches your ears.

give me a feeling, slowly in a deja vu

it wasn’t loud at all, just enough for you to hear as you passed by a door. you peek through the window and see beomgyu doodling in his notebook while swaying his head. you hesitate before slowly opening the door, making beomgyu look up in surprise.

“sorry! it seems like we had the same idea,” you begin, “is it okay if I study a bit here?” beomgyu smiles and nods. “are you sure I won’t be a bother?” you ask, just to make sure. “no, it’s okay, really.” he reassures you before going back to his notebook. after a minute or so, you decide to make small talk. I mean, this is the opportunity you were waiting for, isn’t it?

“I really love this song!” beomgyu’s head immediately lifts at this. “really? you know them?” he asks. you nod and smile. “yeah! this one’s my favorite, but I also love their song lemon.” beomgyu gapes at you a bit before smiling and asking, “you’re y/n, right?”. you look at him with wide eyes, not expecting him to know you at all. “yeah, and you’re beomgyu?” you ask, already knowing the answer. you could’ve sworn you saw his ears go red. “the one and only.”

you and beomgyu spent the rest of the lunch period sharing music recommendations. before you left, he asked you for your number so he could make you a playlist. you felt like your heart was going to explode. a playlist? usually, you’re the one making people playlists, only to receive a simple thumbs-up emoji in return, and now beomgyu wants to make you a playlist?

the few days you two spent together turned into weeks, and then months. eventually, you and beomgyu made the tradition of meeting in the empty classroom every lunch period. it felt like the only time when you could quietly bask in each other’s presence. this was until it wasn’t. you and beomgyu were drawing doodles of maltese puppies and tiny bears in each other’s notebooks when you heard loud footsteps nearing the room. a group of people barge into the room giggling, making the two of you flinch.

“yo, gyu! where you been?” a guy asks before walking over to ruffle beomgyu’s hair. the guy takes a look at you and smiles mischievously. “oh, did I interrupt something?” you see beomgyu put on a fake smile before responding. “no, they’re my close friend, sometimes we study during lunch breaks.” you try not to blush at him referring to you as a close friend, and not just a friend. although, a large part of you wished for something more. beomgyu’s group of friends decide to make themselves comfortable and sit in the other chairs. beomgyu gives you an apologetic look before you shake your head at him, signaling that it was okay.

after a while, one of the girls looks at you with squinted eyes and speaks up, “gyu, they’re so quiet… how do you even get along?” your head lifts up and you fidget nervously, all eyes suddenly on you. “and what is this song? god, it’s putting me to sleep.” a different girl chimes in.

beomgyu slams his notebook shut before sighing. “could you all leave them alone? you know nothing about them.” he looks down before quietly mumbling to himself, “you know nothing about me…” the room is filled with an awkward silence before the guy from earlier clears his throat. “uh, okay, how about we just see you later?” the sound of chairs squeaking fills the room as they all get up and leave.

you turn around and place your hand on beomgyu’s arm. “hey, i’m really sorry about that…” beomgyu looks at you in disbelief, shocked, but not shocked enough to ignore the feeling of your soft hand on his skin. he shakes the feeling off before apologizing. “what? no, don’t apologize. they shouldn’t have said those things to you. they don’t understand.” you give him a smile before removing your hand, leaving his arm feeling colder than ever.

a moment of silence passes before beomgyu speaks up. “I can be myself with you.” you look up to meet his eyes, the two of you staring lovingly at eachother before the sound of the bell interrupts you, shaking you out of your trance. you both begin packing up and you softly grab his arm, giving him the warmth that he desperately missed. “would you wanna maybe…” you trail off, “do you wanna go to the new arcade with me this weekend?” beomgyu freezes and blinks at you as you continue. “I also know this really cool cd shop nearby, so maybe we could go… there… too?” you hesitate, starting to believe that you’ve crossed the line by seeing beomgyu’s blank reaction. you almost turn around to accept defeat before beomgyu suddenly goes, “yes!”. he notices how loud and awkward his response was before correcting himself, “I mean, yes, I’d love to.” you smile softly at eachother as he grabs both of your hands into his.

later in the week you receive a text from beomgyu.

gyu<3: can’t wait for our adventure tomorrow! :)

below the text is a link to a playlist labed “♥︎” and the first song is adoy’s swim.

I think of you

when I am sad and down

when the silence makes me cry

when it’s hard to try

I simply fall back into you

[authormars]

Idk if you’ve already posted about this, but I’m gonna ask anyways.

what’s each of the brother’s (Diavolo and Barb included) biggest insecurity? :p

Ah, a post I can make into a long actual thing. I'm counting both physical and emotional

Lucifer

Lucifer's biggest insecurity would be his scars.

Lucifer regularly tells himself how perfect he is, but every time he looks in a mirror and finds his body littered in scars from battles long lost and won, from playful (and not so playful) fights with his brothers, from simply accidentally hurting himself, anything, it reminds him he isn't. Lucifer always covers even the smallest of scars, hating not being that perfect being. Perfection is his biggest flaw.

Mammon

Mammon's biggest insecurity would be his greed.

The knowledge that he would sell anything and everything for money. He knows it's not good. He doesn't want it to be this way. He hates being called a scumbag and an idiot and every insult his brothers hurl at him. He just can't control it. His greed controls him.

Leviathan

Levi doesn't really have a biggest insecurity. The answer would probably be everything.

He isn't as naturally knowledgeable as Lucifer. He isn't as charming as Mammon. He isn't as quick of a learner as Satan. He doesn't have Asmo's perfect body. He isn't strong like Beel. He couldn't choose not to care like Belphie. He is envious of everyone, insecure about anything.

Satan

Satan's biggest insecurity is feeling like a copy.

He can't stand that he was originally Lucifer. Everything he is came from his brothers. Not just Lucifer. Beel taught him how to work-out. Asmo taught him how to do his make-up. Levi taught him how to play games. Mammon taught him how to get under people's skin. Everything he is, everything he has, is because of his brothers. He's not a real demon, he's a creature of wrath molded by his brothers.

Asmodeus

Asmo's biggest insecurity is his ability to love.

Ever since the fall, all he's felt, all he's known is lust. It hinders him. Nudges it's way into his every thought. Is he even capable of love anymore? Can he hold the hand of another and feel anything except the need to bed them? It's almost as if Asmodeus doesn't exist anymore. As if all he is is lust. He fears that more than anything.

Beelzebub

Beel's biggest insecurity is his strength.

He was made to be strong. To be a protector. He works hard to keep that up. He wants to be a protector for his brothers. Someone safe for them to be around. But he fears sometimes his strength goes to far. He holds his hands close to himself so that he won't hurt anyone with just a simple hug. What's the point of having strength if all you can do is harm?

Belphegor

Belphie's biggest insecurity is that he believes Lilith should've been chosen, not him.

Ever since they fell, he's been nothing but problematic. At first, when he transitioned with his sin. Then, attempting to kill humans and fight against the exchange program. Then killing the exchange student his brothers cared for so much. Then making Lucifer's every day a living hell. What good did he have to be alive if all he did was cause trouble?

Diavolo

Diavolo's biggest insecurity is that everyone around him is only there because they have to be.

Mephisto was made to be his friend. Made to entertain him when he was isolated at the castle. He forced Barbatos to stay at the castle with him. He made Lucifer swear his loyalty to him. Swear he would stay by his side. What good is a friend if they're forced to be it?

Barbatos

Barb's biggest insecurity is that he didn't do his best with raising Diavolo.

He's proud of what the young lord has become. He's proud of the dream he's realized. But what if it isn't enough? Barbatos has seen demon kings rise and fall. The good and evil. He's seen what his young lord can become. What if, even after all the work to make him the kind-hearted soul he is, it isn't enough?

Thank you for reading so far into this (I know it's long)

My askbox is always open and if you have fic suggestions, I'm always up to write!

[lu-is-not-ok]

o mighty hong lu master, the autism i have of him bowing down to you in your honor, i must ask a question relating to his family...

so when dante is overheating in the yield flesh intervallo and they start saying things about the ego and such, hong lu says "they're starting to sound like my grandfather!"

see i dont think hong lu's the type to compare anybody rambling to unrelated rambling so i was wondering if like. there could be any potential meaning in What his grandpa was saying relating to ego or other more crazy stuff!!

since the jia family has had super huge connections ive had maybe the idea of like. i dunno they had some insider knowledge in the past and they sent hong lu out specifically to find out more about what the more unnatural parts of the city entail since limbus as a company is secretive about that stuff. so they want to understand it proper... but that does feel a Bit out there. what do you think :3c

There is some interesting things in this ask that I wanna discuss. However, you might find some of my answers... a little bit disappointing in places. I'm gonna try to take these things point by point.

Canto 7 spoilers onward.

Hong Lu's Grandfather

There are exactly two mentions of Hong Lu's Grandfather in the game as of now iirc. The scene you mention, where Hong Lu compares Dante's ramblings to his grandfather, and another mention in the Observation Logs for Pink Shoes, where Hong Lu brings up the fact that his Grandfather would scold him and pester him into keeping a diary, something he claims he used to hate but is now not so averse to.

The most interesting thing about Hong Lu's Grandfather is that there is no living grandfather figure in Dream of The Red Chamber. Baoyu is only ever mentioned to have a grandmother. This already puts some intrigue on him, as he's a complete wildcard adaptation-wise. There is no real way for us to predict what his deal is based on DOTRC.

That means that the fact that Hong Lu compares Dante's ramblings about ego and sin to how his Grandfather talks is something to note for sure. However... well, I'll get to it.

The Knowledge the Jia Family has

Canto 7 came with some major reveals about the Jia Family due to Xichun's presence and her interactions with Hong Lu. More specifically, we know roughly what kind of esoteric knowlege the Jia Family possesses, and what they're looking for.

Xichun, and by extension the rest of the Family, are aware of the existence of the Rivers - one of which being the River of Oblivion that was introduced in Canto 7, as well as, very likely, the very same River that Lobcorp would draw from using Cogito. So yes, it's not unlikely for the Jia Family to have some awareness of the more supernatural side that the human subconscious possesses. Hell, Xichun herself outright states she, in some way, can sense Bari's past presence, who need I remind you is also the Bookhunter from one of the bad endings in Library of Ruina.

However, that's not all! Xichun also reveals what exactly the Family is looking for, and what they sent out the current candidates for becoming the next Family Head for - a River that can grant immortality. Specifically, "the immortality of the mind", which Hong Lu himself describes as "to be free from aging and death".

So, hey, case closed right? We know exactly why Hong Lu was sent out now, don't we?

Well... it's not that simple. Because, unfortunately, there's some things I want to correct you on before I conclude this.

Hong Lu's Comparisons

Here's the thing with Hong Lu. Unlike what you say, he is absolutely the type to compare different unrelated things with each other. In fact, one of his major MOs during conversations is using tangentially related anecdotes to steer conversations - see how he brought up his sibling cheating at a game in response to Heathcliff doing a jab at rich people in Canto 2, or how on the empty party ship in Canto 5 he goes off on a tangent about a spooky story that's barely related to the situation at hand.

Deflection and distraction is something Hong Lu does a lot, especially right after he says things that are concerning or otherwise don't get a positive reaction out of others. His comparisons of things going on to his home is one of those kinds of deflections/distractions. In fact, I'd say it's a lot more common for him to compare things that aren't That related rather than compare things that are Actually related.

So while I do think it is something to note that Hong Lu compares Dante's ramblings to those of his Grandfather, I really don't think the connection here is nearly as strong as you posit.

Yes, we know the Jias have knowledge that most common folk in the City don't have access to, among which is the knowledge of the Rivers. It's also very likely that this is the kind of thing Hong Lu's Grandfather could go on tangents on, especially with how many of the Rivers we currently know of having effects that affect specifically the mind.

That being said, since this is Hong Lu we're talking about, I doubt the connection is as direct as his Grandfather literally rambling about the exact same topic. Again, we're talking about the guy who, upon hearing the mention of shareholders, shares an anecdote about a sibling trying to get a specific color of passport as justification for asking about whether Vergilius specifically knows the shareholder of H Corp. The connections he makes aren't usually all that strong, and that's kind of the point.

Which is where I have to talk about the elephant in the room.

Hong Lu almost definitely lied about why he left the Jia Household

See, in TKT Hong Lu shares that he was sent out by his elders to "see and experience as much of the world as possible before he returns", but... isn't it kind of strange?

That doesn't match what Xichun said about what the Family Head Candiates were sent out into the worl for. They're meant to be looking for immortality specifically, not fucking around and learning as much as they can.

And, in fact, this isn't the only thing Xichun says that clashes with Hong Lu's version of events. In fact, I'd argue it outright proves that he lied about it - she shares that the Jias are actively looking for him. If Hong Lu was really sent out to gather as many experiences and knowledge as possible, why would they want to cut that short by finding him and bringing him back by force?

That's not all in fact. This exact same story is what Hong Lu tells in his Wing IDs, the ones where it's confirmed he directly got the positions because of nepotism. But, again, that's strange. If he's meant to be experiencing the world and learning new things, why would the Jias put him in jobs that require he stays in a single specific place most of the time? K Corp Hong Lu's Uptie story outright draws attention to this, pointing out how odd it is for someone whose job involves being put in stasis in some vat for extended periods of time until they need to do some killing to have been given that job to "experience more of the world".

So, if Hong Lu is lying about why he left his home... what actually happened? Do we have any hints?

Turns out... yes. A very, very major hint in fact. Because you see, this is the Corrosion line Hong Lu says in his newly released Lasso E.G.O.

This is the only time anything Rose Hunter related calls the subject avoiding their fate a fugitive and makes a direct reference to running away. I don't think it's a coincidence.

Because if this line is a direct reference to Hong Lu, to him literally running away from his fate and escaping the Jia household, it would certainly explain some things.

Why would the Jias be out actively looking for him? Because he's not actually supposed to be out like this.

Why would his Wing Identities be put in environments where Hong Lu is primarily confined to specific locations? Because the Jias don't want him out of their sight.

Why would his claim that he's looking forward to going back home be so contradictory to how he acts and tries to prolong his time outside of the household? Because he's lying, either to himself or others, and doesn't actually want to go back.

Hell, it would even provide some context to certain other oddities about him.

Why would he know not just how effective a rich household's security system is at killing people, but also how to safely get past it (based on what he says about Wuthering Heights in Canto 6)? Because he might have had to do so himself to escape.

Why would his ID picture, likely taken right after he was found by Limbus Company, have him in a very plain tracksuit, completely unlike the traditional and fancy clothing the rest of his Family is seen wearing? Because dressing plainly would help him blend in once he got out of there.

So, yes, the Jia Family is sending out its young members to search for something supernatural within the City. However, I believe Hong Lu is an exception and wasn't supposed to be out at all.

[aydience-world]

Kai Chisaki's past headcanons

Since we won’t be getting any additional info anymore and for the sake of my own sanity, I have decided to create my own headcanon of Kai Chisaki’s past in detail and how he came to be the man we know as Overhaul based on the few crumbs we got in the manga. 

*Kai was born to a less than average income family and his parents also have similar deconstruct or reassemble quirks, although to much more limited matter.

*Overhaul is a complex quirk and young Kai initially struggled, especially with the reconstruction part. He would attempt to break down and repair his toys but fail more often than not. His parents were uncaring and did not make any effort to support or help their son improve his skill.

*A freak accident happens one day and Kai accidentally deconstructs one of his parents. Frightened, he tries to undo this accident but fails and his parent ends up completely disfigured. The remaining parent freaks out and says some atrocious things to him, similar words Overhaul used to say to Eri. (Ex. “Your existence is a curse”, etc.). I hc this happened when he was around 6-7 years old.

*Following this incident, the remaining parent takes their broken spouse and Kai to a quirk doctor, Dr Garaki, or another doctor associated with him. The doctor takes great interest in Kai’s ability and sees him as a potential candidate as one of AFO’s spare children. The parent wants to get rid of Kai asap and the doctor gladly takes him into the orphanage. Kai would be living there for several years.

*In the orphanage, Kai has to undergo a series of tests and exercises by making him use his quirk on objects, lab animals and sometimes even other children. This is where Kai begins to become more proficient in using his quirk, on both physical and living matter.

*The abandonment from his parents and the grotesque nature of the experiments causes Kai to fall into deep depression and existential crisis. At this point in his life, he hates his quirk and wonders why he was born with it, why was he born at all? He starts questioning everything. Where does this ability come from? Why do people like him exist? Why is the world this way in the first place?

*During one of the experiments, Kai brings up one of his questions to Dr Garaki, who answers what scientists currently know and while there is no concrete evidence, there are several theories, one of them being the mice theory which deduces that quirks are a virus originating from mice. He refers Kai to the small library in the orphanage.

*Kai then proceeds to read several books and science journals about this quirk phenomenon to understand the origin of quirks and the current state of humanity and studies the mice theory. To him, it all comes together. Quirks are a plague, a virus which comes from dirty animals which explains why quirks mutate so rapidly. Among all the material he has read, this had to be the truth because it made the most sense.  The reason why he’s the way he is and the reason why his parents abandoned him. He realized they are all infected and quirks don’t have any cure. This realization drives him into a frenzy and he develops a germaphobia, specifically against quirk users, since they will always remind him of the mice theory.

*Due to his phobia, Kai develops a further disgust for people and keeps to himself, avoiding other children in the orphanage.  He prefers to keep to himself and read books, learning new things about science and the world. He never formed any meaningful relationships in the orphanage.

*After some time Tenko was born, AFO began searching for the right quirk in the orphanages that he could give him to make Tenko an ultimate weapon of destruction and hate. Thanks to all the tests and experiments, Kai’s quirk catches AFO’s attention and he instructs Garaki to make a stronger copy of Overhaul but remove the reassemble part since the quirk should only be used to destroy.

*This time, Garaki needs to restrain Kai in order to extract his quirk genes to make a copy that focuses on the deconstruction part and enhance it, which would eventually become Decay. This would be done by Dr Garaki extracting blood and small pieces of flesh from Kai.

*Now, this experiment was not simply just to make a copy and remove the secondary function, the deconstruction part needed to be much more destructive at a much faster rate and unlike Overhaul, which only affects a single target, Decay has to affect multiple targets through a domino effect. It takes numerous tries to achieve this outcome. Other children would be given the copy to test it and many would perish in the creation of this quirk.

*The continuous pain and physical contact during the experiment leaves Kai in a frenzy and he completely breaks out in hives multiple times throughout the process. Regardless, the experiment continues until Decay turns out the way Garaki and AFO envision. This trauma continues until adulthood and he now breaks out in hives whenever someone touches him.

*At last, Decay is complete and AFO proceeds to give it to Tenko. Garaki doesn’t bother healing Kai because he knows Kai can fix himself. He is released back into the orphanage but has to stay there in case AFO needs any adjustments. He is still traumatized from the experiment and hates his quirk even more. He blames his quirk more than Garaki.

*Tenko’s quirk activated for the first time which meant the experiment was a success for AFO and Garaki. AFO informs Garaki about the progress and he leaves the orphanage to help him with the preparations of grooming Tenko. (Tenko was 5 years old when this happened so Kai is 12 at this point). A substitute is assigned to the orphanage during Garaki’s absence but they don’t really come through. Only a handful of kids are left since most of them died during the creation of Decay. With all the attention on Tenko, the children left at the orphanage are neglected and left to starve.

*Eventually Kai has enough and uses his quirk to escape. He runs into the night, not looking back or stopping until his legs can’t take it anymore. He wonders why he didn’t escape sooner but realizes he has nowhere to go and wanders aimlessly alone through the streets at night.

*He has a small panic attack and hives outbreak but this is overshadowed by hunger and fatigue. Eventually exhaustion takes over and he slumps down against a wall in an alley, falling asleep on the street.

*He wakes up the next morning, covered in dust and dirt from the ground but the raging hunger is too distracting to care. He looks for food but no one is willing to help this dirty kid. He considers going through trash but can’t bring himself to and goes on hungry.

*It’s already afternoon and only then does someone notice Kai. A middle-aged man calls his attention, offering to help him get home. Realizing this child doesn’t have a home, he adopts Kai and makes him part of the Shie Hassaikai.  To Kai, this act of kindness would never be forgotten and swore to himself he would repay this kindness no matter what.

*The life of a yakuza is not exactly the most suitable environment for a child/teen to grow up in, and “affection” would be shown through tough love or ’roughing up until set straight’. (The traditional Asian way).  Pops did attempt to ask Kai about his past but Kai’s answers are very vague so Pops does not pry further. The trauma doesn’t get addressed and shows some behavioral problems from him later on.

*Kai eventually befriends Kurono Hari who grew up with the Shie Hassaikai. Hari shows Kai the ropes of being a yakuza, and also gives him tips about the gangster life. Kai quickly adapts into his new home and Hari becomes his closest and most trusted friend, joining and supporting whatever Kai comes up with.

*Kai truly cherishes Pops and his new home, to the point that he gets into fights with other kids for insulting his new home, or comparing them to villains, who he considers sick. Pops thanks him for defending the Shie Hassaikai’s honor and Kai makes this his life mission. As mentioned before, Pops showed affection through a “tough love” style, so hearing praise like this was rare. Kai secretly craved to be given more appreciation and affection, which is something he never received as a child, and the reason why he goes far and beyond just to ‘repay his debt’ to Pops.

*Eventually, Kai comes to terms with his “infection”. The quirk he blamed for his abandonment and suffering is now seen as a tool he needs to use to defend the Shie Hassaikai. And he knows his quirk makes him powerful. He needs this power to protect his home and become the man the Shie Hassaikai needs. 

*Kai started wearing a facemask during his teenage years, wanting to protect himself from breathing the same air as his filthy, quirk-ridden classmates. 

*The exposure to illicit activities and fights among gangs and other gang members made Kai truly develop his fighting and social skills. He learns how to charm, manipulate and intimidate to get his way. Above all, he leaves his enemies dead or near dead after a battle, instilling fear in not only rival gangs but also his own members. He quickly becomes well-known among the yakuzas as a deadly and fearsome individual who should not be taken lightly. Pops does not approve of Kai getting into these kinds of fights but Kai considers this part of repaying his debt.

*The yakuza influence is diminishing in society as one after another organization gets disbanded. Kai is hurt from seeing their organization backed into a corner and he blames the quirk plague, believing that quirks cause further delusion to use them for heroic or villainous causes. He imagines that the world would be a more ideal place for the yakuza if there were no more quirks. No heroes to oppose them and no villains to take their rightful place in the underworld.

*He proceeds to make the Shie Hassaikai more powerful by gaining more recruits and money. He does so by getting into ring fights to garner more respect and also starts businesses such as loan sharks and drug dealing for more income. Pops also does not approve of this and calls him out.

*Pops and Kai frequently clash about his methods. Pops believes in adjusting to the new normal as a yakuza but Kai cannot agree to this and wants the yakuza to come back to power, standing by ‘the end justifies the means’ philosophy. 

*One fateful day, Pops’ daughter calls him out of the blue, panicked about her daughter’s ability, unceremoniously drops Eri off at the Shie Hassaikai’s compound and leaves to be never heard of again. Pops notices that Eri’s quirk has similarities to Kai’s and (foolishly) thinks it would be a good idea to have Kai look after her and study her, somehow hoping Kai would connect to her and have something else to do rather than engaging in criminal businesses.

*There is an instant aversion towards Eri when Kai first sees her, which is because she reminds him too much of himself. But then he studies and starts understanding her ability, realizing she could actually revert back humanity to their original state- quirkless. After all this time, all the suffering caused by quirks, the hopeless truth of the mice theory- at last there was an answer and Eri could make it all go away. He finds a way to use her quirk genes the very same way Garaki had done to him. He comes up with a plan that not only answers his questions to his former existential crisis, but also a way to help the Shie Hassaikai. If there were no more heroes or villains to oppose their place, the yakuza could rise to power again. In addition to that, they could also make so much money if they monopolized quirks. All the previous struggles he had could be fixed through Eri.

*Kai proposes this plan to Pops and we all know how that ended. When Pops threatens to kick him out, Kai falls into despair, afraid to lose the one thing that matters most to him. He puts Pops into a coma so he can proceed with his plan unopposed but he does feel very guilty about hurting him but comforts himself in the thought that all of what he’s doing is for Pops, to repay his kindness. He discards his name, going by the name of his quirk instead which he formerly detested, and wears a plague mask instead, symbolizing he is on the pursuit to cure the world.

Spoiler alert: no more arms and no more Shie Hassaikai.

[haru-dipthong]

Ep 9 of my Utena fansub is out!

しつこいのは一番嫌われるんだぜ、先輩

Stubborn people are the most hated, Sempai. (from ohtori.nu)

Learn to take a hint, vice president. (my translation)

I thought I’d talk about this line because my translation differs quite significantly from a literal translation. The ohtori scripts’ translation shown above attempts to translate the line more literally, and I think suffers greatly for it.

Let’s break down the line: しつこい is an adjective that’s used to describe people who won’t take no for an answer; connecting it to the particles のは make it describe an implicit (but missing) noun - that noun being “people”. The ohtori script chooses to translate it as “stubborn”, but I can’t help but feel this doesn’t capture the implications that しつこい has about harrassment. In fact, I couldn’t think of a good English adjective at all, which made me start thinking about alternative ways of translating the line.

Then Utena says 一番嫌われる. This means “are hated the most”. On top of the inadequate translation of しつこい, a direct translation of this creates an unnatural sounding turn of phrase. While attempting to rephrase it in a way that sounded okay, I realised I was better off trying to retranslate the line as a whole.

My translation’s number one goal was to preserve Utena’s passive aggressive suggestion that Saionji is harrassing Anthy. I think that’s the most important thing the audience should have been taking away from the Japanese, so it should be what they take away from my translation as well. “Learn to take a hint” doesn’t explicitly say that “if you keep bothering someone after they tell you No, they'll just hate you more”, but it does heavily imply it, which I think is sufficient.

The final thing I want to say about this line is how I translated “senpai”. Previously I’ve translated it as the character’s name, but here I translated it as “vice president” instead of “Saionji”. This is because I think it’s important to preserve the fact that Utena is standing up to someone with more power than them. There was also reference to Touga being the president in a line just 1.5 minutes prior, so it reinforces some of the power dynamics between those two as well.

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君の王子様っていうのは…俺みたいなやつじゃなかったか？

Your prince was just like me, wasn’t he?

I struggled a lot with this line. Touga either truly believes he is Utena’s prince based on his memory of the church, or he doesn’t know for sure but he’s trying to manipulate them into liking him anyway. Either way, he’s not just posturing to Utena and making himself out to be a prince here… he’s making himself out to be THE prince. He’s strongly suggesting that he’s the one from her memory. It was tough to find a snappy English translation that had the same strong suggestion while still staying implicit. I originally had “I remind you of your prince, don’t I?” but decided that it wasn’t a strong enough implication, and spent another long while trying out synonyms and rewording things until I came up with the translation I settled on: “Your prince was just like me, wasn’t he?”

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やつはいつも俺より先に、俺の知らない世界に行く

He was always one step ahead of me, into a strange world I didn’t know.

I don’t have much to say about the translation itself for this line (it’s a pretty straightforward direct translation), but my god this line gives me chills. I think it may be a metaphor for puberty and “maturity”. I put maturity in quotes because when it comes to these two characters, I think they both see maturity as how much of a patriarchal man you are.

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Utena: 生きてるなんて、気持ち悪いよね。 Touga: そう？ Utena: うん、気持ち悪いよ。どうせ死んじゃうのに、どうしてみんな生きてるんだろう？なんで今日までそのことを気づかなかったんだろう？永遠の物なんてあるわけないのにね。 Saionji: 永遠の物？

(below translation is from ohtori.nu)

Utena: Being alive is kind of sickening. Touga: I see… Utena: It's sickening... Why does everyone go on living knowing they'll end up dying anyway? I wonder why I never realized that until today. Eternity couldn't possibly exist, could it? Saionji: Eternity?

(below translation is my own)

Utena: Living feels wrong. Touga: Really? Utena: Yeah. It feels wrong. Everyone dies in the end. Why do they bother living? Why didn’t I realise before today? Nothing in this world lasts forever. Saionji: Nothing lasts forever?

As I’ve discussed previously, I decided early on that I would not be translating 永遠 directly as “Eternity” every time it appears. I think the theme of not wanting things to change is strong enough throughout the show that it doesn’t need to be carried by a recurring word. I’m translating it the way that flows best each time.

Utena’s bolded line literally means “permanent/eternal things don’t exist” or “there’s no such thing as something permanent/eternal” (little side note, this uses the same Japanese grammar as Juri’s “there’s no such thing as miracles”). This was actually a very easy translation. The first time I watched it, almost without thinking, I translated it as “Nothing in this world lasts forever” in my head. I think it flows super well, it works as dialogue from a small child, and captures the sadness of Utena’s loss perfectly.

However, the line does contain the words 永遠の物 (often translated as “something eternal”) and I can see how some might argue for translating this more directly, since the same phrase is used by many other characters to describe what lies inside the floating castle. I just don’t think that the upsides of this (consistent phrasing) outweigh the downsides (less natural, less thematic, less poignant). If little baby Utena suddenly starts talking about capital E Eternity, it makes her seem almost like she's privy to more of the weird lore than she actually is. It makes much more sense for her to use a phrase that a child might genuinely use if their parents had died.

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As always, thanks to @dontbe-lasanya for their fantastic editing (and words of encouragement)!

Be sure to follow for updates! For all episodes released so far, go here:

[nthspecialll]

I think that for Arthur Albert and Hamish were anchers, they were grounding stones, while everything else was going to shit those two were as silly and as stable as ever.

They were his safe space, Albert kept almost getting himself killed in silly ways while being his usual cheerful self and Arthur had to keep him safe, reminding him of young John who was just careless. Hamish was an old wise man, a person that Arthur could sit and talk to for hours about almost everything in a shadowy way yet still get answers he needed and they could go hunting, fishing, all these regular mundane things like regular men, regular people.

These two were Arthur’s breathing space, getting to do unserious things in the midst of all the chaos of Dutch going crazy and the gang splitting, for just a moment he has found someone who doesn’t judge him for who he is, someone who doesn’t know about everything going on in camp, someone who will give him a moment to just exist. A moment where he can forget not only about everything but also about the fact that he is an outlaw because that doesn’t matter when he is out fishing or saving Albert from a wolf, to them he was just... Arthur Morgan, a friend, not Arthur Morgan the outlaw.

I think when Hamish died it served as a cruel reminder that death would always come to those are near him, that he can’t save anyone, a reminder of what was going on around him and that no matter how much he tries to distract himself the life of the outlaw will catch up to him, even if the reminder came in the form of a giant boar.

[sugar-grigri]

Chainsaw Man only exists through you

The principle is simple with Chainsaw Man: there are no revelations. The keys to understanding are to be found in the previous chapters. That's why, to get the most out of your reading experience, you need to keep rereading this work. 

This chapter is just a condensed answer to the question that Part 2 sets out to answer:

Who is Chainsaw Man ? 

Let's take this chapter apart, because nothing is left to chance. 

First of all, Fujimoto reminds us that Denji is a spectator of his own reputation, that he doesn't use or instrumentalize it, unlike Fake!CSM, which relies on it.

Since the beginning of the manga, Chainsaw Man has been a controversial figure, but this point is shown more clearly in part 2, notably through the adoration young people have for him, making him a hero, and the fact that he is a dangerous demon for older people. In just two pages, this framework is recalled. 

He's not only a scapegoat (he's blamed for actions for which he's not responsible = the buildings are the result of the falling demon, and the disappearance of the aquarium is Asa's doing). 

But young people also trust him blindly. The two high-school girls don't take Nostradamus's prophecy seriously, to the point of mistaking the man of the cloth for a demon, as if they'd been passively listening to the news, not taking the threat seriously. 

This shows that Chainsaw Man is a figure, a reference point for society, on which it holds its balance. An image that fuels debate while channeling concern. 

Moving on... The next pages are just as interesting for their staging. Because TV is never shown. Denji focuses solely on the Nayuta he looks after, as if convinced that she is his sole objective. 

Nor is it insignificant that Nayuta, Makima's reincarnation, is the one who challenges this dream of normalcy.

For symbolically, her former self was the one who exploited this dream to manipulate for Denji. For me, the closer focus on Nayuta, who repeats her question, serves to emphasize that her very existence is the answer. Not only did Makima dream of normalcy too, but it was Denji's realization that he could afford to raise her standards that enabled him to fight her while saving her.

Let's go forward two more pages. Once again, not a single detail is insignificant. Meowy and the toilet make sense because they refer to a specific scene.

Power had promised Denji to touch her breasts if he saved her cat, the fulfillment of a venal dream that Denji had defended to the bat demon as a valid dream. However, it was at this point that Denji experienced his first existential crisis.

A dream is a way of projecting oneself. The more little things you dream, the quicker they come true, and the more aimless you become. This is what follows Denji throughout Part 1, the absence of meaning. What he finds in the love of his peers. 

Denji also confirms his dream in the way he zaps TV shows. Banalities bore him, and magnetically, he can't help but follow the shows that are about him. Once again, Chainsaw Man is on the other side of the TV, a spectator. 

But the page I find ABSSOLUTELY brilliant is here, the clearest answer to who Chainsaw Man is, or rather how he came to be, is here. 

These are the people who created Chainsaw Man. When Denji fights, he simply follows his instincts, not pursuing great causes. It's the people who decided to make him a scapegoat for everything that's wrong with him, the people who decided to make him a hero.

Chainsaw Man is just a machine that constantly dies and suffers, scaring away demons and bringing humans closer together. He's a figure who can't make up his mind by choice, because he's diffuse. These are the people who made Denji Chainsaw Man. In other words, the choice is not his to make.

That's why fake!CSM is profoundly an imposter.

Becoming an actor with his face uncovered, instrumentalizing the attention of humanity, speaking to it orally as such, is not Chainsaw Man.

Declaring one's goals and demands is not Chainsaw Man, since it's the public that finds them (which is also what I literally do). Involving the demon of justice when Yuko is the first to understand that having nice ideals isn't enough to become like Chainsaw Man is dishonest. Fake!CSM is Yuko's assassin, the first to understand CSM is ironic. 

Fake!CSM is there to sweep away the essence of Chainsaw Man, who is not an embodied being. Chainsaw Man is a feeling, whether of anger or admiration. He's something more diffuse and immaterial than he appears, transcending Denji himself.

Chainsaw Man is at once this television, this audience, these arguments, these demonstrations, this gossip in the corridors.

So Denji is more Chainsaw Man than impostor.

[admrlthundrbolt]

Radioactive (Furiosa x Chubby Reader)

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Being the daughter of Immortan Joe was never the paradise others thought. Though taking care of the wives made it a bit less lonely. Especially when a visit from Furiosa was never to far away.

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Hey guys, I'm back at it again. With the resent commercials for Furiosa, it reminded me of how much I love her character. So here's a bit of women loving and supporting women. Hope you enjoy.

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Immortan Joe was an evil man. He capitalized on others' torment. A wretch of a human being that believes himself to be a God. His kingdom was built on suffering and the bodies of the unfortunate.

To think that he could have sired you. The only female of his spawn. The singular child to be born in good health. Something to parade around as a symbol, that a healthy male heir could be achieved. You were a spark of hope for him. While you despised his very existence.

A solitary reprieve you did receive was being a care taker for his wives. Though you cringed at the thought of what they went through. You took solace in knowing that you did your best to make their lives a bit better. Even sharing the burden of a chastity belt. Another ‘gift’ of your father's. For you must stay pure and a true embodiment for the citizens. Just another way to keep you under his thumb.

Though you could not have been farther from him in mannerisms. You soft sweet nature was one that could rival a Saint. Soft skin and full figured, you were made to sire healthy offspring. You were to stay with the women. Keep away from the men, only to be brought out in watering ceremonies. You were a goddess of life. Even if you wish to stay to your duties and be left alone.

That was, until Furiosa came along.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Torn from her home and forced into servitude. It was an existence that she held the upmost animosity for. It may not have been Immortan Joe that stole her away from her people. But that didn't make him anymore innocent. He was a vile man, who kept around the useful. Seeking out the weak and preying on the niave.

It wasn't an honor to be an officer in his army. To work under him and bring glory, it made her sick. To know she was providing for a villain like him.

Her only solace came in being your guard. You were the only good thing to come from a beast such as him. The breaks she had between runs were spent in your company. Being assigned to you was one of the best days of her life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were helping Toast wrap her chest when Miss Giddy rushed over to you. “It is time for the water ceremony.”

Rolling your eyes, you finished the intricate knot on her top. Getting up, you apologized to the women. Though they answered with understanding smiles and shooing motions. If there was anyone else who knew just how angry your father got when he was kept waiting. It was the group of women that were expected to carry his brood.

Before leaving the room, you slipped into your chastity belt. Miss Giddy glared at the thing as she locked it. “Those things are inhumane. To think he even forces one on his own daughter.”

You placed a soothing hand on her arm. Knowing how heated she could get over such things. “It is what I must do. We all must make sacrifices for the greater good.” Feeling her tense up, you were quick to let the truth slip free. Turning to look her in the eye, you said. “Things will not always be this way. I feel that change will happen soon.”

Her gaze softened and muscles lost some of their tension. Leading you to the overlook, she passed you to your brother Rictus. Placing a hand on your back, he guided you to stand next to your father.

Nodding at you he began his speech. It was a way to inflate his ego. But the unfortunate people who had no choice at least got the reward of water by the end. He motioned you forward as he finished. Moving up, you released the dams. He always said it was a great honor for you to give them the life force.

As he slammed the levers back down you wanted to flinch. It made you feel helpless, sick to your stomach. As you give them hope, he was one step behind to stomp it out.

With the ceremony over, you stepped into the hall. You would rather wait in the shadows for your escort to return.

A hand brushed against your arm. Jumping a bit, your eyes darted towards the touch. It was a War Boy you had passed from time to time. “Sorry (Y/N), didn't mean to scare you.” He looked so regretful.

A reassuring smile slid onto your face. “It's fine.” Placing a hand on his shoulder, you gave him a soft pat. “What can I do for you?”

He face colored immediately, blushing from ear to ear. He stuttered for a few moments before gathering himself. “I've just never had the chance to speak to you.” Wringing his hands together, his eyes darted between you and the floor. “I wanted to introduce myself. I'm Slit.”

Suddenly the sound of harsh breathing appeared in the doorway. Your father stood, glaring at scene before him. How dare this mutt speak to his daughter. “(Y/N), why have you not returned to the vault.”

You forced a sweet smile at your father. You needed to get his attention away from the War Boy. You didn't need more blood on your hands. “I'm not sure father. I was waiting for Miss Giddy to return. Perhaps she is looking after one of the wives.”

At the mention of his brides, he forgot about the boy. For a bit at least. “I will take you back and check myself. I must keep what belongs to me safe.”

As he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. You couldn't help the foreboding cold sweat that settled over your. You had to keep a shudder in check as he lead you back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn't long before your father summons you again. Which was odd, they're shouldn't be another ceremony for a while. Miss Giddy brought you to his private chambers. Making your way in, you reluctantly bowed your head.

He barley spared you a glance. “I've noticed the War Boys have been paying you more attention. That is a troubling revelation. You will now be escorted by my most trusted officer. She will start her duties with you tomorrow. You are not to leave without her. You will be assigned a new guide if she is otherwise disposed. Am I understood.” It was a demand, not a suggestion.

Nodding dutifully, you shrank into yourself a bit more. “Yes sir. What time should I expect them?”

“Furiosa will be by in the afternoon. I need to explain her new task. But I expect you to be ready well before then.” He waved his hand at you dismissively.

Leaving quickly, you met up with Miss Giddy in the hall. You had been thankful that she had a valid reason to not have waited for you previously. Though having the Furiosa be your new bodyguard was enough to make your head spin. She was the only woman to make it to the level of officer in Immortan Joe's army. To think that someone so impressive would be standing by your side.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She wasn't sure how to feel at this time. Having another task forced upon her was enraging. Being the foot soldier of a mad man was an ordeal in itself. To be required to babysit his daughter in her small amount of free time. Well that was a new level of lap dog that she wasn't looking forward to.

Still, she couldn't help but remember how highly others spoke of you. You were the bringer of life and hope. A symbol of a fruitful future. She would have to wait until meeting you to see for herself just who you were.

Taking a deep breath she knocked on the vault door. It swung open slowly and she was thankful for filling her lungs. As you came into veiw she was rendered breathless. You were a vision of plush radiance. She had never seen a more perfect being.

Seeing the officer, you became as giddy as a War Boy with his first rig. She was taller than you imagined, rugged and beautiful all at once. Gesturing into the room, you greeted her warmly. “Please make yourself at home. It may well be where you spend much of your time now."

She wanted to feel bitter about the statement. But with how invitingly you put it, it was hard to not look forward to it. Taking a seat on a nearby stool, she nodded. “Thank you.”

Pulling a large cushion over, you plopped down next to her. “I do not deserve your thanks. I'm the reason you will have little to no free time. I'm sorry my father stuck you with me.”

“It's nothing to apologize for.” She waved away the idea with her mechanical hand. Your eyes widened as you took in the intricacies.

“Did you build it?” She looked away for a moment before nodding. Hovering your hand near it, you looked up at her. “May I?” Nodding again, she watched your soft fingers delicately trace over every bump and groove. You were entraced with the mechanisms. She had never felt prouder of her handy work.

“I could make you something. It wouldn't be an arm, but it could be mechanical.” Your eyes shown brightly as you nodded vigorous at the offer.

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Spending time with Furiosa was always a pleasure. You had grown close with each other. But there was one subject you both tip toed around, your father. You were wary of speaking poorly of him in front of anyone outside of the vault. It was something that was beaten into you at an early age. Still there was something about the way she held her tounge in certain moments. It made you believe that your thoughts could be more similar than many others.

You weren't going to breech the subject. Until the wives came to you in a bought of desperation. Angharad was growing rounder with his spawn. “I implore you to just speak with her. She may be our only hope.” Taking your hands in her own, she wept. “All of us, sister.”

Squeezing her hands you frowned. The truth was laid bare before you. But would she be willing to sacrifice for women she barely knew. You could feel your heart sting with the thought of her rejection. Nodding silently, you took her into your arms. Even if it destroyed you, you would save your sisters. You hoped that she would feel the same.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She was surprised when you didn't meet her at the door. Then she became frustrated with herself. Of course someone like you would have better things to do than greet her.

The Dag smiled knowingly at the officer. She had seen the way you gazed at one another. Immortan Joe had only handed you a partner on a silver platter. “She is gathering her things.”

Nodding, she stood near the door and tried not to fidget. As you emerged she gave you an unintentional look over. You were swathed in a gossamer robe and held a small basket at your side. She swept forward to take it from you. But you waved her away and smiled coyly. She was surprised when you didn't wait for Miss Giddy. She wanted to spit in the face of your father for making anyone wear those abominations. Especially forcing one on his own daughter. It was one of the few moments she was thankful for being barren.

Following close behind you, she was soon brought to an isolated cavern. It was empty, except for the sunken pool in the middle of the room. You set the basket near the pool and let the robe slip from your luscious body. If she was enamored with the sight of you a moment ago, then she was enraptured now. Stepping into the pool, you emerged yourself. She stepped forward when you didn't immediately resurface. As you breached the surface, she took another unconscious step.

You beckoned her closer. “Join me."

That snapped her from her trance. Shaking her head, she said. “I couldn't….”

Your eyes became half lidded as you folded your arms on the side of the pool. “You could, it would be a favor to me. Your ward."

Her eyes narrowed at that. “You are much more than that.”

Expression softening, you held a hand out to her. “If you are not comfortable bathing with me, I understand. Would you not sit by the water's edge and converse with me?”

She wanted to throttle herself. Here you were, like a literal wet dream in front of her. Still there was a part of her holding back and for good reason. It wouldn't do her any good trust the wrong person, not again. Nodding stiffly, she lowered herself near you.

Wadding over to the basket, pulling bottles and jars from it. Plucking a slim jar from the bunch, you returned to her. “Would you mind washing my hair?” A quick nod followed by you offering the container. Dipping your head under the water once more, you sighed. Facing away from her, you leaned back towards her. Heart hammering, she spread the liquid around her palms. The intimacy of bathing another was not lost on either of you. Still she massaged and threaded her fingers through your locks. Sinking a bit more into the water, you wanted to melt into the depths below. It was a lovely sensation, to have one you admire treat you so delicately. But there was a matter more dire than your fantasy.

“I need your help. The wives need to escape.” You yelped as her fingers jerked in your hair. You whirled to plead with her, thinking that she was against the idea. Her expression wasn't that of rage though, but bewildered curiosity. So you continued, hoping your hunch was right. “They are treated as nothing but prized breeders. I am disgusted with the way my father considers them possessions. Everyday Angharad grows closer to birthing his spawn. This is no place to raise a child.” Your eyes were wet with tears as you explain their plight.

Her stomach bubbled with hatred. For your father, who was responsible for so much suffering. For herself, to believe for even a moment that you would side with that monster. And for you, you begged for the wives. But he was doing the same to you. Even parading you around to prove he was capable of making something amazing. Really though, you were the one that had created that shine in yourself.

Lunging forward, she captured your lips with her own. Water splashed as she slid into the pool to press your bodies flush. Running your hands up her back, you pulled her closer. Trying to meld yourselves together. Pulling apart, panting desperately, you looked up at her blisteringly.

“We will travel to the Green Place.” Then she thrust her mouth at yours once more. You graciously followed her motions and enjoyed yourself thoroughly. If the Green Place was where she thought you should go, then you would trust her. You would follow anywhere she would take you.