#i also wanted more nods to other re characters but whatever

[logoleptic-since-06]

Love Thorns All Over This Rose

✮ Pairing: Satoru x Fem!Reader

✮ Content: Fem!Reader, Non-Sorcerer AU, College Setting, Mentions of Family and Financial Issues, Mentions of Other JJK Characters, Language, Smut (Fingering, Cunillingus), Slight Angst, Fluff, Dislike to Love, Mentions of Smoking, Slowburn, Not Proofread

Based On This Concept I Made

✮ A/N: I know I said I will not be writing fics for the concepts I made, but I love this trope too much to not have written it.

★ ♫ ★ ♫ ★ ♫ ★ ♫ -> Some songs this was inspired by (I know I listen to white girl music, what about it?) ✮ Also heavily inspired by the book The Deal by Elle Kennedy.

✮ Word Count: 4.6k

MDNI

“This was your last chance, Gojo, I’m gonna have to revoke your captaincy.”

“Please, coach,” Satoru’s usual cocky tone was replaced with desperation, “One more chance, please. My econ test scores came out today, and I’m confident I did well. Just consider this for once.”

Coach Yaga pauses for a second, “Listen, kid, I will consider it for now, but it’s really not on me. College rules say athletes can’t have more than three F’s. And according to that, I should bench you till you get your grades up.”

His eyes widen. “What? No, you can’t bench me, I’m your best player!”

“You know it doesn’t matter.”

“Fuck…” he murmurs in frustration. His econ test, that he has already given, is his last straw. If he fucks this one up, he will be benched until he gets his grades up. Basketball tournament season is right around the corner, and being in his senior year of college means his professional recruitments will start this season. Being benched is far from an option he wants to go for.

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

He fails.

He fucking fails the test that he was so sure he’d pass.

“And then he benched me,” he groans as he finishes telling the story to his friend group/housemates/teammates. He looks at Suguru, his oldest and closest friend, “Oh, and he made you the captain for the time being, by the way.”

Suguru simply shrugs. “Then get your grades up and re-secure your spot. I won’t even be going pro, you need this.”

"We are all rooting for you, Gojo," Haibara's over-enthusiastic voice speaks. Haibara and Nanami are in their junior year, and Haibara is probably Satoru and Suguru's biggest hype-man, despite playing in the same team.

“I’ve tried, you know I have. I don’t know what else to-”  Satoru stops as an idea strikes his head. He tilts his head towards Nanami, “Hey, Nanami.” “No,” he says simply.

“I didn’t even-”

“Whatever you ask, no.” “Tutor me, you’re like the only smart person I know.” “I’m your junior.”

“We have the same course, we study the same thing in the same class.”

“Fuck, you’re such a manchild,” Shoko’s bored voice speaks as she takes a puff from her cigarette.

“Don’t smoke in our house,” Satoru scolds her, causing her to flip him off.

“Although,” Shoko sits up from laying against the couch, “I might have someone that can help you. My roommate.”

Shoko doesn’t live with the others, but Satoru has never heard of her roommate before. “Your roommate, huh?” he repeats lazily.

Nanami snorts, “Y/N? She’s in my year and I doubt she’ll ever help him.”

Shoko nods, “You can try if you’re desperate enough.” She takes another puff of her cigarette. “Offer her tons of money.”

Satoru thinks for a second, “She can be convinced using money? That’s perfect, I have money.” 

Everyone except Haibara rolls their eyes.

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

Having finished your last assignment of the day, you relax back against your chair, taking in the hushed ambience of the library. It was a stressful, but productive day. You only relax for a split second before a wave of anxiety gushes over you– you’ve recently lost your job at the local barista due to it being shut down. It was the only place close to the campus you can get a job at, and there is no way you could afford a living on campus without a job.

You decide to get up and head to your dorm room instead of musing upon your issues. As you begin to pack your things into your tote bag, you see a tall, white-haired figure sit across from you at the table with a bright smile on his face that shows off his dimples. 

Satoru Gojo?

The star athlete is Shoko’s childhood best friend. Ever since she became your roommate in your freshman year as a sophomore, you’ve only heard tales of him and Suguru Geto. You’ve seen them around the campus, of course, but you’ve always chosen peace over any interaction with them. People flock around them like a group of fans rushing over to buy tickets for a sold-out concert. Arrogance seeps out of him every time he walks through a door, making every head turn towards him.

“Hi,” he says, looking straight into you. You look behind you, trying to see if he is talking to someone else. “No, I’m talking to you. Y/N, right?”

The sound of your name in his voice sounds weird. How did he know who you were? 

He continues, “I am–”

“I know who you are.” You cut him off for a reason that is unknown to even yourself. He tilts his head in confusion, but you can tell it's not from the knowledge of you knowing his name but rather from the fact that you are wearing an annoyed expression on your face right now. You almost feel bad but it's not like you can help it, you just lost your job and it is not easy for a girl from a middle class family to survive in this environment filled with some of the richest brats in the city, Satoru Gojo included.

“I need your help.” Every word that comes out of his mouth sounds so foreign, you wouldn’t have imagined them in your wildest dreams.

“My help?” Why is he talking to you?

“I need you to tutor me.”

“I’m sorry?”

“We are in the same classes together. I need someone to tutor me because I’m failing my classes and if I’m benched and won’t be able to play until I pass them. And if I don’t play this season, I won’t be recruited to go pro, so basically my entire future is in your hands.”

Your disturbed grimace is probably a little too noticeable, because the next words that come out of his mouth are, “Why are you making that face?” He says it with such innocent confusion, you almost give in.

“I don’t even know you,” you finally say, your voice sounds bored.

“But you are the best I can find.”

“Why can’t you hire a professional tutor?”

“Because then my parents will know, and they can’t know.”

“That’s not my problem.” “God, you’re insufferable,” he exasperates, “I’ll pay. A lot.”

That gets your attention. You raise an eyebrow. “How much?”

He sits up and excitedly takes a piece of paper and pen, writes down an amount, and slides the paper towards you.

One look at the paper and your eyes go wide. He wrote an hourly rate and as you do the quick math in your head, you realize this would pay twice the amount you got as a barista.

You clear your throat before speaking. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” he says firmly.

“And you will cooperate?”

“Of course, I need this, Y/N.” Will you ever get used to your name on his tongue?

“When and where?”

“Five days a week, so all working days. My house? It’s off campus. Give me your number, I’ll send you the location.” “I know where you live, I’ve dropped Shoko off to yours before. And yeah it works.”

“Great! Thanks so much, Y/N; you’re a lifesaver.” In the blink of an eye, he gets up and leaves you stranded at the library table.

Lifesaver… The word echoes through your head. You’ve been called that so many times, it doesn’t even mean anything anymore. You’ve been a lifesaver to your classmates for sharing your homework with them, or giving them answers during a test; you’ve been a lifesaver to your parents when you volunteered to look after your younger siblings, or when took care of dinner; you’ve been a lifesaver to your siblings for helping them study, or for solving any problem they’ve had. 

Even now, as you study in an elite university where the annual tuition is more than what your family earns in a year, you push yourself to work hard and maintain a scholarship, and work two jobs while simultaneously being a full-time student– just so you don’t have rely on someone else for anything, even if they’re your parents.

At least Satoru Gojo is willing to pay you a good amount for being a so-called ‘lifesaver’. Sure, there was a time when you thought money couldn’t buy you happiness, but spending so much time amongst your classmates made you realize it’s quite the opposite. Money brings you respect and recognition, and one day, you will have both of them, you are sure of it. For now, you are at peace with the fact that you are nothing but a phantom made up of invisible smoke, haunting the hallways until someone needs her.

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

The next day, you find yourself on the doorstep of your new student’s house. You shake off your unwanted anxiety and ring the doorbell. A few moments later, the door opens, revealing a tall figure with long luscious dark hair.

Suguru Geto, certified asshole number two (one is Gojo, of course). He looks down at you with a slight smirk. Seriously, what’s so funny? He motions you to come in.

“Satoru’s upstairs in his bedroom,” he drawls.

“Can you call him?”

He pauses for a second before answering, “Sure thing.” His gaze doesn’t avert from you as he calls out his name. Why is he so ominous? Why is Shoko friends with them?

Gojo comes out of his bedroom and stands by the stairway as he calls you up enthusiastically. You head upstairs and he leads you to his lavish bedroom and closes the door behind the two of you.

“So,” he says as he plops down on his bed, “Where do we start?”

“Let’s go through your assignments first.”

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

After an hour of tutoring, Satoru is officially done with his first tutoring session. He thinks you are a little odd with your bored yet annoyed expressions, yet he can’t stop but think you’re cute. He clearly gets the vibe that you aren’t the biggest fan of his as whenever he asked you a question about anything other than studies in the past hour, you had simply glared at him. It is also clear that you have no interest in his basketball games whatsoever.

It is also clear that you have no interest in his basketball games whatsoever. Since every question that he asks you about basketball is also either met with a glare or a “Finish this first, then we’ll talk.”

Your annoyance doesn’t matter to Satoru– if anything, he’s loving the fact that he’s getting on your nerves. It isn’t just you– annoying people has always been his specialty. Despite being the captain and the strongest player, his cheery demeanor is always met with eye rolls or groans of displeasure. 

Sure, girls around him would die to be with him– even for a moment– but if it’s not for sleeping around, he isn’t quite ever wanted. He tells himself he is okay with it, that if they don’t want him, he will turn himself into someone they need. Which is exactly what he did; and now, without him, the team will fall apart.

Once the tutoring session is over, he hits you with a similar question, a cheeky grin plastered on his beautiful face. “So, you ever been to any of our games?”

“No,” you answer simply.

“Why not?”

“I’m not interested in sports.”

“None at all?”

“None at all.”

“What ECAs did you have in highschool?” You look up at him. “I had plenty. Why do you wanna know?”

He shrugs. “Curiosity.” You sigh. “I was in the debate club, I worked for the school magazine, hosted multiple events, wrote articles, did internships, signed up for a bunch of award programs.”

Satoru’s eyes go wide. “And your SATs?”

“1560.”

Fuck. Satoru back in highschool was even bigger of a menace than he is now. With an SAT score of 1230 and basketball as the only ECA, it almost seems unfair to him now that both you and him are in the same university– one earned while the other given. Satoru never feels bad for exploiting his family’s money, after all, that’s the only thing they are willing to give him. But seeing someone work this hard– even harder than Nanami– to get to where they are is something Satoru can’t help but be impressed by.

And Satoru isn’t one to be impressed easily.

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

A few weeks pass in a breeze and the air now carries the hint of winter, the first fall of snow just around the corner. Students are locked inside their rooms, their heads buried in textbooks trying to prepare for the upcoming exams.

“You better pass this one, Gojo,” you tell him one day as you both are sitting in his room.

“Yes, ma’am.” He makes a salute gesture, causing you to stifle a small smile.

“I don’t wanna be that person, but why don’t you smile much?” His question takes you aback. “I’m not saying you should smile more; do whatever you want. I’m just asking why.”

You shrug simply, the guards you have around you have weakened a little in the past few weeks, but they’re not completely shattered. “I don’t smile without a reason.”

“I crack jokes.”

“You’re not funny.”

He rolls his eyes with a slight smirk tugging up his mouth.

You check the time and your eyes widen. “How long have I been here for?”

He leans back against his chair, “Almost three hours.”

“Shit, I was gonna call Shoko to come pick me up.”

He laughs when he hears that. “Yeah, good luck with that. It’s exam season, she definitely has her phone turned off right now.” Catching the worried expression on your face, he adds, “Do you want me to drop you off?”

You think for a while, trying to figure out other possibilities. Once you fail to do so, you feel your guards cracking a little more as you answer, “Okay.”

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

The drive from his house to your campus dorm is a short one. Yet, something in you makes you want to stir up a conversation.

“So what made you start playing basketball?”

His eyes don’t drift from the road when he answers. “You know my dad, right? He was a professional basketball player. It’s all I’ve known ever since I can remember.”

You won’t admit it out loud, but you are impressed to see him be so passionate about something. “So, you’re close to your dad?”

The chuckle he lets out sounds almost bitter. “No, no, I’m not. I was sent to a boarding school when I was very young. Grew up there. Met Suguru and Shoko. Been home very less. My school’s coach was more of a father figure than my own dad ever was.”

Something pangs in your chest as you let his words sink in. “I’m sorry…”

“Nah, don’t be. It’s cool, you know? My parents were too busy with their own lives, I was busy with mine– it’s just what I’m used to.”

“So you don’t contact them?”

“When I need something, sure.” He pauses for a second. “I know what you think of me, okay?” His voice has a hint of sincerity now. “You think of me as some spoiled brat who loves to spend daddy’s money. And you know what? You’re absolutely right. I am that, shamelessly. But this is only because I realized at a very early age that money was the only way they would be present in my life, so I decided to exploit the shit out of it.”

You don’t have an answer to what he said. His experience of family is unique and unrelatable to you in every way. “I would’ve done the same if I were in your shoes,” you say, not quite believing your words. “You shouldn’t feel bad. You’re doing a great job.”

He looks at you like you hung the moon. “You think so?”

You try to hide your surprise at his reaction. “Yeah, I mean, you’re the captain of the team and the strongest player. You’ve been working so hard to get your grades up this semester, I’ve seen your dedication.” 

He smiles at you– not his usual cheeky smirk, but a genuine, heartfelt smile. “Thanks, Y/N.”

“Don’t thank me, Gojo, I’m just stating an observation.”

“Satoru.”

“What?”

“Call me Satoru. It’s what my friends call me.”

You tilt your head to the side. “Are we friends?”

He raises an eyebrow. “You were nice to me just now. I doubt you’re nice to a lot of people.”

“Well…” you trail off.

“Well…?” he echoes as he stops his car in front of my dorm building. 

You unbuckle my seatbelt. “Maybe a conversation for another day. Thanks for the ride, Go– Satoru.”

He smiles for a split second before it is wiped away and replaced with a pondering expression. “Wait–”

You stop before you can open the car door. “Yeah?”

“Let me walk you to your room.”

It’s your turn to smile now. “I can walk myself to the dorm, Satoru.”

“It’s late.”

“I’m a big girl.”

“Come on.”

He’s so cute– wait what? Why would your mind go there? That’s Satoru Gojo, a certified college whore.

“Fine, walk me to my dorm room,” you hear yourself say. What is wrong with you?

The two of you get out of the car and begin to walk towards the building gate. The midnight air sways against your face while your cardigan protects the rest of your body. The place is quiet, only crickets heard amongst the trees. The moonlight reflects on the cars parked in the parking lot as you and Satoru walk through it.

“So you were saying?” He breaks the silence.

“What?”

“You said ‘Well…’,” he points out.

You chuckle softly as you look away to the ground. “Nothing really… you said you doubt I’m nice to a lot of people; I was gonna say I don’t talk to a lot of people to begin with.”

He looks at you with his head tilted in confusion. “Why’s that?”

You shrug. “Not a lot of people approach me here, you know? I just… exist, I guess. I mean, I’ve got Shoko. I talk to Nanami and Utahime sometimes. I’m not completely friendless, so that’s nice.”

“Three people in a college with around 20,000 students isn’t really… you know…” He trails off.

You feel the walls around you crumble a little as you speak. “I know, I know. But like I said, no one approaches me, which makes sense. And I’m not one to randomly approach people. Not great with social cues.”

He nods thoughtfully. “Why would you say it makes sense for no one to approach you?”

Why was he asking you so many questions? You can’t remember the last time someone had been interested in getting to know you in this way.

“I’m a scholarship student, I’m not exactly…” You try to think of a word, “relevant in your social hierarchy.”

He is quiet after you say that, probably trying to figure out how to respond to that. So instead, you continue, “It doesn’t matter to me. I always think that if they don’t want me, I’ll make myself needed. I’ll become an important person. My parents may not be rich, but who says I can’t be?”

“So you’re really ambitious,” he says. “I mean, I kind of got that from er– your constant hustle.”

You laugh at his remark, appreciating his humor instead of showing you pity like most would. 

The two of you begin to walk up the stairs to your floor when he asks, “Which floor is it again?”

“Second.”

“Right… I’ve never been here. Shoko’s always coming over to ours to hang out.”

“The three of you must be really close.” He nods. “Yeah, well, five now actually. Nanami and Haibara came along during our sophomore year when we moved in together. They are good athletes, so I thought keeping them close would be good for the team.”

You nod as you reach your dorm room and ring the doorbell. When Shoko doesn’t answer, Satoru says, “She’s probably at the library. Or with Suguru.”

You nod at the possibility as you take out your copy of the keys. The jingling echoes through the empty hallway. You unlock the door to reveal your room filled with darkness. Turning on the lights, you politely invite Satoru in, to which he happily obliges.

He casually plops down on your bed, his legs swinging down.

“Make yourself at home, don’t be shy,” you say sarcastically. His phone rings. When he picks it up, you watch his demeanor change as the person on the other side of the phone speaks.

“No, I told you guys to not attend any parties for a month,” he says in a serious tone that’s very unlike him. “We have practice first thing in the morning every day before the season starts, and I will not stand any mishaps.”

Listening to him scold his teammates and watching him be a good captain stirs something unknown in you. It’s so attractive for one to be this responsible and laidback at the same time. Your eyes roam around his big biceps, stopping at the hand that holds the phone against his ear. He has nice hands, you think, wondering how it might feel inside you. 

Snap out of it.

You will not throw yourself to him only to be tossed aside. You remind yourself why you’re with him– for a job. A deal that benefits the both of you equally. Nothing more, nothing less.

Then why did you tell him things you’ve never admitted to anyone?

What bothers you more is the fact that he was so interested in getting to know you. The way he is always so grounded around you makes you wonder if your previous perception of him being an arrogant asshole was just a misconception.

He hangs up the phone and smiles sheepishly at you, his dimples denting his cheeks. “Sorry,” he says. “It was Haibara.”

“It’s fine,” you say as you subconsciously move forward and sit beside him on your bed.

“Hi,” he says as his blue eyes pierce through you.

“Hi,” you smile back at him, unable to stop yourself from wondering what the hell he was doing in your dorm room of all places he could be right now. “Did you have to be somewhere?”

He scrunches his brows. “No, why?”

“No, I thought Haibara needed you or something.”

“Oh no, that’s been dealt with, don’t worry.”

When did you both sit so close together? You can almost feel his breath against your skin. “You have practice early in the morning.”

“I can function with less sleep.” He is almost too quick to answer.

Your faces are only inches away when his eyes fall to your lips. You close your eyes and feel his lips brush against yours. You kiss him back immediately. 

Once you give him the green light, he deepens the kiss and you let out a low moan. His tongue enters your mouth as he hovers over you on the bed with you lying on your back. He trails his kisses down your jaw while pressing down to your tit with one hand.

His other hand trails to your inner thighs and you feel the heat pool between your legs. You let out a needy gasp, causing him to contact his lips against yours again while his hand unbuttons your jeans and slides inside them. He rubs your clothed pussy and intoxicated bliss spreads over you.

“Ahh, fuck, Satoru,” you whine. He takes that as a sign and slips his fingers inside your panties. Your eyes roll back when you feel two fingers thrust inside you while his thumb works on your clit.

“Nghh, Satoru, fuck, hahh don’t stop,” you don’t even know how loud you’re being, neither do you care right now.

As you say that, he takes his hand out of your pants, which makes you squirm needily. He positions himself such that he is facing between your legs. He reaches for the hem of your jeans as you lift your hips up and he pulls them down, followed by your panties, leaving your bottom bare in front of him. 

He finally brings his face closer to your heat and licks a long stripe along the slit your pussy. You moan out in utter pleasure, spreading your legs further for better access. He begins to nibble at your clit, making you see splashes of euphoria in front your eyes. The pleasure is too all-consuming for you to even think of what’s right or wrong, of what you should or should not be doing. And you couldn’t be bothered to care about any of it right now. 

He adds two fingers deep in your cunt, hitting the g-spot repeatedly as his mouth sucks on your clit. You feel the pressure build up like waves. “So close, Satoru, don’t stop,” you cry out. The waves crash over the shore with a loud moan escaping your lips. 

You lay there panting, recovering from what you would call the best orgasm you’ve had in your life, as he sits up and looks down at you, a proud expression masking that pretty face of his, now all glistening in your juices.

The realization of what you just did hits you the moment the high dies down. You quickly close your legs and sit up, trying to find your panties. 

“What happened?” Satoru asks in a concerned tone. You ignore him and put your underwear on. 

Once you are done, you finally look at him. “Get out,” you state simply.

“What?”

“You heard me. Get out.”

“Did you not like it?”

“Gojo, leave.”

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong!”

“What’s wrong?” you echo his words. “Everything about this is wrong. I’m your tutor. I work for you.”

“So?”

“So, we shouldn’t be doing this. It’s inappropriate.”

“Are you serious? I thought we–”

“No, I don’t know why I told you so much about myself. Starting tomorrow, everything is strictly professional, or I’m gonna have to quit.”

“Y/N, you can’t just say that, you know that, right?” Satoru sounds determined.

“Yes, I very much can. I’m sorry but I simply won’t let you think you can have me like that just because you’re you.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“What I mean is that I know you hook up with like hundreds of girls, and I just don’t want to be another name you tick off on your list.”

He looks exasperated. “You think that’s what you are? A name on a list? First of all, I don’t have a fucking list. Secondly, I don’t hook up with hundreds of girls. I haven’t done that since freshman year.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I don’t have the time to hook up with anyone.”

“You haven’t had sex since your freshman year?” Your voice is softer now.

“Not once.”

“Then why did you…” You don’t have to finish the sentence for him to understand it.

“Because I wanted to.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, really. It felt right.”

You would be lying if you say it didn’t feel right for you. But you don’t tell him that. Instead you ask, “Since when have you wanted to?”

He reveals his dimples at that question, “Since you asked me if I would cooperate with you if you tutored me.”

This brings a chuckle to your voice. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, something about you bossing me around was… you know.”

You laugh at his words. “You’re a dumbass,” you say as you lean forward and take his lips to yours.

[cheri-2047]

May I request some fluff with Alhaitham and an overworked and stressed reader who just won't put the book down due to an upcoming exam 😔💪🏻 + they are struggling with motivation to study but they just NEED to study now or they'll fail or get a low grade

OF COURSE!! Thank you for requesting !! Also I’m assuming you have an exam so wishing you good luck

Alhaitham x Stressed Reader

WARNINGS: none aside from cursing, This is all fluff

CHARACTERS: Alhaitham, (im gonna write this as if alhaitham and reader are still in college btw !! Both of you are dating in this AU and dormmates too)

Okay I’m gonna write headcanons and then a mini oneshot after <3

please tell me if I accidentally mischaracterized him I’m really sorry in advance if I do 😔

Alhaitham would be telling you the entire afternoon that day to drink water, eat a snack and most importantly, take a break

Alhaitham would be stubborn at these times and making SURE that you are drinking water and taking care of yourself and all

Alhaitham practically tries to pull you away from your desk, but he fails. Instead just trying to keep having a conversation as an attempt to get you to get away from your studies, even if just for a minute

Alhaitham tríes to wait for you, but you insist he goes to bed ahead. He still tries to wait, while he lays down alone, clearly worried about you though having the same expression.

Alhaitham gets out of bed every once in awhile to check if you’re done, but everyte he does, he just receives the same response. “5 more minutes…”

Eventually he just stays in bed slightly frustrated and Alhaitham falls asleep waiting, that is, until he hears your frustrated mumbles from your desk.

“Damn it damn it! Why can’t I get it!”

You mumbled softly to yourself. No matter how many hours of hard work you’ve done today, you can’t seem to process any of the information.

“Fuck!”

You buried your head in your arms in frustration, clenching your fist tightly. As suddenly you felt someone trying to unclench it for you.

You flinched once you felt the touch, but once you turned, you saw your boyfriend alhaitham.

“It’s 1:07… you should be having some rest.”

He says, starting to put away your books.

“Nono! Just 5-“

“5 more minutes? Darling it’s been 5 hours. Please rest.”

He starts to pull you out of your chair, but you’re stubborn. You say no once more in a slightly pissed tone due to overworking the entire day.

“Y/n. Im serious.”

“I am too… just please…”

He saw the desperation in your eyes, but instead he pulled you into a hug, as you hurried your face into his shoulder.

“Look, the exam is in a few days correct?”

You nod

“And how much material have you gone through?”

“I don’t know”

“And you’re only starting to study now? Why?”

“I didn’t have motivation all week..I couldn’t bring myself to do it..”

You started getting ready for a scolding, but instead ended up with a kiss on your forehead.

“You ran out of motivation all week and so now that you have it, you don’t want to lose it, correct?”

You nod. As your boyfriend sighs.

“And do you remember anything you’ve been studying?”

To your shame, you shook your head.

“No..”

Alhaitham pulls away from the hug as he cups your cheek.

“Let’s have a deal, you get some rest today and I’ll study and teach you the topics myself tomorrow morning, deal?”

“But-“

“No buts, would you rather you passed out unwillingly or this?”

“…”

“That’s right, thought so.”

He pulled you into the bed, as he layed you down next to him.

“Please don’t do this again..if you need motivation then..I’ll help you, I’ll do whatever just take care of yourself please.”

He kissed your cheek goodnight as both of you slept in each others arms.

Alhaitham teaches you the topics the next day and you understand it. He tells you some study tips and motivation tips like:

Make flash cards and review them before the exam

Re-type it, NO copy pasting

Reading the text aloud to someone else

Quiz yourself and your friends <3

You can also make reviewers for you and your friends to motivate you to keep giving them some

Alhaitham will be happy and proud of u <3 good luck on your exams !! (These tips are my personal study tips that got me through the school year HAHAHAHAH, they work for me at least. Good luck again !!)

[aris-lil-library]

VARIOUS RE CHARACTERS REACTING TO FRIENDLY ZOMBIE READER (G/N)

Brought to you by your local zombiekin <3 (Fun fact, was originally planning on adding Wesker- but I wanted to get this out sometime within the month lolol)

Also please note, I have not seen a full playthrough of Re1R or Re1- Chris might be OOC.

Characters Included:

Leon Kennedy (Re2R)

Claire Redfield (Re2R)

Jill Valentine (Re3R)

Carlos Oliveira (Re3R)

Chris Redfield (Re1R)

Content Warnings Included:

Mentions of body horror (brief, but still applies to reader themselves.)

Mentions of gore/death (nothing explicit.)

The Sewers. (They deserve their own trigger warning /hj)

Mention of eye touching/prodding

Leon Kennedy:

After having cleared the hallways of the Racoon City Police Department and coming face to face with some disgusting freaks of nature named Lickers, Leon thought he had seen it all. Honestly, he didn’t imagine there was anything new that could surprise him in this goddamn place until he made eye contact with you.

Well.. if you can call staring at the dangling eye hanging out of your socket “eye contact”.

He instinctively raised his gun, expecting to see you rise to your feet, stumble over to him and try to nom his neck like all the other undead he’d seen so far- but to his (pleasant) surprise, that didn’t happen. In some odd groan you spit out, which he assumed was your attempt at speech, you backed away from him. Arms raised as if to show you didn’t mean to cause him harm.

It was odd to say at the very least. He kept his aim marked at the dead center of your head, though he hesitated pulling the trigger now. Your right hand (which Leon noted had a nasty looking chunk taken out of it) drifted down to a bloodied ID badge hanging from your breast pocket.

Though it was hard to read, Leon squinted out the words “Assistant Secretary” in bolded letters at the top of your ID.

He looked back up at you, slowly lowering his gun as he noticed the almost.. human-like quality of fear in your eyes. He could’ve sworn he even saw your shoulders sag slightly with relief as he tucked his gun into his holster.

“Hey.. can you.. understand me?” Leon’s words paused at times as he debated internally if he was really trying to communicate with a dead person. He could feel his stomach sink slightly as you slowly nodded back, cautious that he’d still shoot.

“What the hell.. How are you even- no wait- you’re infected and you can still?- What??”

You watched as Leon’s brows furrowed and his expressions cycled through confusion, disbelief, intrigue and right back to absolute bewilderment. It was almost funny and you almost tried to smile at him- before remembering the fact that your jaw had gotten unhinged a while ago and it’d likely confuse the poor guy more.

After a very long and arduous time of trying to explain to the baby-faced police officer how exactly you got bit and how you locked yourself in this room and how even you didn’t know how you kept your humanity- it just ended up in Leon sitting on the floor, scratching his head.

“I really don’t understand what you’re trying to tell me. I’m sorry.” You grumbled out a brief noise of annoyance before just accepting it and sitting on the ground across from him.

There was an awkward silence between the two of you for a while before Leon spoke up.

“Hey look. I know you’re already bit and all but maybe we can find you some help? There’s a hospital in the city- there has to be someone who can fix.. uh.. whatever you’ve got going on here, right?” He even sounded unsure of the words he was saying, yet the caring smile etched onto his nervous features was enough to convince you that you should come with him.

Not particularly like you believed you could be cured, but more as in “This poor kind boy will get killed if someone’s not looking out for him.”

So you gave a polite nod, rummaging through what little supplies you saved in here before heading out of your sanctuary with Leon- glad you’d met someone so nice in this mess.

Claire Redfield:

Despite having been caught in the middle of a zombie outbreak and getting turned yourself, undead life was surprisingly calm. You had shuffled your way down into the sewers after getting bit, accepting your fate as you felt your consciousness slowly slip away as blood drained out of the bite on your leg- only to wake up a few hours later a lot paler and surprisingly awake.

Part of you was frustrated you had somehow miraculously lived through transforming into a zombie because of course you would be the unlucky schmuck who would stay sentient throughout something like that. Only your level of sheer bad luck would allow that.

It turned out being down here wasn’t too bad if you ignored the weird mutated masses of flesh in the water, the massive hulking figure of a presumably mutated man that would scream in agony every hour or so and the other rotting corpses surrounding you. Otherwise, it was nice.

You had honestly thought that you were going to live the rest of your undead life here. It’s not like being on the surface is any better at the moment- though you had to admit, it got boring really quickly.

That’s why when you heard a small repetitive bang of a pistol fire off- you couldn’t help but let your curiosity win. You peaked around a corner, just dark enough so whoever was firing couldn’t see you, to take a glance at whatever unlucky person slipped down here.

She couldn’t have been past her early twenties, you thought, her younger features and nervous look spoke volumes. Her eyes had a certain steely resolve to them though, which would’ve impressed you if she didn’t stare directly at you. Previously fascinating eyes now had your stomach drop as she raised her gun at you preparing to fire.

You scrambled away down the hall you came from, legs slightly slipping from the slimy layer on the floor that you really didn’t want to think about at the moment.

Claire had started giving chase after you, worried you were possibly another survivor that she had scared off with her reckless gun waving.

“H-Hey! Wait up!” She yelled out, following your shadow throughout the gross sewers.

You had run yourself into a dead end- panicking and turning around to see her approaching rapidly. Without a way to defend yourself, you simply put your arms in front of your face to shield it as you shut your eyes tightly- preparing to get shot.

Clacking sounds of boots hitting the wet floor filled your ears as Claire stopped just a few feet away from you. She huffed out in exhaustion, leaned over to catch her breath.

“I’m.. I’m sorry- jeez hold on. About.. About scaring you. I didn’t know there were other survivors down here. You alright?” She looked up at you, briefly scanning over your body.

She noted how you looked worse for wear (but then again, so did she) and the large, infected looking wound on your leg. Her face shifted into one of pity as she looked back up at your face.

“Oh.. Is.. Is that why you ran from me?” You nodded, slowly lowering your arms to gauge her expression. It’s funny, she looked a lot more sweet up close. Your eyes met hers and you almost felt better. She looked at you with such.. compassion, even though you were infected.

Claire felt an immense sense of pity overwhelm her. She must’ve scared the living daylights out of you upon chasing you down like a rabid animal. As her gaze met yours though, she realized how glossy your eyes looked- how pale your skin was. You were probably already dead considering how familiar you looked compared to other zombies she had seen.

“I don’t want to hurt you, okay? You seem like a nice.. person? Zombie? I’m not fully sure what to call you.” Her tone was very soft, almost like a gentle elder sister, it was soothing to hear after all the harsh groans and grumbles you’d been hearing from the other undead around you.

“I think that it’ll be beneficial for us to work together. I have a friend who’s a police officer who I’m trying to meet up with. Maybe we can all find a way to escape together and you could get some help at a hospital out of this town. Is that okay?”

It wasn’t like you really had a reason to say no and the way she kept her voice so polite and calm definitely swayed your choice. With a nervous step forward, you precariously nodded.

“Perfect. My name’s Claire. Claire Redfield. It’s nice to meet you.”

Jill Valentine:

Jill was getting pretty damned tired of this zombie shit. First at Arklay, now in Racoon City the day before she was supposed to move out of this hellhole. It was just starting to get ridiculous and if she still believed in a God, she would’ve thought they had it out for her.

As she turned a hard left, narrowly avoiding a zombie grasping and hobbling towards her- Jill entered the subway company’s office. Thankfully it was empty, Jill thought to herself as she pushed the door leading into the traffic control system’s room only to have the door get pushed right back into her face.

…

What the fuck??

Jill grabbed her knife from the sheath on her side and rammed the door open- fully expecting to have to fight hand to hand, only to meet your terrified gaze as you fell onto the floor.

She honestly couldn’t tell if you were infected or not- you looked like you’d been drained dry of all your blood, yet your expressions were so human. Hands raised, slightly shaking (Jill wasn’t sure if that was due to fear or the fact your right hand was hanging on by a few tendons of muscle.)

You mumbled out a shrill and raspy yelp, trying to communicate as best you could that somehow you were still conscious, even in this form.

Jill wasn’t exactly sure what to do with you, knuckles tensing and untensing around the handle of her knife. She almost felt guilt thinking about stabbing you now. Her body went taut as she saw you stumble up and head to the subway panel. You waved your hands, pointing back and forth at the subway map and its controls.

“You.. know how to work that?” Jill hesitated with her words, almost embarrassed that she was trying to communicate with.. a zombie as far as she could tell.

Well that was until you nodded very rapidly, as if trying to prove you had some worth.

So with a frustrated sigh, Jill said “Okay, I need to go to Fox Park. Figure it out.”

Jill watched you with interest as you flipped through the switches expertly, going through the path so quickly she had to assume you worked here before.. whatever happened to you. You figured it out so quickly and turned back to her, as if expecting her to allow you to follow her to wherever she was headed.

Part of her really didn’t want to bring back an infected to the subway but you had the biggest eyes and were practically pleading.

“No- you can’t. God just..” Bigger puppy dog eyes.

“NO. You’ll cause too much commotion! I can’t-”

“Hey Jill- you got that subway route finished?”

Your eyes instantly went to the radio buzzing from her shoulder and she made a mental note to punch Carlos when she got back.

“Yes.. Thanks to the help of a.. oddly friendly zombie.”

You could hear him cackle over the other side of the radio. “You’re joking- right?”

“I wish I was.” Jill sighed out and explained to Carlos that she actually met a nice zombie and spent about 10 minutes convincing him and the other U.B.C.S members to let you follow and that she swears she’ll keep an eye on you and please please please please let her keep you-

Mikhail begrudgingly agrees after her arguing that she should be able to keep you around and that you’ve proven yourself to be helpful- but is told that you’ll be staying with Carlos when you both return to not endanger the civilians and to truly prove yourself.

Jill didn’t know why, but she felt the need to protect you. Maybe it was some lingering savior complex or survivor's guilt but she ignored that for now and walked alongside you back to the subway station.

Carlos Oliveira

As Jill arrived with you in tow, Carlos did notice how surprisingly calm and patient you were with everyone. You clung onto Jill for a little while- being careful to not go too far into the train- in the off chance someone would see you and freak out.

While Carlos trusted Jill’s choice in trusting you, most of the other U.B.C.S members were.. not as happy with the platoon leader’s choice in allowing you to stay. Tyrell was very obvious about his lack of faith in your unwillingness to cannibalize them and informally ordered you to stick near Carlos.

Carlos didn’t mind to be honest. Though, it was a little perturbing to see the way your flesh loosely hung on in some places. He tried his best to be polite and not stare as it’d be “ungentlemanly” of him.

You served to be pretty helpful in the RPD, keeping an eye out for anything he might’ve missed (zombies or items.) You even took a few solid hits for him which may have left you a little more gory in some places over before- but Carlos just appreciated the gesture.

“So, tell me, how’d you end up like that?”

“…”

“Oh right. Can’t talk. Sorry.”

A simple nod or shake of your head was enough to satisfy any base questions he had for you– plus his quips about certain events like the locked doors kept the mood light and cheery.

It was honestly a lot of easy communication between you two- Carlos read you very well and normally a simple tug on his arm or small grunt would do the trick if he truly missed something.

Carlos did ask some weird things though-

“Can you like.. see outta the hanging eyeball?”

You didn’t really think about it before but now that you focused on it- you really couldn’t. With an experimental prod, Carlos watched in horror as you pushed it back into its socket to see that’d change anything. It didn’t but it was worth a shot.

He (somewhat disturbed, somewhat politely) asked you never do anything like that in front of him again.

Fair enough.

Chris Redfield

This entire mansion situation was completely overwhelming for Chris- everything was so out of place and nothing made sense. Grappling with the concept of zombies being a real thing, Umbrella Corp actually being tied to this goddamn place somehow and the Bravo Team being completely wiped out along with his other colleagues being God knows where was just getting too much to handle.

Maybe that's why he didn't even take a second glance at you when you rolled a flashlight next to him as he sat on the ground of the grimy hallway.

It took him a second to fully process what just happened- his eyes running over the slimy flesh of your body that looked rotten and gross. You just simply stared back at him, hollow eyes in hollow sockets waiting for a response.

“.. Hello?”

You waved back in response, watching as Chris’ face cringed as your bones cracked and popped from the movement.

“That's new. Most of your friends seem to not be interested in conversation, eh?”

Chris was pretty sure he was losing it- he knew he should be grabbing his gun and getting rid of this thing in front of him before it attacked instead of making conversation. Yet something felt different about this one.

You nodded your head slowly and made trepidatious steps towards Chris. Testing his willingness to let you near- he did move his hand near his knife, which you took as a warning and stepped back.

He looked down at the flashlight you rolled towards his side and palmed it. It was essentially a gift- and you didn't seem to want to harm him.

“Listen. I need help finding my friends. They're somewhere in this mansion. This place is just so confusing to get through- will you help me out?”

You seemed to hesitate for a second, feet lingering in place as if trying to see if it was a trap. Chris almost found it funny, the both of you unsure of the other and still needing help to get out of here in one piece.

You gave a weary nod to him before stepping closer and offering your hand to help him up.

Chris shuddered a little as he felt the bone through your frail, decaying flesh and pulled himself up with your help.

An odd duo you two made, but certainly two is better than one in this situation.

[moirindeclermont]

Happy Sunday to everyone and thank to the new people who followed me since last night. I hope you'll stay for the long run.

Today is Day 6 of my Polín Kinktober and today the prompts are Voice Kink and Punishment. Enjoy!

Pen was being a tease that night.

Constantly touching him one moment, then dancing with someone else, but when he saw some Lord he didn't know kissing her hand and looking at her like she was a meal, he was done for the evening.

He took him a couple of steps to meet her halfway, she was still talking with him, and he interjected the conversation.

"I'm so sorry to interrupt, I must take my wife back to our home," he said, his voice clear he was not sorry at all.

Pen was clearly teasing him because if she was really interested in what Lord Who Knows had to say, she would it made clear to him. Instead, she went with him, apparently dutiful. Her light smirk invisible to anyone but him. Little Miss wanted to play it seemed. Well, two could play that game. They went on the carriage and then he was kissing her, touching her but never enough, only over the layers and without intentions of escalating their intimacy. Colin saw the moment Pen recognized his game.

They come back home and went straight to their bedroom. He was the one preparing her to bed these days, and he punished her by removing each piece of clothes the most efficient way possible, while still teasing her throughout.

He then undress himself and put s pijama on, something he rarely bother but he had a point to make.

He took a book that someone would define as scandalous and went straight to bed, she on the other side, waiting for him.

"I thought I could read you some pages from my book," he said, his voice going deeper, just the way she loved.

She nodded. Usually they did this: Colin started to read and they re-enact whatever he wrote about. They also discovered his voice was surprisingly effective in arousing her. He had planned a perfect revenge.

He started reading, his voice going down and almost a whisper. The entry was about a woman making love with his lover and it was very detailed.

Pen was about to touch herself when he blocked her wrist. "No, wife. Seeing you enjoying teasing me at social events, I should enjoy teasing you here. You can't touch me or yourself until I finished reading."

She looked like she wanted to discuss him, so he tilted her chin. "Understood?"

She nodded. "If you are going to be a good girl and take your punishment well, I'll may be persuaded to give what you're seeking, Pen," he added then, knowing how the competitiveness from his family was also hers nowadays.

He sat back and restarted his reading, one eye keeping close on her. It was just short of five pages, but he could see her struggling. His voice was driving her mad, and he could see her trying to stay still, letting his voice washing over her.

Her nipples were hard under the night gown and he was getting she was wet as well. He was growing hard too, hoping she would obey him because he really wanted to sink into her.

Pen did moan softy when he read about how the main character was taking it so well from her love interest. She was clearly imagining herself and him and he dropped his voice even more, reading the male character line: "Yes, my love. You take me so well. This is all for you".

He whispered the line directly into her ear, making her shiver. He put away the book, more interested in playing with her instead.

"Are you wet, wife?" She nodded, locking eyes with him. She was pleading him to do something, anything. Colin smirked.

"Were you a little tease before?" She tried to say no, but looked at him as he was removing his top layer and she instead nodded again.

"We're you hoping I'd give it t you at the ball?" He asked.

They already sneaked in more than one occasion into a niche or a garden at a social event. She looked at him again before nodding.

"You know you can ask, right? Instead, you were trying to drive me mad." He removed also the bottom, his hard member causing Pen to licking her lips.

"Answer me, Pen," he said, making her moan louder this time.

"Yes. Yes, Colin. I was teasing you. I thought of asking but it was more fun teasing..." She said with a whisper, and kissed her.

"Very good love. Was it so difficult to say?"

She whimpered, trying to get closer.

"Now, undress yourself. You took the first part of your punishment well enough. Now, for the second part. I'll take you from behind, I don't think your core needs more preparation... I can tel how soaked you are. And then, if you didn't come, I'm going to flip you and make love. You'll come then." By the last sentence his vice was barely spoken and stille shivered.

She undressed herself and turned around.

He caressed her back with his hands, before squeezing lightly her bosom. Then, further down, where he contradicted himself, testing if she was ready for him. She was more than ready.

He slammed into her with a deep thrust, earning a gasp.

"Remember, you can't come."

And then, he wrecked her.

Fast, deep, at the perfect angle to hit her special spot. She was a mess. Moaning and whimpering, eve sobbing at one point. He was merciless.

"Are. You. A. Tease?" He asked, every word a thrust.

"Answer me." He said giving a light slap on her derriere.

"Yes. Yes. I'm a tease, Colin." She gasped, almost screaming, trembling with the effort of avoiding her release. He pounded into her for a while, stopping when he knew she was close and starting again. And again. And again.

Finally, he flipped her and praised her.

"You took your punishment so well, my love," he said, suddenly sweet, kissing her.

He entered again, now slow and methodic.

"You are a tease, but I love you Pen."

She was sobbing now, and he took mercy.

"You can come, love of my life," he said, hitting her special spot again. She did cry a bit with the intensity of her release, spurring his own as well as her core kept pulsating.

"Bloody hell, Pen. That was amazing. Are you alright?" He asked, kissing her slowly.

She was smiling at him, still dizzy from her release, but nodded.

He got up, took a warm towel to clean her and then cuddled her for behind, lulling her to sleep singing a love song to her until she was asleep in his arms.

He kissed her cheek. Pen looked almost angelical in her rest, and he smiled, knowing only him would ever know her more devily side.

[makeitmingi]

Cause Baby You’re My Muse [Chapter 11]

Genre: Romance, Idol!AU, Music, Slight angst

Pairing: Mingi x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Producer!Reader, IdolLyricist!Mingi, IdolProducer!Hongjoong, Idol!Seonghwa, Idol!Yunho, Idol!Wooyoung, Idol!San, Idol!Yeosang, Idol!Jongho, cameo(s) by other celebrities

Summary: You always preferred producing underground, having an unknown face and governed by your own rules. But when you start freelancing for idol groups, you say goodbye to your lone wolf lifestyle as you learn to work with idol producers and lyricists.

Word count: 3.2K

“Hold on!” You removed the headphones and put on your mask before going to the studio door. After the boys separated to do their stuff for the night, after dinner, you were continuing to work in the studio. 

“Oh, Jongho.” You were surprised to see the youngest standing there, assuming that he was joining some of the boys for a drink outside on the deck. 

“I thought you would still be here. Can I come in?” He asked. 

“Of course.” You walked in with him behind you. You were aware of the difference in his tone and demeanour. There was something different and you noticed throughout the whole day of doing guide recordings with the boys. Yesterday’s production track was good enough so Hongjoong had wanted to jump into guide recordings right away.

Today was spent doing various guide recordings as a group, as units and as individuals. When it was Jongho’s turn, you immediately noticed that something was not right. 

“What’s up?” You asked as you sat down in your seat and he took the seat next to you. 

“I was just wondering if it is okay if I record my part again? And the adlibs.” He rubbed the back of his neck shyly. 

“Sure.” You didn’t question further, pulling the recordings up from earlier in the day. Jongho bowed his head and went into the small recording booth. You watched him do some warm ups before putting the headphones on.

“Can you hear me?” You spoke into the microphone. He nodded with a thumbs up as he adjusted the volume coming through. He tested the microphone with some vocalisations.

“Loud and clear.” You told him. 

Jongho wanted to record all his parts again, which was almost the entire song. You weren’t tired since all you had to do was record and lay the vocals over the instrumentals. But you were worried about him straining himself too much. 

“Playing back.” You spoke, turning the microphone off and letting him hear his vocal recording. His facial expression was serious, he had a frown on his face as he tapped his finger against the stand. You watched him shake his head with a disappointed look on his face. 

“Jongho? Could you step out for a minute, please?” You requested. He blinked, confused by your sudden request but complied, leaving the headphones and coming out. 

“Sit.” You patted the empty seat that he sat in earlier. He plopped down in the seat, posture stiff with his hands resting on his knees.

“Is everything okay?” You asked. 

“Everything is... fine.” 

“You seem frustrated with your recordings, not just now during the re-recording but also earlier today. I noticed that you were not in your best condition. So tell me, what’s wrong?” You tried to coax him. 

“I don’t know. I just feel like I haven’t been perfect so I want to be. I don’t want to be lacking and causing my hyungs to suffer.” He confessed.

“What makes you think you have been lacking at all?” You tilted your head. You knew that Jongho was the most private out of the boys. He wasn’t one to openly share and express his feelings with other people. Affection wasn’t something he showed. But you didn’t want to push him too much, he could share with you whatever he felt comfortable with sharing. 

“You know the hyungs do well with dancing and they’re all very good looking. I don’t have the looks or dance skills, I can only rely on my vocals. I’ve just been thinking that my best isn’t good enough.” He tried his best to explain.

“Jongho, I think you need to give yourself more credit. Your vocals are one of a kind, unmatched.” You told him. 

“It’s honestly dumb...” He shook his head.

“It’s not. Because I know how you feel. I’m like that with every beat, melody, track that I compose. As artists, we are all perfectionists.” You refuted.

“You are talented and valuable to this team in your own unique way, you’re irreplaceable. If everyone had the same set of skills, this group, this world, would be a very boring place.” You chuckled. 

“Agreed.” He nodded. 

“Trust me, Jongho. You’re doing great.” You patted his hand encouragingly. You were glad that he felt like he could share this with you.

“Thank you for sharing that with me. We all need a little verbal encouragement every now and then.” You giggled as the both of you stood up. Jongho surprised you by suddenly hugging you. 

“You’re doing great too.” He said softly. Behind your mask, a small smile formed as you lightly put your arms around him to reciprocate the hug. When he pulled away from the hug, his ears were bright red. He coughed, looking away and refusing to meet your eyes. 

“G-Goodnight. You should go to bed and not work too long.” He spoke. 

“I’ll finish up soon.” You promised. Jongho nodded, bowing awkwardly before ascending up the stairs and leaving the studio. 

“Indigo! No more working. Come upstairs.” Wooyoung came marching down. You looked at him then ignored him by turning back to your computer and putting on your headphones.

“Get her.” You didn’t hear Wooyoung’s command whoever was with him. But soon, you felt someone remove your headphones and lift you up. 

“No!” You gripped onto the desk like a cat. But your strength was no match for San, who easily lifted you up. 

“San! Put me down or I swear, you will have ZERO lines for the next Ateez song.” You threatened. That actually caused him to falter a little, contemplating whether to put you down. “Don’t let her intimidate you, San ah!” Wooyoung slapped his best friend’s arm. 

“Okay, okay, you win. But before I go with you, can I at least let me save my work first?” You negotiated. San turned to Wooyoung, who nodded in approval. You leaned over and saved all your work and notes before shutting down the system. After that, San still lifted you up bridal style and carry you up the stairs. You slung your arms around his neck.

“Is the carrying still necessary even though I agreed to go with you?” You raised an eyebrow at the two of them. 

“In case you run away.” San replied. However, when the 3 of you arrived at the living room, it was dark. There was no sound or movement, which you assumed meant that the others had gone to bed.

“There we go.” San softly put you down on your feet, making sure you were steady before letting you go. You looked around in confusion.

“What’s going o-”

“SURPRISE!” The lights turned on and all the boys jumped up with their arms in the air, there was popping of champagne. They all wore party hats. You didn’t know what was going on until Mingi and Yunho held up a banner.

‘HAPPY 100 DAYS WITH ATEEZ, PROD. INDIGO!’

Your eyes widened, has it already been 100 days? You were not sure if you were shocked by how long or how short it has been. On one hand, 100 days seemed like a lot of time has passed and yet, the busy days have made it seem like time has passed too quickly.

“Surprised? It was my idea.” Wooyoung nudged you.

“It was all of our ideas.” Jongho rolled his eyes. Wooyoung hugged you, kissing your temple. But surprisingly, you didn’t push him away. You wrapped your arms around him, hiding your face in his sweater.

“Why? Why?” He was shocked by your actions. You felt all the boys staring at you as Wooyoung pulled away slightly, cupping your face.

“WHY ARE YOU CRYING?!” He yelled in shock.

“Jung Wooyoung, look at what you did!” Seonghwa came over and took you from Wooyoung to cradle you. He stroked your head, while everyone scolded Wooyoung for supposedly making you cry.

“ME?!” 

“It’s okay. Don’t cry.” The motherlike nature of Seonghwa came out immediately as he comforted you. 

“Sorry, I just... all the emotions was suddenly very overwhelming but thank you. Thank you all for this.” You spoke. Hongjoong grabbed a tissue to gently wipe your teary eyes. 

“I want all of you to know how much you mean to me, even if it has only been 100 days. Couldn’t ask for better people to work with.” You smiled. 

“Aww.” Yunho bounded over to you and hugged you tightly, reminding you of his golden retriever persona. His body towered over yours, making you laugh. Soon, one by one, the Ateez members all hugged you except Jongho. Despite his hyungs teasing him, you weren’t going to reveal that he was the first to hug you earlier in the studio.

“Pabo yah, don’t cry anymore.” Hongjoong patted your head. You knew how protective Hongjoong had become of you. He saw you as his little sister that he wanted to take care of. 

“I won’t.” You replied. The last person to hug was Mingi. Mingi suddenly felt shy and awkward to hug you with the others around.

“Why are you so stiff?” Yunho teased. 

“Thank you for your hardwork.” Mingi smiled down at you, enveloping you in his arms. You laughed and wrapped your arms around him, patting his back. Mingi prayed you couldn’t hear how fast his heart was racing. 

“I didn’t even realise it has been 100 days.” You confessed, rubbing the back of your neck. 

“Your candles are half gone.” Yeosang stated. You invited all the boys to help you blow out the half melted ‘100′ candles on the cake. 

“Let me cut the cake and give it out.” You grabbed the plastic knife to start removing the melted wax that fell on the top of the cake. You began to cut the cake into slices for everyone to eat.

“Here you go.” A champagne flute was placed in front of you with a straw in it. You lifted the glass to clink with everyone before taking a sip. As you watched them drink, your mind went to the Wanteez drunkteez episode, making you subconsciously let out a small giggle.

“What’s so funny?” San asked as he ate a bite of cake.

“Just wondering if I’m going to be watching that episode of Wanteez live.” You chuckled. San knew what you were talking about and immediately blushed, pursing his lips.

“What?” The others were confused.

“Drunkteez.” Was all you had to say before yells and whines of protests were thrown at you. 

“You should know that was just for show! It wasn’t real.” Hongjoong replied. Yeosang raised an eyebrow before shaking his head.

“Sure, you totally weren’t trying to go home by putting your head in that bucket and balancing milk on your head.” You scoffed. Hongjoong threatened to hit you, making you duck behind Jongho. 

“I was fine.” Jongho shrugged nonchalantly. 

“The loudness is what gets you when they’re drunk. Try getting them to stop singing sad ballads at the top of their lungs.” Yeosang sighed at the memory. Mingi nodded in agreement, he was one of the mostly sober ones after that episode shoot, and had to help Yeosang with taking care of the other much more drunk members. 

“It’s just one bottle of champagne. We aren’t going to get drunk.” Wooyoung rolled his eyes and slung his arm around your neck. 

“Thanks again for doing this for me. I really appreciate it. And I also wanted to say thank you for all the hardwork you’ve been putting in the past couple of days.” You said with a bow. 

“Yay!” 

“You worked hard too!” They all cheered. 

There was a warmth in your chest. The fact that Ateez remembered and are celebrating your 100th day with them, while you barely even remembered and celebrated your own birthday, really meant something to you. 

“Well, we have two more days until we leave so let’s make the best of it.” You held your glass up.

“Let’s do this!” Everyone followed suit and lifted their own glasses. All of you downed the remainder of the champagne. After that, the boys split up to clear up the living room and do the dishes

“I can help with the dishes.” You offered.

“No need, it just a few plates and glasses. Go sit. Take a breather.” San nodded over to the couch. You nodded in defeat, shuffling over to the big couch and sitting down. Hongjoong yawned and came over, laying his head on your lap. You weren’t bothered, looking at your phone. 

“Go sleep, Joong.” You said after hearing his yawn again. 

“Don’t want to!” He protested like a child. You lifted a hand over his forehead, threatening to hit him.

“I dare you.” He squinted his eyes as he looked up at you. You rolled your eyes with a scoff and leaned back against the couch. As much as he was the captain and “father figure”, he could really act one of the kids. 

“And... Joong?” He suddenly brought up.

“Gee, that took you a while to process, maybe you’re more sleep deprived than I thought.” You joked and he flicked your knee but didn’t say anything further. 

“Can I call you Indi (pronounced: Indy) then?” He requested. You nodded with a shrug, no one has called you that but why not? 

“On our last day, what should we do? To commemorate the end of Ateez’s first song camp?” Hongjoong asked. You shrugged again, making him scowl at you for not helping. 

“What? I’m not good at planning these social things. What is a good social activity to do? I heard there’s a nice lake where locals go to, let’s go there for the boys play. Then for dinner, we could do a big barbeque outside. We had barbeque but it was done indoors on the first night. ” You suggested. Hongjoong nodded, seemingly considering your idea. 

“That’s a good idea actually. End work early and go have fun. See? You are good at planning these things.” He smirked. 

“Whatever.” You rolled your eyes. Hongjoong flicked you again at his tone.

“Stop doing that! One more time and I’m gonna push you off if you do that again. And you know I will do it.” You threatened. From your bickering with Hongjoong, the others came over. 

“He’s bullying me!” You complained. 

“You guys are noisy, go wash up and go to bed. Both of you need sleep.” Seonghwa chased the two of you upstairs. 

You went to your room and took a nice shower before changing into your sleepwear. It was nice to not have to wear your mask for a bit with your door locked. You rolled around your bed. 

“It’s so late... Haneul is probably sleeping.” You said to yourself when you checked the time on your phone. Instead, you opened your laptop and replied to some emails and private messages that came in the past two days that you’ve been busy. 

*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK* 

“Coming!” You grabbed the mask off the nightstand and wore it, going to unlock the door. You were surprised to see Wooyoung there with a big grin on his face.

“What’s up, Wooyoung?” You asked. He happily entered your room, faling onto your bed with open arms.

“I wanted to spend time with you. We had any solo time to talk.” He turned to you, wriggling until he was under the covers. You were a little stunned, not expecting him to suddenly appear at your door to talk to you.

“Sure.” You welcomed it. Wooyoung was one of the first people you met at KQ and you cherished the friendship you had with him.

“How have you been? And I’m not just talking about work.” He asked as you slipped under the blanket once you kept your laptop aside. It felt like textbook best friends at a sleepover. 

“Alright, I guess. Besides you and Hongjoong, I think I’m getting close with the other members at individual members.” 

“That’s great! But it’ll always be me first, right?” He raised an eyebrow.

“No one will take your place, Wooyoung.” You assured with a chuckle and he smiled triumphantly. Although, you didn’t directly agree that he was first. There was no first, you didn’t play favourites with the boys. 

“I have a little brother, Kyungmin. Our age gap is rather big but he is so cute. He just started school not too long ago.” Wooyoung took his phone out. He had an endearing smile on his face as he looked for the picture of his little brother to show you. You held the phone to see the picture of Kyungmin, it was obvious that Wooyoung adores his younger brother.

“That’s so cute.” You nodded at the picture of Wooyoung smushing his cheek against Kyungmin’s.

“Right?! He is so cute. I told him he will always be cute to me, no matter how old he is. But he’s growing up too fast.” Wooyoung giggled. You knew exactly what he was talking about. You felt the same with Haneul.

“What about you, Wooyoung? How have you been?” You finally got a chance to ask him back the same question. 

“I’m alright too. But I think some times I just let the negativity affect me too much. I have a brave front and an easy personality on camera but it gets hard.”

“Everyone’s always going to be a critic and try to knock you down. I think you’re amazing just the way you are.” You looked at him. Wooyoung knew that you were smiling at him through your eyes.

“It’s okay to be honest with yourself and your feelings. No one is expecting you to always be smiling and happy.” You patted his hand.

“Thanks, Indigo.” He smiled softly. 

Somehow, Wooyoung ended up sleeping in your bed. You didn’t have the heart to wake him so you let him be. You have fallen asleep around him and on him a few times anyway. But since you couldn’t sleep, you snuck out of your room with the intention to go to the studio. 

“I don’t know. Even Eden hyung has been chasing me and Hongjoong hyung has been having to help pick up my slack.” You heard Mingi talking to Yunho as you walked past. For some reason, you felt compelled to listen.

“Don’t you usually have your notes and references that you use when you’re writing and composing?” Yunho asked back.

“I do but nothing is working out, Yunho ah. It’s like the lyrics aren’t forming in my head like they used to anymore.” Mingi sighed. You frowned slightly, sad to hear Mingi say that.

“You told Hongjoong hyung? What did he say?” Yunho replied.

“He said I’m probably just having writer’s block and that I’ll get over it. But I haven’t been able to write for a bar of rap. It’s stressing me out.” Mingi said.

“Do you have a lot on your mind? You could be distracted by something else that’s why you’re not focused on the lyric writing.” Yunho theorised. Mingi didn’t reply to that.

You turned around and went back into your room, deciding not to go to the studio to work anymore. You stared at the ceiling, worried about Mingi. He told you lyric writing was going well when you chatted with him the other night and you thought your conversations with him were honest. 

So, why did he lie to you? 

~

Series Masterlist

[mor-goo]

AU MK1 where the two main protagonists are Li Mei and Havik and it gets crackshippy

So this AU was borne of me having recently started playing MK1, and only just learning that the two characters I thought looked most interesting apparently have next to no real impact on the story.

I don't know if anyone even cares about this game anymore, let alone the story, but here's my dumb AU re-write and crackship on the vaguest, most conceptual level.

Very obvious law-and-order-vs-unrestrained-chaos conflict. No way these two would work together of their own volition, so something drastic would present both with no other choice.

Buddy cop movie but they just stay hating each other the whole way through.

Havik's tower ending where he floods Seido, and both characters' stubborn natures also present inevitable conflict when Li Mei is naturally all like 'hey, maybe don't'. No matter how well they work together over the course of the story, you know it'll go awry by the end.

Why do they team up? What do they accomplish by the end of the MK1 story? I'll be damned if I know. Maybe if this gains any traction, I'll think about it more.

Havik works with Quan Chi, but grows to believe that he has promised too much to too many people. He brings back memories of the leadership of Seido.

One form of motivation for Li Mei to finally join him is the hope of redeeming herself in the eyes of Sindel and the royal family. Naturally, she doesn't tell them about their partnership. Tanya's role as the new head of the Umgadi, as well as her suspicions of Li Mei in relation to Jerrek's death, means Li Mei has to constantly check over her shoulder.

Neither of them are happy about having to partner with the other, but recognise it as a necessity.

Maybe their partnership would be found out later. Sindel sees it as the final straw after the death of Jerrek, and threatens her execution for working with a known terrorist (at least in Edenia's eyes). Li Mei perhaps has to make a choice between disowning the travelling partner who she's come to respect tolerate, or staying with him for the greater good of defeating Quan Chi and Shang Tsung.

The dynamic

Li Mei is about 90% of Havik's impulse control. He looks forward to seeing her losing her cool, just so he has something that he can hold over her.

Havik is naturally pretty ACAB (you go, Havik!).

They take turns interrogating people. Havik tends to be more physical with it. I'd say 'good cop, bad cop', except Li Mei would also start beating them if a) they annoyed her enough, or b) Havik's form was off. She's a stickler for fighting technique.

You're a fool if you don't think Havik pulls the most juvenile pranks on her. When they first meet, he pretends to suffer a grievous injury, pulling off his own arm or something just to be a dick.

The arm acts as a Chekov's gun and he gives it to her as an impromptu weapon in act 3 or something, idk.

Li Mei is a smooth talker with some surprisingly witty reparte when she wants to use it. Havik is not. I imagine it like James Bond suave vs Sergeant Hartman from Full Metal Jacket. ('You'd better un-f**k yourself or I will rip off your head and check down your neck!')

It'd probably end with Li Mei accepting her role as head of Imperial Police, as she does in the tower ending, and she'd be willing to let Havik go, with a days' head start or something like that. Yeah it's tropey as hell, but I love said trope.

Y'know how Darrius just hangs out with Havik in the story mode and has no dialogue at all? I imagine him as also occassionally being there in this AU, and still also not saying anything. Havik is just like 'this is Darrius, he's coming with' and Li Mei, too exhausted to question it anymore, just thinks 'yeah, that tracks, whatever'. Darrius just sometimes nods or shakes his head.

Remember that meme where the person asks out his crush and makes it a group chat that also includes his friend? And the friend is like 'dw bro I'm here for you?' That'd be Darrius.

('Why does Li Mei call you baby girl?' 'Let's change the subject.') Would it get ship-y?

For some reason they could meet with the canon group (ie Raiden, Johnny Cage, etc) and Cage would be all 'I ship it'. Mileena, having to hide her own relationship with Tanya, is surprised, but doesn't consider it her place to judge. Even Lui Kang could be sporting one of those sly, subtle smiles he sometimes gives.

No clue what would happen after the events of the story for now, but would be left open-ended in an eternal state of chase. A sort of grudging level of mutual respect. ('I hate this person, but I'd be damned if I'm going to be chased by / chasing someone else')

OR it's a more tragic ending where he and Rain do flood Seido and we get a somewhat tragic ending between the two where Li Mei reverts back to hating him, and also herself for thinking he had any humanity to him.

In other words, you're damn right it gets ship-y. They're called crackships for a reason and I've caught the bug.

What shall we call it? Law and Havoc?

Anyway, verbal spray over. Maybe when I see more of the story I'll come up with more ideas. Sorry for any repeated points, I was desperate to get this all down. I'm off to stew over this some more for now.

[florallylly]

side a: eddie munson

side a

side b side b: steve harrington

explanation post

just going to go straight to my very very stream of consciousness commentary about each song but i want to clarify that i'm an eddie munson is dirty and gross truther and also i hate that rat man (endearing). so yes it might play into some of my thoughts

some songs are kind of vibe-y and you can tell when my explanations start getting contrived and bad but bear with me. i DO have some specific keystone songs idc KEYSTONE i love the word ok anyway

“I” Black Sabbath; eddie munson you are a LOSER with OPINIONS we get it. like yes you are so persecuted by everyone sure you’re going to prove us all wrong 

“Heaven and Hell” Black Sabbath; tbh added to match with heaven/hell in the other playlist, but somehow it’s kind of giving munson doctrine to me. literally googled and supposedly it’s about like band kids (??) but i think just like “the world is full of kings and queens/who blind your eyes and steal your dreams” i can literally hear eddie munson quoting it

“Fade to Black” Metallica; UGH why are there so many long periods of silence at the beginning and end of these songs. but just adding to the eddie munson i’m so outcast bad boy drug dealer thing and like. had to have metallica

“I Don’t Wanna Be Me” Type O Negative; idk if anyone can tell that i think eddie is a big dramatic loser who thinks he’s the main character (endearing?) like I AM RIGHT��� 

“skins” The Haunting; okay this song is saur…. like normal people scare me i’m such a freak coded

“Nosferatu” Blue Oyster Cult; a nod to Eddie Munson being a BIG LOSER NERD. ugh whatever honestly parallels a lot of kas theory fic imo, like innocent maiden steve offering his blood to vampire eddie … why have i read it several times over. in my head, this is like. eddie munson having a dirty dirty loser fantasy about king steve 

“Teenage Dirtbag” Wheatus; need I say more………. 

“The Sun Always Shines on T.V.” a-ha; yeah… YEAH. it’s a steve song on here. i like tried to do this thing where on each playlist there are keystone songs and this is one of them. like, the song that’s in the other’s genre is the moment they fall in love even if they don’t realize it yet. but re: the song like it’s so eddie having this realization that when he was picturing king steve, he only saw him through snapshots and now that he’s live and an actual tangible human it’s different. like  LIKE

“18” Anarbor; tbh i am trying so hard to add some of these songs bc they are so quintessential to me and my connection of music to fandom, BUT IDK…. ITS HARD…. but yeah it’s very steve harrington would never really want to be with me, i’m such a bad boy. okay….  

“Poison” Alice Cooper; eddie munson ur horny . eddie munson we’re sworn enemies like ur a jock and i’m a nerd and like could i light my cigarette with ur cock please please 

“Falling In Love” Scorpions; “falling in love, it happens to me every day” okay eddie munson i did NOT see u doodling hearts around steve’s name in the fourth grade

“Around the Fur” Deftones; i do not know why but for some reason feeling like steve still hanging around his old crowd, and eddie getting all weird about it. IDK !! does it not just feel so eddie munson

“Closet” Fleshwater; an interlude-y song here kind of an angsty moment for eddie 

“I Was Made For Loving You” KISS; SECOND KEYSTONE SONG…. this song signals the first time they sleep together. i am so sorry eddie munson but this music actually DOES give me migraines but i tried very hard  

“Be Quiet and Drive (Far Away)” Deftones; eddie’s dreams about leaving hawkins and becoming famous. just in general his wishes to be somewhere he’s wanted and where he belongs. idk i feel like it’s eddie talking about all of these grand plans for his future and turning to steve and being like “and what about you?” and steve doesn’t have an answer.

“Covet” Basement; “you are everything/my most demanding dream” like like like eddie munson loving and hating that he’s in love with steve harrington who is hawkins to the bone and seems determined to die there. 

“Ghosts” Scarlet House; in my head this is eddie munson angsting after seeing steve hanging around nancy wheeler or robin buckley depending on when exactly we’re setting this. but it’s very woe is me i’m lost without you. idk it could literally even just be they fought and steve is at the grocery store chilling and eddie munson is literally frothing at the mouth sobbing in his van 

“Saturnine Saturnalia” VV; “there is no end to the hurting/i love you” saturnalia was a roman festival where they indulged in mischief and partying and whatnot. feeling like at this point, even if it’s fake, even if it ends up hurting me, i’ll take whatever i can get kind of feeling. maybe it’s like realizing he won’t be free of hawkins unless he lets go of steve or thinking that he’s just a stop on the way to a white picket fence. and i think that maybe this is the moment when eddie begins to realize how deeply he feels for steve.

“Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want” Deftones; PLEASE LET THE MAN GET WHAT HE WANTS !!! FOR ONCE !!! he is out here every single day dealing drugs PLEASE give him a sexy passenger princess to come with him on deals

“Black Butterflies and Deja Vu” The Maine; ik it’s a jump scare but KEYSTONE SONG…. the moment when they admit they’ve fallen in love. this is their aha moment. their AHA! moment not a-ha… but yeah…. eddie munson finally being like wait i’m in love with steve harrington and idk for how long but i’m in trouble

the future holds IDK ... just this part took me this long so PLEASE spare me i literally wrote this out on my notes app

[soosthesoul]

spoilers for part 2 murim arc +++

while i understand that the common take on sui is that by far he's more or less a flat character that the author doesn't really know what to do with and hence uses him as more or less of a laugh track — and while i think that's hilarious, i also think there's deefinitely a little more to it from where that came from.

i also desperately want you to keep in mind that almost everything that kim roksoo - now cale has learnt is directly from his experiences at team 1 under soohyuk - now sui's wing. we know this from the test at the sealed god's temple where cale had tried to communicate with his gang via sgt!krs using the cintamani. that poor boy was so awkward.. my sgrungly crimblo...

let's start with how he's introduced! he finds cale in orsena's duchy and they essentially just have a staring contest for a while before sui joins the party. i.. i am not going to lie, while i was a tiny bit disappointed that they didn't have an emotional reunion, a little reflection on their situation and dimensions as characters made me quickly realise that it was no time or position to have a touching re-contact with each other.

mainly, i think this is because sui khan is guilty. he lives with the guilt of leaving cale behind, and he lives with the guilt of knowing that he eventually has to ask for cale's help regarding his own bird clan — as briefly touched upon in one of the earlier chapters.

his existence in xiaolen was barely there, he'd mostly spent his time with the kids, and volunteered to go spying without even having to be asked — while this may be perceived with the idea that lee soo hyuk prided himself in his abilities of stealth, it's also...

"our little sui wanted some air." maybe i'm looking too deep into this, but it seems that even cale picks up on the fact that sui is restless and uneasy for whatever reason and used it to jab at him as a joke.

skipping forward to when cale had to choose a party for his trip to jungwon, he more or less truly did not require sui's presence there besides for the fact of moral support.

and i think.. sui picked up on that, because he suddenly has this air of mischief to him, and while i definitely don't think that he's by any means faking his laughter, i also think he's genuinely masking his worries, concern and guilt by throwing lighthearted jokes to jab at himself and at cale, more or less as a silent apology of sorts.

he's also mentioned to be by cale's side much more often, whether or not this is because cale is in the body of the weak kim roksoo, nobody really knows. but i think cale thinks that's the real reason.

and while i seriously might be looking too deeply into things; these three instances 100% stood out to me.

(forgive me for the off-quote as i am going off of angie's summaries + poor machine translation via google lens)

1. when the emperor of jungwon had asked cale his name, it's specifically mentioned that he glances at sui who nods his head to encourage him. cale then smiles and states that his name is cale henituse

2. when the whole gag of sui making up murim versions of the entire team's names were going on, it's mentioned that cale had originally thought sui was going to give cale the name "kim roksoo", and its further mentioned that sui paused before saying gae-il (as a joke) then settling with hae-il instead.

3. after that whole exchange is over, they'd joked around with each other, "young master kim", "noble warrior lee". further proceeding past this instance, cale's little shit switch finally turns on and he monologues about how he begins to ignore sui's comments and even contemplates if he should call sui "young warrior lee" instead.

now, don't look at me like i'm crazy, please!! cause i'm well aware these are more or less the most normal instances to mankind that yrh may have just put in here to keep the mood lighthearted. but since when has yrh ever written fluff without the underlying gut-wrenching angst? keke

i seriously think this exchange between the two is their whole "reunion" talk, between two clearly emotionally distanced men, between them who were once best friends, but are now still finding the middle ground to interact with each other. their care and trust in each other remains the same, perhaps has even grown greatly, but in order to avoid accidentally doing damage, they try to find their own little safespace in the dynamics they've created with each other in earth 1 before lee soo hyuk had passed on.

i think sui definitely is bottling up a lot of things he'd rather not say to his dongsaeng who is still definitely struggling and has his plate full with the concerns of his own family and other dimensions. i think sui will finally get the push he needs soon, and i think that rereading part 2 with sui's inevitable arc in mind will be a juicy heartbreaker due to all the subtle and nuanced instances the author littered here and there.

while i agree that murim arc is most certainly sort of dragging on in the last 5 or so chapters, i still really really enjoy the direction part 2 is going in, and am eagerly waiting for more. choi jungsoo's appearance is going to break me in 10 halves, i'm most certainly not ready.

here's to manifesting soos reunion on monday chapter 900! here's to law of the hunt already reaching a 100 chapters!!

tl;dr - sui is a pro at masking. the soos.. definitely need closure, and the foreshadowing of it happening soon is driving me insane enough to theorise about it!!

[ryndicate]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ  A Drop in Time

Don’t listen too closely to the silence. It whispers things you don’t want to hear.

Vampire!Megumi x reader (fem body/pronouns)

notes: this installment was proofread by a friend who deserves all my love and i could wax poetic about them all night.... but here’s the first chapter! A true introduction to the world we live in. Also, just because he’s a background character in JJK, just know that Shouta was the dbag that was mean to Junpei lol, no relation to any other character cause I definitely used some names from other shows to name my other minor characters. 

Warnings: non-sexual penetration, memories of physical assault, depictions of death/grief, descriptions of arranged marraige/misogyny, mentions of ye olde birth control, religious themes

By expanding, you are consenting to viewing adult/dark content, and all warnings listed above. 18+ Minors DNI

Blog Rules & Main Links

⋆⁺₊⋆ Prologue ☪︎ Masterlist ☪︎ Series Warnings ☪︎ ch. ii. ⋆⁺₊⋆

Something bright irritates your eyes and a terrible stench greets you as you stir, movements leaden.

"She's awake! Call the priest, quick!"

Your eyes blink open slowly, a fierce ache in your head making them flutter closed almost immediately. Your body feels on fire as you curl in on yourself, feeling much too stiff, brittle like old bones.  You've never been in this much pain before, not even when you cut your leg on your father's tools as a child; the fever then almost killed you, according to your mother, but your memories of the time are broken at best. Sleep threatens your mind once more, blackness tinging on the edge of your vision.

"Little one, are you well enough to speak?"

Struggling, you look towards the familiar voice and make a final attempt to remain conscious. You've only met him a few times as he's the only priest for the few villages in this area. He makes time to visit for his duties once a fortnight. Everyone trusts him. 

The wariness in his eyes is enough to fill you with unease. This man was present at your birth, and has never given you more than a firm scolding in your life. The grim set of his jaw is unfamiliar, wrong. 

"Father?"

Your voice is small, dry and rasping, reminding you of the pain from the night before. Your throat burns, agony exploding across your senses as you wheeze and cough. Your hands immediately raise to cover the wounds on your neck, eyes growing hazy with tears. You can sense the others nearby looking on with curiosity, but too fearful to approach. Their wary stares fill you with panic.

"Dear child," An ounce of care filters into his tone, but it remains unyielding. "You must submit to an examination. You were bitten, do you understand?"

"Yes, Father." Your answer is swift and subdued. It is nothing short of a miracle that this opportunity is being offered. No one would have questioned the choice to dispose of you for the safety of the village. 

"Peace be with you." He bows his head. "We will move you to the church. Try to be still and send your prayers to above. We plead for the Lord's mercy today, should we be fortunate to receive it."

Father nods to two young men hovering nearby and they rush forward as if grateful for a task, bundling a sheet over you and carefully raising you between them. Through the gaps of the frayed fabric you catch sight of rising smoke, and realize with growing horror that the awful stench is that of burned bodies.

You close your eyes tight in hopes of erasing the horrifying image, wincing as their uncoordinated movements jostle your wounds, and try to gather your strength for whatever is coming. 

The church seems prepared for your arrival, several of the sisters who accompany the Father moving around to prepare a table with an assortment of items.

You try to be mindful as they hover, murmuring prayers, sprinkling waters and oils over you, clutching your fingers over the silver cross they’ve pressed into your hands, but your mind keeps drifting to the horrors of last night. It’s struggling to remember hazy details, but primarily in a daze over the fact that you’re somehow still alive.

It’s a short moment before you realize the sisters have shuffled out, the cross slack in your hands as your eyes refocus to see Father gazing at you, somber. Fear jumps to your throat at the shadow in his eyes, suddenly fearful to speak. Are you condemned?

His eyes avert from yours. "One last thing."

You jump uncomfortably as he steps closer, his fingers closing on the hem of your nightgown. 

Realization strikes you in an instant, paralyzing awareness.

"Father, please no," you beg him softly, panic lighting your eyes. "It did not, I swear on my life."

"Little one, I must." There's an air of discomfort surrounding the old priest now. "This is for your sake as well. We must clear your name of any rumor."

"I'm begging you," you whisper. Shame twists your features, hysteria bubbling hot in your chest as the heat of embarrassment is added to the brew of this nightmare. 

He pauses, solemnly reading your face. "It was Shouta?"

You nod, tears beginning to streak down your face to be acknowledging it. You wipe them away hastily, too overwhelmed to realize you’ve only wiped the soil of your gown down your cheeks. 

"As long as what you say is true, then I will tell no one."

"Do you promise, Father?" You daren't hope. Shouta and you both had known the damage that could be done to your image if your intimacy had gotten out. He'd persuaded you sweetly at first, then persistently. After a time, you'd reluctantly allowed him, in favor of earning his approval instead of his ire. He was to be your husband after all, ‘til death do you part. So you'd been careful, meeting him discreetly and taking the tonics the neighbor’s eldest daughter had gotten for you at the price of teaching her her letters. She wanted to attend school at the capital and now you’re wildly wondering if she’s even alive.

But for all the care you’d taken, you couldn't hide your shame from a priest. 

"You're safe with me, child. Vows taken or not, you are sworn to him. You are a good woman, and you will be a good wife for Shouta. He chose well in you, and this will not reflect on that. The Lord knows your heart; it is not my place to cast judgment." 

It had been your parents that chose him, but you remain silent. It would not serve you well to be any more honest now. Your father is away now, Shouta at his side, as they apply for a marriage certificate in the capital. Marriage… The man your father chose is a respected one, the village leader's son. You don't know if you will ever feel love for him, but you do know your life will be lived well at his side, lacking for nothing. You would never dishonor your father by rebuking the life he planned out for you.

Discomfort burns in both of your cheeks as the priest proceeds. As much as you know it to be necessary, it leaves a poor taste in your mouth. But if having the backing of the village's respected priest is what you need to return to your quiet life, then you can suffer this. The last thing you need is the hateful and fearful rumors that you might be with child by a monster.

"It is done. You are well, my dear. Let us see to your wounds."

"Thank you, Father." You can't help but slump in relief, weariness setting in now that your safety is assured. 

At his call a couple of sisters reenter the room and immediately begin fussing over you. Father bows and makes his exit, and they promptly strip you of your soiled nightgown. You are not sorry to see it go, the stiff fabric bloody and unsalvageable. As they dispose of your clothing in the hearth, you manage to voice some of the things you’ve been wondering about. They answer softly, informing you that it’s almost been two days since your attack. The priest has been monitoring you, afraid to move your body for fear of worsening your condition. It had been his call to leave you untouched, making no attempt to inspect your wound, to allow your wound to clot. The decision had been a risky one, but it had probably saved your life. 

There's profound relief on the women's' faces that eases some of the ordeal, and you allow your eyes to fall closed as they brush a warm, wet cloth over your wounds and skin, content to be in someone else's care even if just for the moment. Your body aches after nearly two days of sleeping on the bare ground. You want nothing more than to fall asleep somewhere comfortable after this. You can’t stop thinking about the blanket your mother had received from her relatives last winter. Thick, soft, and made from animal pelts you hadn’t seen before, it’s the softest thing you’ve ever touched. To fall asleep under that now would be bliss.

Thinking of that blanket has your thoughts wandering towards your mother. You wonder briefly if your parents and Shouta will hear of this incident before their return, or if you will have to tell them yourself. You don't look forward to reliving the experience for their sake. 

"Come, young miss. We drew an herbal bath out back. It will be cold, but twas the best we could do."

The water is bracing, but you're more than used to it. Whatever herbs they cast into it tingle along your skin pleasantly, relaxing you, and washing the grime from your skin helps you feel more clean. You can only hope it will help wash away the memory of the demon's touch. His hands were almost like fire. You shiver.

One of the sisters notices and tuts. "Oh poor dear, come now. Let's finish up and get you warm and dry. Father has asked us to accompany you to your home for the evening in case you have need of us."

"Thank you," you murmur softly, standing from the water and taking the clothes they offer you. Despite your wish to be alone, you have no doubt you'll be grateful for their presence. It will be much easier to brush off the old creaking of your home on them moving about instead of letting your fearful imagination run wild. 

You wrap the worn shawl around your shoulders more tightly as they accompany you towards your home. There are still men about, busy cleaning up the mess of the attack. Some glance at you warily; others nod and continue with their work. It seems news of your examination is traveling slowly, but the overall mood of the men you pass is enough to make you hopeful that all will be well soon. Everyone looks focused on rebuilding your quiet little village. 

"Of those attacked, were there any more survivors?" Beyond the loss of the baker's daughter, you know of no one else who had been lost. You're grateful all of your family had been away for the attack. 

The women look forlorn as they exchange glances. "Not many, we're afraid. Most had wounds too deep, others were in danger of turning. There are a fair few missing as well. You were very lucky, miss."

The words feel thin. Lucky is not how you would describe nearly dying, held down and helpless at the hands of a monster—but you suppose there are no good words to describe such a thing.

"I apologize for the mess, we were not expecting visitors." The etiquette slips from your lips automatically as you show them inside. Your home is humble, but well built. Your father works a steady trade, and he saw to it that the house is well-maintained. 

To distract yourself you help see to their accommodations, pulling out linens for their bedding. You fear if you remain idle…his voice will haunt your thoughts. 

You will not suffer needlessly.

You close the closet door more fiercely than you mean to, chills covering you from head to toe.

How dare that monster say something so horrific. How were you meant to not suffer when he drank from your flesh? The pain of that encounter very well may follow you to the afterlife. 

You make your way back to the sitting room to find that the women had made themselves busy stirring the hearth. The warmth is most inviting and you will yourself to relax.

"There isn't much here for now, but there is bread in the kitchen and enough to make a light stew. I can make enough for us all."

The appalled expressions on their faces is almost comical.

"Heavens no!"

"We're here to tend you, miss! You've suffered something terrible, you should be resting."

After their sharp demand, they wave you towards a chair near the fire until you sit, straining your ears to hear the hushed voices as they bustle about your kitchen. They seem to still be worrying for your health and the few others who are in recovery. Your fingers brush delicately against the bandage on your throat, wincing at the lingering pain. You're not used to being taken care of in such a manner, not since your mother had taught you to care for the house and how to prepare meals. 

She had gone with your father to the capital, ever the dutiful wife. Before she had left, she had told you to enjoy the few weeks of peace before Shouta's return. She seemed to recognize the lack of personal attachment you felt for the union. This small time for yourself has been a gift from her to you.

It's not long before the attendants return, placing a small bowl of stew in your hands. The vegetable broth is soothing, the added warmth in your stomach making your eyes droop as fatigue settles over you. As they help you to your room you're grateful for their assistance, but you find yourself longing to be alone once more. One of them refastens your window, the one you had climbed out of last night when you’d heard someone enter through your front door. Even after they leave the room, you cannot help yourself from tiptoeing over to the sill and making sure the latch is tight.

You would never be able to sleep without checking for yourself. 

The morning comes far more quickly than you'd like. You wake feeling unrested, moving slowly. You’re certain there are unsightly circles under your eyes, but when the ladies ask how you're feeling you fix on a smile and tell them you're feeling much better. There wasn’t much sleep to be had when the echoes of groans filled your ears, and every small shift sent your body aching.

Breakfast is not a big affair, just plain porridge before you send them on their way. Despite the fatigue of your body protesting every step of the way, you spend most of the morning tending the house, clearing out dust, washing the linens, and cleaning the floorboards. Afterwards you sit in the sun pouring through the open window as you eat a light lunch, more tired than usual from your affairs. Sweat beads across your brow from the exertion but you wipe it away without complaint, along with your tears. 

It feels like you've not stopped crying since you awoke yesterday afternoon. Any time you find yourself with what should be moments of peace, his groans fill your ears, his breath dusts on your neck and you feel the ghost of a body right behind you. Your wrists still ache from his crushing grip and your neck twinges with pain every other moment. Unable to bear the silence, you heave yourself to your feet and march to the front door with purpose in each step.

Even if you're tired and your chores have finished, surely with everything that's happened there's more work to be done. Wrapping a shawl around your shoulders, you push out the door.

The village is bustling with activity as you make your way toward the main street, but everyone is subdued. Grief is all but tangible in the air, eyes downcast and lips set in frowns. Even the children aren't running about, clinging to their mother's skirts or each other's hands. 

You make your way into the market and catch the eye of the young nephew to one of the farmers. He's stopping each passerby and offering something from the basket at his side. Curiously you make your way towards him. 

He turns to you as you approach. "Do you need any?" He tilts the basket towards you gently, showing you a mound of eggs. "Uncle said with everythin', folks’ chickens probably wouldn't lay, so he sent me out with the extra. You can have some."

"I don't need any, but thank you. I was actually looking to see if anyone needs my help."

"You could always ask the market marm, 'm sure she'd know," the boy says thoughtfully, "But I heard Mama say the weaver was killed, and the husband has his hands full with the kids and the shop. You could check on him." He pulls a cloth from his pocket and carefully places five eggs in it before tying it. "I was gonna go that way later but here, take these with you, 'm sure he'd 'preciate it."

Thanking him, you accept the makeshift package and your feet carry you towards the weaver's shop. You can hear the wail of an infant before you even open the shop door. 

Cautiously entering, you peek around to see the weaver's husband bouncing a toddler on his hip, another child tugging on his trousers as he tries to break up what appears to be an argument between his two eldest. The young boys are screaming at each other, faces ruddy and pinched with anger.

"It’s your turn—"

"I did it yesterday—"

"No you didn’t, you rotten little—"

"Boys!"

A small hand curls around two of your fingers, causing you to startle silently. You look down to see a young girl, no older than four, looking up at you tearfully. You recognize the weaver's youngest daughter and click your teeth in sympathy when she reaches for you, a silent but clear request to be picked up, and haul her into your arms. She clings to you, her soft curls brushing your cheek.

"It's okay, little one," you sigh, adjusting her weight and clearing your throat, making an attempt to make your presence known. Raising your voice is no longer a simple feat. "Excuse me—"

The beleaguered father finally notices you, his eyes filled with frustration at his children's behavior. "Toshi, Gin!" he snaps at last, loud and gruff in a manner that makes both boys freeze and hunch their shoulders. "You know better to behave like that in front of customers, apologize to the lady."

Both boys glance at you and duck their heads, muttering apologies that you don't quite hear as the toddler in the man's grasp begins to wail, frightened by his raised voice.

"I'm sorry, miss, but now might not be a good time. If you'd like to come back I'm sure I can help you find—"

"It's okay sir, I actually came by to see if you might need anything?"

Your words are timid, almost coming off as if you're making a request. His blank stare causes your cheeks to heat up, and you stutter, searching for something else to say. "One of the farmers also sent these eggs. They had some to spare."

A little awkwardly, you hold out the makeshift parcel until he readjusts his hold on the tyke in his arms and takes it from you, appearing just as awkward as you feel. After a short moment, he clears his throat. 

“Gin, take this and put it up in the kitchen.” He places a palm on the head of the girl still clinging to his clothing. “Hime, go help your brother. Toshi, take the little one and put him down for a nap please.”

The young girl nods silently and takes Gin’s hand as Toshi takes the youngest. They all trudge off, glancing back at you as they go before they disappear around a corner of the shop. 

“Here, I’ll take her,” he offers, but the girl clings to you tighter, whimpering into your neck. “Come now, Yachi.”

A look of consternation crosses his features when she doesn’t listen, tucking herself deeper into your neck. You wince as she presses into your bandages, but you’re quick to assure him. “It’s fine sir, I don’t mind holding her.”

He grunts at that, but relents, eyeing you cautiously. “You’re that girl from the other day, aren’t you? The one that—” he glances at Yachi, “—that the priest visited.”

“Yes, he said everything was well.” You duck your head nervously, but he only shrugs, looking off to the side. Apparently he trusts the word of Father as much as you do.

“What’s yer name?”

“Rumi, sir.”

“Hm. And what is it that you said you came for?”

“To see if there’s anything I might be able to help with. I heard in the market that…” You trail off, glancing down at the child in your arms. You’re not sure how much the little one would understand of what transpired during the attack. 

Grief glitters in his eyes, and he appears to be struggling to answer you when the eldest comes tramping back into the room. “We finished Pa. Gin and Hime are playin’ in the room with—”

“Toshi, can you take Yachi? I need to speak with the little miss.” There’s a small break in his voice that you think the elder man hides well, but the seriousness on the boy’s face makes you think twice. 

The boy might very well be less than half your age, but he appears to carry himself with responsibility. You assume he gained such a trait as the eldest of his siblings.

“Let’s go Yachi,” his voice is much softer when he speaks to her, “Gin’s telling that story you like. I bet he’d start over if ya asked nice.” 

Yachi peeks at him, her eyes still wet, but after a short glance at you, she nods and allows him take her from you. He only struggles with her weight for a second before his step bounces in playful exaggeration and her giggles at his antics carry throughout the shop even after they leave the shop floor.

“You have a very lively family. They seem to get along well.” It’s a paltry attempt to fill the silence that stretches between you, but he still gives a nod of thanks at your words.

“They’ll need to, to get through this,” he mutters gruffly, running a hand through black hair flecked with gray. He’s a well built man, who looks like he’s no stranger to the labor trades.

“I’m sure they’ll—”

“I haven’t told them about their Mama,” he interrupts you suddenly, looking you in the eye.

Your shoulders stiffen as you realize what he’s saying. 

“They didn’t see it,” he continues, speaking low in case the children might be trying to listen in. You step closer to help him in this, allowing him to speak even more softly. He unravels the bandage you hadn’t noticed on his forearm, showing you the wound that nearly matches your own. “I didn’t see it. The bastard got to me first, but it wanted her. Hit my head, and I was so out of it that I couldn’t… She got them all hidden away in the pantry before runnin’.”

“I’m so sorry.” Horror and nausea swirls in your gut as you picture the scene, the helplessness of it all. 

Shame and misery etch themselves to the lines of his face so deeply it was as if they’d always been there. “I found shreds of her clothing in the morning. Covered in blood. I c-couldn’t tell the little ones, I couldn’t. How do you tell a child their Mama was—” he inhales shakily. “I told them she’s helping the priest, but I think Toshi is beginning to realize what really happened. He’s old enough that I can't hide these things from him.”

"He's a strong boy, I can tell," you murmur softly. Your stomach heaves as you realize she met the end that you so narrowly escaped. That it could have been you, naught left but a puddle of blood for a loved one to discover. Swallowing tightly, you try to keep your voice steady and reassuring. "He'll help you take care of the little ones."

“He shouldn’t have to!” the man snaps fiercely, causing you to flinch noticeably, wincing as the sudden movement twinges in your neck. An awkward expression of regret paints his features. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t right of me—”

“No! It’s fine,” you murmur softly. This man has been through enough. Of course he’s on edge. “Just please, um…” You realize you can’t quite recall his name, though you’re certain you’ve heard it around the village before. 

He sighs, softening considerably, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes as he makes an effort to pacify himself. “The name’s Shin, Miss Rumi.”

“Shin, sir, please just let me know what I can do to help you. I’ve nothing else to do with my time but sit at home. I’d rather be useful.”

Shin regards you carefully. “I suppose, if you’re offering… the shop.” He glances around wearily, and you belatedly notice there are half-packed crates and parcels everywhere. “I’m packing everything up, but it’s a lot to handle on my own. Toshi wanted to help but I need him with the littles ones.”

“Of course.”

Grateful for something to do you set to work, carefully folding textiles and lining boxes with spools of thread. Shin works beside you, mostly silent save for some sparse instruction when you lose track of where to start next, wrapping a series of tools and devices with purposes that escape you. He’s so delicate with them that you are certain of their importance to the weaver’s craft. There’s so much to be done, you’re not sure that he would ever have managed to do this without assistance. When the light begins fading, only half the shop has been put away. 

“Rumi.” Shin glances outside, his eyes shadowed as they fix on you. “You should get on home before it gets any darker.”

Anxiety prickles at your skin at the idea of being out after dark. Alongside the obtrusive fear of what creatures might still reside in the shadows of your little town, you also don’t wish to be caught by rumour, staying overnight with the now unbonded man, so you gather yourself to go. Hastily giving your goodbyes and promises to return, you dash out the shop door and hurry back down the streets toward your home. The shadows of the setting sun seem more imposing tonight, and the streets are already quiet despite the long lingering orange light. It leaves you unnerved, and the tension refuses to sink from your limbs until the front door is securely locked behind you. 

The house is too quiet now, and you find yourself wishing for the sisters’ company as you go about what has been your nightly routine since your parents and Shouta left for the capital. You make a sparse dinner for yourself, having neglected to go to the market this morning, clean up, and draw yourself a bath, spending the extra effort to heat the water. While the fire crackles you carefully unwrap the bandage from your neck, unable to look at the bruising of your throat, the redness of your wound. You’re quick to apply the salve the sisters left you, and cover it with a fresh wrap, tears threading your lashline at the persistent pain.

It’s an effort to distract yourself. You know it, as you spend extra time making sure you’re entirely clean, scrubbing as much grime from under your nails as you can until the water grows lukewarm, and eventually cold as you sit, pondering. Shin had kept a careful hold of his grief today, but such a deep emotion can never be completely buried. Your heart aches for the man, despite how little you knew him and his children. You wish there was something you could say that would soothe his heart, if even a little.

You wish your mother were here. She might know what to say to a grieving husband. You have such little experience with such a thing, but your mother knows more of the world than you, has lived much longer. Surely she’s comforted at least one grieving person. 

Sighing, you step from the basin, and begin to dry and dress yourself for bed. There’s nothing left to look forward to tonight, no warm wishes for your dreams from your mother, no kiss on the cheek from father—something you’d complained about every day since you became of age, but now you miss both terribly. As you settle in your bed for the night, tucking your covers more tightly around you, you’re grateful for the fatigue that now rests over your body more securely than any blanket. It numbs the ache of your healing wounds and carries you to sleep faster than any fairy.

a/n: next chapter we get to meet one of the support leads, i wonder who it will be? :3

Reblogs are appreciated!

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[arthurtristankingsmen]

Small things I think I'd like for myself, a non-exhaustive list:

- Be engaging and fun to watch the streams of, enough to build up a small group of people who want to watch my streams regularly. so whenever I do one, I have people to converse consistently with in the chat and connect to

-improve my art enough that I can do more interesting and dynamic poses and produce cool pieces faster. It'd also be rad if i got to a point that people might tip me for the chance for some of my work, even the silly doodles, not just because they're my buddies (though I will never not appreciate the kindness of friendship too <3).

- Write again, whatever I want. Write the characters I want to. Create for myself, or to share with others, both art and writing, but without the expectation that anyone *should* like it. It's okay if it's just me. I'll love it enough for everyone. Notes don't matter to me already, but i need the same mindset about comments and engagement, where they're icing on the cake, but the cake should be mine to enjoy the process of baking.

- fight to become kinder and more patient again. I feel like I've lost myself because of traumatic events and some abuse over the last few years, and I'm not as good at being someone worth being around as I used to be. I burned out and I've struggled to be as understanding or to say things right, and I've fallen on too-teasing humor. I need to change, to joke in kinder ways than playful jabs that could accidentally go too far, and to find that gentler version of myself again, while maintaining boundaries. I can be honest and say what people need to hear, but I won't be blunt, I'll take the extra minutes to say it with compassion and sympathy and understanding. I want to be a safe space.

- Learn you can't help everyone. I know I want to, so so bad. But there are times you can't, and accepting that is better than feeling helpless and getting upset. I can't do stuff like donate to everyone who needs it every time, when I don't have anything to spare. I can't give up all of my mental spoons to help someone vent about a stressful day, when I'm barely hanging on by a thread. I can't keep telling myself that my life has no point and It's too late for me to be okay, so the only thing i can do is be of service to others and help them live better lives than me. It isn't too late for me, and my sacrifice wasn't asked for and it doesn't make me a hero or 'good' that i'm willing to do that. I have to kill the egotistic part of my brain that thinks my suffering for that kindness is "noble", and not something that would make the people I'm helping that way feel guilty for taking from me, if they knew. Give what you can spare of yourself, but leave enough to live with. No one wants others to set themselves on fire to keep them warm, and if they do, that isn't a relationship to maintain.

- Stop putting emotional energy into people who won't listen to the advice you give. instead of saying the same thing over and over again and getting resentful that they don't listen, just let them be. sometimes people need to stumble and stand up on their own to really learn for themselves, and it isn't worth all the energy you might try to give, just because you feel it'll help them, especially if they don't truly want to listen.

-You can't fix everything. it's exhausting, and a little too much ego to think you know better for everyone, and it's controlling to try and take over to help someone like a parent they never asked for, even if your intentions are only ever meant to be good and helpful. People are in charge of their own life, and they'll figure their stuff out with time, whether it's learning to listen because of realizing it would've helped a different time, or through trial and error. Keep the advice to people who ask for it, or it actually seems to help, and conserve the energy you'd spend on the people who nod along but never follow-through, so you don't end up feeling frustrated when they don't heed it.

-related, but stop putting as much energy into relationships that feel one-sided. Find people to talk to, to have fun with, and stop investing so much in relationships where almost all of the emotional energy is yours. You can't be the one who always tries to carry a conversation just to see it drop off. If they don't have the energy for you, or you're not a priority, that's okay. We can be friends, and still have nice talks and you can still care about them deeply! But try to prioritize relationships that make you feel you are worth listening to and engaging with, for yourself, rather than the ones where others zone out when you start talking when its not something they care about or are fixated on, or those who only engage when they need a sounding board, or drop off every time you try to engage them. All of these things are fine to do on occasion, don't get me wrong (i do it myself, it's human and not something to punish yourself for) but if it's almost every time, it's okay to feel undervalued. And it's okay to want more, and to focus on the relationships where we prioritize each other more consistently, and listen and engage with each others' interests more equally, both the ones we share, and the ones we just want to talk about with someone. Try not to guilt others for these things because it is natural, but if you need more, you need more, and it's okay to focus your energy where it makes you happier to be, rather than feeling bad the space you're in isn't meeting those needs.

-at the same time, be aware you are not beholden to all of your friends' energy and time. Sometimes, they will not have the energy or spoons to hang out out or talk, but that does not mean they don't love you or spending time with you. Try to be patient and understanding. Sometimes, they will do things without you, with other friends and that is okay, too. They are their own people, and they are allowed to exist outside of being around you, even with other friends. It's alright to feel bad sometimes about missing out, especially if it seems to be about maliciously leaving you out, or about avoiding you, or what you missed out on feels big and important. but it is okay for people to engage one another without inviting every other person they know every time, including yourself. Sometimes, a big group is too much for one person, sometimes they just want one-on-one time--- a friend group is not a singular unit that you are breaking by hanging out with friends separately. While everyone getting to hang out is great, you're allowed to have friendships that don't overlap, and you're allowed to hang out with friends who *do* individually, and everyone else you know is allowed to do the same. It's fair to want to feel a part of things, but it is not a terrible thing for others to enjoy time with just one friend, and it doesn't mean they don't like you or enjoy your company too. it's okay to be disappointed, but try to remember that, and try to find ways to accept it, like making time yourself for special hangout time too, or acccepting that whatever they were engaged with will still be fun for them now, and being okay with being late to the party, so long as you get to join in.

-try to become more positive. Not in a toxic positivity way, but it's okay to curate a space where everything wrong isn't the focus all the time. Being online is an escape, and while it's healthy to vent sometimes and work through problems or tough stuff, it's also easy to fall into consistent negativity, and people exposed too long to that will burn out. It's good to be able to tell people how you feel and communicate, but you need to learn to sometimes sort through things on your own, and try to also be a source of good and energizing feelings to balance out the tough stuff, and strike that balance. talk to people where you can just have fun, and be a source of support and joy for others where being around you ends up with them feeling good more often than sad or hurt or bad. you're not responsible for everyone's feelings, but you can always try to be someone you'd want to be around more, too. Find the things that bring you enthusiasm and be loud and supportive of people you care about-- it doesn't have to be every time, but try to be the person you want others to be for you, who make you feel engaged and listened to and like they care. Take the time to find the words that will mean something to someone, and make the effort to say them, you never know how much it will mean.

-BUT check your ego. Just because you take the time to say something kind because it might mean something to someone else, or to be supportive and listen, and to be that person that you wanted someone else to be for you--- *doesn't* mean that the people you interact with have to be that for you. You are not entitled to them changing for you, or engaging you how you want, or supporting what you make just because you made it. Sometimes tastes or things are different, and that's okay. You are not owed that, just because you do it for someone else. You chose to do what you do, to become more positive because that's the kind of person *you* want to be. it shouldn't be because then they might give you what you want. Friendship is not transactional. If that change does happen, that's great, and you might become closer for it. but you cannot expect that, or make them into what they want, because they are real people. so changing with the expectation that if you try harder, so will they, is unfair to put on them, and will end in disappointment if it doesn't happen.

-if what you really want is something different than what you are given, it can be talked about, if you want to see if it's possible for the relationship to change for your needs. but it's their right to say no to changing anything they do. And it's your right, if that happens, to instead focus on the friendships you have that already suit your needs, or to find new ones, instead of staying in a position you're unhappy with. try to communicate, and/or find the connections that work better for you.

-Communicate better. It's always good to keep trying, and keep getting better at it, even if you think you're already pretty good at. Never assume people know what you're thinking or how you're feeling. If you feel bad and are starting to feel resentful over something, step up to talk it out. just like you aren't in charge of someone else's feelings, they're not in charge of yours. If you feel a certain way, the ball is in your court to engage with someone and figure out how to address the issue, for both of you to resolve it, or understand what's going on. Do your best to figure out and frame things as 'us vs the problem' rather than you vs them, and do your best to be honest, but kind in communicating. Try to be sympathetic and understanding of their side, but don't let their side invalidate your feelings entirely, unless something is cleared up that makes you feel better. Even if you can understand where they're coming from, that doesn't mean what you feel doesn't matter. There are ways to acknowledge what happened without just going with them being right. You aren't doing yourself or them any favors by bending down and just agreeing with them to avoid conflict, that only leaves more hurt feelings and resentments down the road.

-At the same time, though, sometimes it's best to hold your tongue. There are some people who cannot be reasoned with or spoken to, and in those spaces it is best not to waste your energy fighting. Try not to put too much weight to the words of someone who you fundamentally disagree with, it's okay to choose not to engage for your own sanity or safety.

-get a remote job, so I can afford food and rent, so I can not hurt my disabled body just trying to have the money to survive with, and I can give gifts to people I care about and help my friends without worrying about what I have left, and I can afford to pay off student loans still looming over my head.

-write rp again-- I miss it so bad, but I am holding off until I get a job so I don't get sucked in and forget to be responsible. But its a goal to get back to it the minute the other part is handled.

- pay better attention. Try harder to not adhd away when someone is talking. Find methods to be an active listener, or make sure to apologize if I slip up, and show I want to hear what I missed, so the other person can feel listened to.

- take better care of my physical form. I need to eat, and to exercise and get sunlight more. Even if I have to work up to it at my own pace, it is something I have to pursue and choose to commit to, and I want to do better than half-hearted. I don't want to be bed/house-bound, unless it is something I don't have a choice in. Do what I can without causing harm to myself, and understand where my limits are.

-Keep going. Keep going. Keep going, it can get better and it can get worse, but you have to find the reasons why it's worth it to be here to ride out the lows. Keep going. It's okay, people love you, people like you being around, you'll be okay one day. Keep going. I love you.

[colorfuldreamsmkg]

Limp | Sonny Desiree | Trial 1.5 | RE: EVERYONE | ATTN: Hitome

Sonny knew that the second she called out the glitter, things were going to turn serious. Even if it wasn't exactly an accusation from her- only stating what she saw- others would be quick to attack or defend. But oh, it turns ugly quick, and Sonny can't sit in silence.

"Everyone, time out! Time out!"

She interjects into the madness quickly.

"I saw glitter on Hitome. She is the most suspicious person here. We also haven't concretely proven it's her. That's the facts.

Someone is fuckin' dead, guys. Dahlia was literally murdered and we're doin' this for both her sake and ours- need I remind ya the consequences of gettin' this wrong?

I don't care how you all feel about each other. You can all duke your shit out after this. You can be snarky, you can make jabs. You can defend your friends and say they didn't have it in them. You're all entitled to however you feel and I'm not about to police that.

But we need to get a fuckin' grip on ourselves before this devolves. It isn't about character. It isn't about morality. There's obviously no excusin' murder, but we still have plenty to discuss in either way.

I'm pissed, oh, I'm so fuckin' pissed. I wanna pull my hair out and I wanna scream. Blood is spillin' and this is so scary. But we gotta consider this objectively and leave whatever we feel outta this. Destroy shit after if ya gotta. Scream until ya voice hurts once we reach a verdict. Take that shit out on me, even, I welcome it.

We gotta solve this shit first."

The way people are so quick to make character assumptions- were they in the room when it happened? How would they have acted if they were in that exact scenario? What if someone they loved was killed? What if it was them who was killed? Would they want to see everyone actin' a fool, trampling over each other like this?

And Sonny's out of evidence to argue either way. She's exhausted her logical capabilities for the day. So, she just turns to face Hitome, meeting her in the eye.

"Hitome. I come at you not accusin' you or defendin' you. I come at you, woman to woman, to talk this out.

Dahlia's dead. Someone else is gonna die tonight. Things are gettin' damn serious and we're gettin' nowhere the more charged we get. So, let me level with you.

If we get this wrong, Hitome, another innocent is gonna die. If it's you who did this? That means you got the blood of two innocents on your hand, one on each palm, and it's never gonna wash off no matter how hard ya try. You can scrub and scrub and try to forget. You can cleanse your hands in holy water or a hospital sink, and it'll never rub off.

And if it isn't you and we vote ya, someone here gets away with a heinous crime. Another innocent is dragged to death, and maybe that isn't your fault, but that doesn't change the outcome."

She leans in, face carefully neutral. She doesn't betray anything.

"I'm givin' you a chance to come clean. Save yourself from the guilt that'll never go away.

I'm also givin' you a chance to fight back. Give us something concrete so we can actually resolve this, once and for all.

I won't tell ya what to do or how to choose. I won't force ya to fight a losin' battle. Us girls gotta stick together, right? So I'm givin' you the chance to make things right."

With that, Sonny nods, turning her attention back to the greater group. She knows that, inevitably, she's going to get some shit for this down the road. She can't appease everyone, right?

But she's not going to allow this situation to turn anymore chaotic or out of control than it already is. There's no such thing as sides in a case like this. In fact:

"And fuck the blue-haired bitch for puttin' us here to begin with. We all got a common enemy. We're all on the same side, even now."

[pyrepostings]

Prodigal Son

Free Birds and Fiddlers

cw: referenced past events of the story, including character death and abuse. Polite discussion of Christianity (specifically the story referenced by this chapter's title), mild implied homophobia that gets checked

~~~

Kevin settled himself on the starboard side deck, bringing his knees as close to his chin as he could without losing his balance to the waves, and holding his staff in hand for further aid in not tipping over. He tugged at his hair with his free hand.

The others were port side as far as he knew, likely going below now they were surrounded by water, and would be for some time. While he had agreed to come back to Paradis, he wasn't going to voluntarily be be brought below deck again for anything.

It wasn't long before Julian came around the corner, with two bowls of food in hand. Kevin smirked slightly as the otherwise very dignified man had not quite the sea legs of a sailor, at least Kevin had an excuse for poor balance.

"Do you mind if I join you? I brought lunch."

Kevin nodded, forcing out a "yeah" and re-positioned himself so he could wedge his staff between himself and the wall and took the offered bowl.

Lunch was some kind of cured ham, sauced and seasoned, with bread on the side. They ate in silence, washing it down with a thermos-full of tea. It was an uncomfortable silence, Kevin knowing there was much that still needed to be said, and knowing there was much Julian wanted to say but was afraid of Kevin reacting poorly so soon after the tentative peace was struck.

Kevin figured there were things for him to say too, sooner or later, and so broke it himself.

"I want you to know, Julian, that I'm sorry for hurting you. I shouldn't have. I just... I just didn't know what else to do at the time."

Kevin didn't look at the other man, but he felt him shift to look at him.

"I also want you to know. When we get back, I'll accept whatever punishment you decide for me. Just. Please don't tie me up again. Please." Kevin hid his head in his arms, breathing heavier than he was expecting to at that confession.

Julian was silent for a moment. "I meant what I said, when I told you there wouldn't be a punishment. You have to follow the terms of parole you agreed to, but I'm not going to hurt you. I promise."

"I know that's what you said but you couldn't have meant it. I know you were just saying that so I wouldn't hurt you more."

"Kevin, I meant it completely. All you have to do is ask to come back and you would be welcomed back with open arms. And you have asked. And so you will be welcomed back. I don't punish for the sake of punishment."

"But I hurt you. I killed Minstrel."

"And I really wish you hadn't. But- you've been punished enough. You weren't in your right mind. Hurting you more wouldn't bring him back, and you choosing to come back is like reviving you from the dead anyhow. I just want you to feel safe again. Why would I push you away now?"

Kevin stared off at the waves before replying. "Is everyone else going to feel that way?"

"I specifically ordered him not to go after you. Both times, in fact. But it was his choice to defy them. And you had made your intentions clear to him after the first. I won't say you were in the right either, but he knew what you were prepared to do, and he went of his own free will anyway. That is the truth, and that is what I will say to anyone who gives you trouble."

"Are you going to make me swear loyalty to you, commander?"

"Mm, I would like it if you did. But I can hardly force you. Either way you would be under my protection. Besides, you already swore loyalty to Elsa all those years ago. No one could argue you haven't served at least a few good years to us. Earned the right to still wear our crest, if you chose to."

"hm. And technically I swore first to Ezran anyway. I renewed my vows to Elsa."

"Exactly, see? You're one of the old guard."

Kevin did feel relaxed by his words, if only slightly. He seemed sincere. He leaned back against the wall behind him and closed his eyes against the sun.

"But I've been gone for so long. Will anyone actually remember that? Or just the crimes I've done?"

"I'll make sure to remind them if they ever forget."

"Thank you, Julian."

The time and silence stretched between them, gently rocked by the waves until Julian spoke again.

"There's something I wanted to ask you, if it's alright?"

"What is it?"

Julian pulled out a file of papers. "I'm sure you know, but part of the agreement to have you released back to us included giving me a copy of your file. Every conversation you had in custody, every note of your actions and whereabouts, of the trial."

"Alright?"

"Would it be ok with you if I read it?"

Kevin huffed. "As if anything in there is a secret?"

"I know, I just wanted to be clear with you. If you don't want me to read it, or any specific part, I won't. I'll throw the whole file overboard right now if you sincerely ask me to."

Kevin arched an eyebrow. "I don't think you'd actually do that. But if you wish to read it, and would truly follow my wishes, you may. I just want you to know... a lot of that- I'm not proud of what you'll find in there."

"I know. That's why I asked."

A particularly turbulent wave sent Kevin off balance, forcing him to extend a hand, and sending a slight shock of pain from where he instinctively extended and put pressure on his wounded leg. He felt a touch at his shoulder which quickly retreated.

"Sorry."

"It's fine. Thanks."

Kevin adjusted slightly, not wishing to fall off balance again but also trying to wrap himself against the cold sea wind as much as possible without the thick woolen cloak he had stubbornly refused. He could feel Julian's eyes on him.

"What?"

"It's just- do you want help?"

Was there an air of smug amusement in that voice?

"No I'm fine."

"You look cold, is all. We can go below deck to get out of the wind-"

"No! No. I'm fine, I don't need to go below deck." Even as he spoke, he could feel the chill setting into his bones in a way he knew he would soon regret not finding a way to ward off the wind.

Julian hummed, clearly not convinced but also having learned his lesson about pressing Kevin about things that weren't an immediate danger to his life. Kevin did notice how Julian let his own cloak open. An invite? It was clearly intentional, from the way he shifted to allow more of the fabric to the side where Kevin sat. He wasn't being slick at all.

Kevin rolled his eyes. "What are you doing?"

"You know, we have these lovely cloaks, handcrafted and specifically designed to protect against the cold which comes with being outside, and not up to much strenuous activity."

Kevin suppressed a smirk, suddenly enjoying the game they were now playing. "I know, I used to wear one. Yours seems to have fallen, right- ah right there."

"Hm, so it has. I barely noticed. That probably means I don't really need it right now. Would you like to borrow it?"

Oh, he thinks he's so cool. Unfortunately Kevin had already decided he wasn't going to wear one of those anymore. "I don't need the whole thing, just a corner, I think." He slid a bit closer to Julian, letting their shoulders touch. "If that's ok."

Julian nodded. "I didn't think you'd want to be this close to me."

"Don't get me wrong. We're not there yet. But- I do miss you. I miss what we used to have. And I am cold."

"Mhm. Alright." Julian threw the side of the cloak over Kevin's opposite shoulder as he snuggled in, pressing his entire side of his body up to Julian's, and tucked a few fingers under his flight harness for security against the rolling waves. He felt Julian shift in a way that seemed to be checking to make sure Kevin wasn't snatching anything off of said harness, but then relaxed back into him.

He was warm. And the way Julian stroked his hair, like he used to, sent a different kind of shiver down his spine.

It was comfortable. Sans the hard wooden floor, and the rocking of the boat, and the gulls cawing-

Kevin pressed his face into Julian's shoulder and neck, just above the collarbone. Why did he ever leave? He could have had this the whole time.

With Julian's hand in his hair, and his own fingers entwined in the other man's harness, mooring him in place, he let himself drift off.

~

Julian couldn't be 100% sure Kevin wasn't trying to play him, but if he really did still hate him for what happened, he never had to agree to come back.

Kevin had a long way to go. It was true many of his old comrades turned against him when he had initially lashed out, and most of the rest when news was brought that Minstrel was dead by his hands. And that wasn't to speak of Kevin's personal journey in his own head. Julian knew by now what false peace looks like, how quickly a riptide can pull one under.

But he was hanging on, now. He would have more people than just Julian looking out for him specifically, a whole net this time. People that Kevin helped many years ago. People who were hurt in very similar ways, and maybe that would help more than Julian ever could have done the first try.

For now he smiled at the barely audible snores that started from Kevin. He opened the file still on his lap.

~

Eventually, Quinn came around the corner.

"Oh, sorry, I don't mean to intrude. I just wanted some air."

"It's fine. I was just doing some reading." Julian was suddenly very aware of his hand still in Kevin's hair at his shoulder. Aware because Quinn made no secret with the way he looked at him that was what he was referring to.

"He was cold."

"It's warmer, and dryer, inside you know."

"And stuffier, so you've mentioned."

"Eh, true." Quinn leaned against the guardrail. "I guess I just didn't realize, how involved you two were."

Julian quirked an eyebrow. "And what do you mean by that?"

"Nothing! Just that you didn't let on. You've been awfully reserved with that information, before last night I never would have suspected-"

"Allow me to interject, officer. Neither you, nor your crown, is entitled to know every last detail of our relationship. I will state plainly that I plan to uphold the deal I made with your government for his relative freedom, and any involvement with him will not hinder that.

"In addition, while you are coming along to keep his parole, the laws of Paradis are slightly different to those of your home. Not everything outlawed there is outlawed here. Not everything you know to be a sin is considered as such here."

His tone was hard, but diplomatic.

"Right, right, I'm sorry. Commander, I didn't mean it like that."

"Mhm, of course."

Kevin stirred beside him but made no indication he heard anything. Julian rubbed his head softly to coax him back to sleep.

"I guess I just didn't realize until now why you intervened for him."

"I didn't pull him out of a life of incarceration because I'm romantically involved with him, if that's the point you're trying to make."

"So why did you? You broke the policy of isolationism to fight the courts for extradition. For one man."

Julian watched Kevin's face as he rubbed his thumb gently along his scalp. "I've never been Christian, but a long time ago, he taught me some of the stories from the bible. I imagine you're Anglican?"

"Yes, why?"

"Do the stories change much between denominations?"

"Depends. Exact wordings change depending on the exact translation, but the overall stories and messages should stay the same between, say, the king James version and the catholic one."

"Then you should know the one about the son who goes off into the world, squandering all of his father's money. When the famine comes and the son has nowhere to go lest he starve and perish to the elements, he returns home, groveling to his father's feet, not believing he would ever be worthy of forgiveness.

"Instead, he is immediately forgiven. A feast is held in his honor. The father is just glad his son came home.

"Are there truly no obvious parallels here? He asked for help, to return to my side, so of course I would fight for him."

"Well I suppose, when you put it like that."

And at Julian's side, Kevin curled almost imperceptibly closer.

Masterlist

[gaymer-hag-stan]

While Leon and Ada are one of RE canon "couples" they are played like that because not all couple are meant to last. Chris and Jill are the type of couple that will endure anything and whatever for each other, therefore the games play by not having explicit romantic gestures with them like a kiss. Leon and Ada are more on the forbidden love type of relationship. Even if they have feelings for each other, which they do, they'll never find a happy ending together (sorry to Lion and Ada shippers) Therefore the games play with the "romantic interactions more because nothing substantial will come of it.

It's funny how some still want to attribute alt costume as to imply a character isn't straight. But what some fail to see is that costumes are just silly props to have fun on alternative game modes. Sometimes is also to make pop culture references for fun. Chris' Warrior costume is a nod to Mad Max, which in part inspired the game (it's like an homage, not a gateway for people to think Chris is gay) In Revelations Chris and Jill have pirate and sailor costumes. Why? Not because they are gay or whatever. Revelations happens on a literal ship, a cruise, a massive sail boat in the middle of the ocean, with enemies and monsters with marine/aquatic motif. So of course our protagonists will have those types of alternative costumes. And let's not forget this is RE we are talking about. Alt costumes are bound to be cheesy, silly that way.

You can as well imagine they are game if you want. But real evidence implies more they are in love with each other than not.

Oh so you're one of those "have fun with it but MY version of events is the only real one"

I see 😂

[kpopwerewolf]

Nonverbal Language

So, I was just downstairs and I ran into my dad in the kitchen. Instead of saying hi like a ~normal~ person, I blinked and very subtly nodded my head. It immediately made me start thinking about all the others forms of nonverbal communication I utilize, and I decided to share a list and see if anyone else could relate. Feel free to add!

blinking as a way to say 'hi'

nodding to say 'hi'

this one actually depends: if i nod down it means 'hi', if i nod up it means 'sup'. In my family, the two have just enough distinction to be considered two separate types of greeting, with the second one having more of a playful or 'you just flopped down dramatically into your seat' or 'you were making a weird face or said something kinda strange and i'm not sure i should ask for context' kind of vibe

meowing to say 'hi', specifically when i or someone else has just entered the room

if i'm sitting on the floor and someone is sitting in a chair within range, i might reach out and touch their foot with my own as a kind of 'hi' gesture, but more along the lines of 'i'm just letting you know i'm still here' kind of thing. i don't really know how to explain this one. because it's not exactly "hi" or "i'm still here," but i can't think of any other way to say it

that cat trill. i have a version of it that i do. it's like two low notes followed by a sudden rise or something. this one is kinda weird too, because i (again) use it to say hi, but sometimes i'm just sitting there or whatever and i just do it

hugs! this one is a faily universal 'expression of affection' thing, but i think i'm more of a hugger than the general population

(finally one that isn't a 'hi')

i also use hugs as a way to re-center myself when i'm stressed sensory- or anxiety-wise

when i know i'm going to be facing a stressful situation, i have what i call my "armor": lots and lots of jewelry. i put on 3-4 necklaces, at least one bracelet, a fidget ring, and if the temperature allows, i may add a shawl or sweater. basically, the more layers/accessories, the more comfort i feel.

when i'm offering a backrub trade with my mom, often i'll just circle my hand in the air like if were giving a backrub

spinning. generally, this means my mind is exploding or i just remembered something really embarrassing and am trying to reset my brain like an etch-a-sketch

sticking my tongue out. i've done this when the pool/lake water is really cool before. i've also done it in response to getting really excited when i'm reading--usually because my ship is sailing or some other cute moment

i hiss when annoyed. (if you haven't yet picked up on it: i've been around cats my whole life)

i sometimes growl when annoyed, but opposite of cats, i actually have to be more annoyed to growl rather than hiss (except when i'm growling at tv characters)

i get what my family calls "squeaky" most evenings. i'll be lying on the couch and i'll just start making these kinda squeaky-like sounds. these don't really have any kind of solidified meaning, but if i'm making them, it's safe to assume i'm comfortable and happy with my environment

if i'm overwhelmed and make a kind of whimpery/whine-like sound, it means i'm severely stressed by some element(s) of the environment and need to get away--even if that means i need to be physically led away (because sometimes i get to the point i'm so overwhelmed i can't even initiate moving on my own)

it may also mean i'm sad someone's leaving the room and am trying to playfully 'guilt' them into staying longer

if i want a hug, a lot of times, i'll just stand there kinda awkwardly as they finish what they were doing. sometimes they notice, sometimes they don't. mom's figured out what this means more than anyone else, so she recognizes it most frequently

i'm sure i have plenty more examples, but the post is getting long, so i'll wrap it up here :)

[marlasomething]

(my) Mag a Day Special Feature: The Melanie Protocol

Hello there! Here is the thing: I am participating in the "a mag a day" idea by @a-mag-a-day which is BRILLIANT and I decided to do "statement a week", rolling dice with the characters and fears that were ftw that week in the episodes I have listened. But, then, I thought...what if I made some special features for when each season finishes? AND THAT IS WHAT I DID INDEED. Yeah, publishing after the whole thing...heheh. The format is similar: roll dices for characters, main Fear, etc. But they are all going to be different interpretations of who Sam and Alice might be and how they "enter in contact" with TMA's universe. For season three I've got Jon and Melanie to be featured and "The Dark" as "The Baddie". Also, the relationship between Sam and Alice is 'first meeting'. As usual, please do forgive my quick tipper and non-native speaker mistakes, Marla Allons-y!

CW: family issues, existencial fear, self-steem issues

Also on AO3!

Sam was new to Oxford. Well, they were new to all the UK in general, literally having arrived two days before. And, still, they had a very official job at the Government. All just because an estranged father had decided that maybe his shamefully raised in Spain offspring was worthy of some attention.

First day, and the first thing they had noticed…the person that was supposed to be their partner and, hereof, whom they had expected to be more experienced…the one that had been supposed (at least, in their mind) to explain to them how everything worked… seemed just as lost and green as them.

“Alice, she and they pronouns, how…” Alice was more than twice their width (not that had much merit, though, come to think about it) and almost three heads taller. Still, she felt much smaller than them, as if she was just about to disappear from existence from one moment to another, happy to be swollen by the floor. “…As new as me, right?” she corrected herself, and carried on.

Sam wanted to eye-roll, but they had learned they could be a bit of a stuck-up, so they forced a smile that would haunt Alice until the day she died as they nodded and decided to focus on the task at hand. And for it, better if they and Alice felt comfortable with each other, even if she wasn’t the ideal partner they would have chosen.

“Well, we are supposed to see our superior, a guy named…Jonathan Sims-Delano; like the videogame and a rather silly nasty joke in Spanish (from the asshole)” they delivered the last words with a dramatic whisper, the other person chuckled and they counted it as a victory. “We could just…take a look around before, right? My father is always bragging about this storage unit where they keep the very few things that survived the destruction of The Magnus Institute…want to come?”

Alice shrugged; it wasn’t as if either of them had nothing better to do for another hour or so.

The orb was everything. The orb had always been everything and would always been everything.

It was pitch black and it contained multitudes and, simultaneously, nothing at all. It asked not to be understood and, for once in their life, Sam was happy with not trying to get to know The Truth behind everything. It was so tiring to try to Be…The Orb’s proposal was to simply relax and admit how insignificant they were…

…yes, they could stay here.

Next to them, Alice also stared, also half-smiling, finally allowed to let go to whatever had made them feel as if they didn’t matter in this World. Now, they really knew they didn’t matter, but because the Darkness of the Orb made them so little…this made sense, not like whatever they had been feeling before.

Nothing from before was worth anything.

Sam’s heart broke. The Orb had been brok…

WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT BLOODY THING?! WHAT HAVE IT BEING DOING TO THEM?!

A very small woman-presenting person in their early thirties they recognised after a few seconds of self-re-composition from their haunted houses marathons was still hitting the orb with a baseball that had mesmerised both Alice and them.

“MELANIE KING?!”

“OH MY GOD, YES, I AM NOT THE BLOODY QUEEN, NO NEED FOR THAT TONE?! AND WHAT THE FUCK YOU TWO THOUGHT WERE DOING DOWN HERE?! JON HAS BEEN WAITING AND, AFTER WHAT HAPPENED WHEN SASHA, DECIDED TO HIDE HERE TO GIVE A… FORMER FRIEND OF OURS A SURPRISE…” she gulped as words that made no sense for either of the new employers kept coming out of her mouths, almost vomited. Then, she carried on with the same strength (and, in all earnest, borderline murderous voice): “LET’S JUST SAY: DEPARTMENT STORE, OFF LIMITS FROM NOW ON, YOU DIMWITS. AND IF YOU SEE ANYONE CALLING THEMSELVES SASHA JAMES, FUCKING RUN. UNDERSTOOD? Now, go speak with Jon, he is easy to recognise; he is the guy who looks just a little more stuck-up than…” she realised she was missing their names and made a face that, in a more relaxed context, would have been comedic.

“I don’t know, I was the only one that introduce themselves” Alice intervened and Sam felt hurt.

“We have barely met and you already think I am a stuck-up? Also, I am Sam”.

Alice smiled shyly again and, for an instance, Sam forgot about the World.

“Sorry, Sam ”.

A clear ahem from behind them made them turn, both with red cheeks. A dark-skinned thin man with glasses and a weird mixed vibe of punk-rock activist and ancient librarian was staring at them. He could have been cousins with Giles from Buffy .

“Sam and Alice, right? You can call me Jon; half-sorry about Melanie’s behaviour…now, let’s get outside this place.

            Welcome to The Magnus Protocol project.”

[popblank]

Adding onto this post, I wanted to say thanks to everyone for their kind comments and replies!

More on these topics:

It occurred to me: why was I thinking of Tamara (and MT's Tamara in particular) as "upper middle class" when she married into aristocracy? I think it was mostly because 1) her Tamara really reminded me of specific people I have met in that category, and 2) there was a sort of a casual expectation of privilege combined with fear of losing that privilege which I associate with the upper middle class. (Though there’s also this article where Carson Kreitzer mentions EE’s “natural regality” so that could be part of the contrast as well.) It would make some sense if there were a perceptible class difference between Tamara and Tadeusz. During “Our Time,” she mentions that her father being "a merchant Jew" was an issue in their marriage arrangement (while the person favored by Tadeusz's family was "so proper"), which implies that both the class difference and the religious difference matter. Tamara also shushes Tadeusz when he alludes to the two of them having slept together before marriage, and he dismisses her concern saying, "What? It's just us," when there is obviously another person in the room—the person Tamara is using as a model for her painting (Masha?), who seems to be a household servant. Since Tamara orders her over to let Tadeusz wipe his hands on her skirt, Tamara is aware of her as someone that Tamara can order around and use, but Tadeusz doesn't even register Masha as a person. (The class difference could also explain why Tamara later thinks, “to get money I should just get a job” while Tadeusz is like, “Work??? Eww, embarrassing.”)

@muffins-for-days Re: Eden being silly, that does remind me of a couple of moments :).  There is the one at the beginning of the group show scene when the Baroness makes a snide (and funny) comment to Tamara about how nice it must be to show her work "indoors, at last," and poor blindsided Tamara can't quite figure out how to respond and nods awkwardly several times like a bobblehead desperate for approval. By that time we had already seen that she could be silly in private (the madeleines), but I was a little surprised at that specific gesture because this seemed like it was very much exaggerated for the audience vs. something literally happening within the scene. Then again the scene itself does call attention to the jokes with the little triangle "ding" played each time. On occasion the show presented this sort of campiness (sometimes deliberate, sometimes I wasn’t sure) which could have been a source of confusion about what tone it was trying to convey.

Though now I wonder, what is it about Tamara that the Baroness is so skeptical about (at least in Act 1)? Is she tired of the Baron picking up strays, as Marinetti puts it? Does she sense the Baron's little crush developing? Or maybe with her unusually clear sense of people’s emotions, she can poke at whatever people might be sensitive about – and Tamara really wants to have her artistic ability acknowledged. It’s not the worst insult, I guess; it at least acknowledges her progress, so it’s a little less mean than a comment on say, her bodily functions (hey maybe that other street artist just sweats a lot & he can't help it).

More silliness: there was also a moment in the final show in the same scene when Marinetti commented about all the promising young artists having the opportunity to "unzip and whip it out to measure – so what did you bring?" He then headed over to look at her paintings, but EE as Tamara paused to look down at herself before turning to hear his comments. I remember that getting a laugh from the audience and wasn't sure if she had done that in other shows or if it was intended to be anything other than a funny moment. But if we run with that... characters in the show repeatedly suggest Tamara wants to be a man (socially, if not literally). Could she be considering the idea? What would she be thinking? My guess: "I’d win.” (I’m fairly certain I’ve heard or read Eden Espinosa comment somewhere about Tamara’s BDE.)

Edit note: I made one update within the post (changed "muted trumpet" to "muted horn" since I finally looked more closely at the Playbill and the only brass instrument in the orchestra credits is a French horn (oops) played by Zohar Schondorf, so I assume that’s who is playing that note.

Been trying to gather my thoughts about Tamara de Lempicka as a character, and the difference between Eden Espinosa’s Tamara vs. Mariand Torres’s Tamara:

EE’s Tamara: Her Tamara seemed to me to be a little more self-serious and intense to the point where it both fed into the humor (e.g. when she meets the street painter and very earnestly steps in to try to correct his perspective while completely missing his offended reaction), but also informed her interactions with basically everyone else she interacted with. That focused seriousness and disregard/cluelessness about others’ feelings really made a lot of little moments—especially with Kizette, Rafaela, and Tadeusz—more understandable.

I remember thinking after seeing the show in La Jolla that she had done a very good and solid job as Tamara, but something about the performance was a little bit out of focus. I’m not even sure what that missing element even was, but between La Jolla and Broadway it seemed like she found the central spark; by the time I saw it at the Longacre it was the kind of performance (for me at least, if not the professional critics) where you’d jump out of your seat for bows, because she fully embodied that central role in such a way that it’s hard for me to think of the character of Tamara and not think of her in it.

MT’s Tamara: Her Tamara seemed a little lighter than EE’s in both vocal tone and personality. To me she came across as a blithely self-involved upper-middle class lady whom you might not take seriously until you find (to your surprise) that she has steamrolled right over you to get what she wants, and she herself might not even notice that she has done so. I liked her “I Will Paint Her” a lot, but I thought she also was excellent in “Speed” and “Just This Way” – she really conveyed the sense of sorrow and despair (with an interesting little dash of entitlement) from losing Tadeusz and Rafaela.

(On a less meaningful note, Mariand Torres seems to be slightly shorter than Eden Espinosa, and I remember feeling worried during some parts of “Woman Is” when Tamara is running up and down the stairs with her long robe open and billowing behind her, which seemed like it could easily snag or cause a mishap. Thankfully it didn’t!)

The moment that for me best illustrated the difference in the portrayals between Eden Espinosa’s Tamara vs. Mariand Torres’s Tamara happened early in the show, when Tamara’s mother tells her on her wedding day, “Don’t forget to smile. You’ll be surprised where a pretty smile can take you.” What I remember is that EE’s Tamara halfheartedly attempted a smile that looked much more like a grimace, while MT’s Tamara pasted on a smile that was bright, pretty, and fake. So I see MT’s Tamara as one who is better at putting on the façade.  

The second example that I found interesting was in “I Will Paint Her.” I have always interpreted “I Will Paint Her” as Tamara almost (but not quite) understanding that the overwhelming feelings she has upon seeing Rafaela for the first time are actually romantic and/or sexual, and not solely artistic inspiration. The humor is one of my favorite aspects of this song, and I just find that interpretation funnier than the alternatives. (The muted horn sound after the line “she’s just a woman who’s pretty” makes me laugh, because it’s as if the music itself is having a *looks into the camera* moment.)

One reason I like EE’s “I WIll Paint Her” is that her emotions are bursting forth and only occasionally (on those “I will…” pauses) she realizes what she’s been saying; she seems to be surprised by herself, and in trying to grasp at reasons why she’s feeling this way, she lands on what she currently knows best, which is “art.” I did really like MT’s “I Will Paint Her” as well, but after the “I will…” pauses, her follow-up seemed a lot more deliberate and knowing. In the moment I thought she was just overemphasizing the point for the audience, but thinking back on it, it could also be that she is more aware of where her thoughts and feelings are leading, so she is trying to regain her decorum and maintain a little plausible deniability. (You could interpret EE’s version this way too, really, but I am just choosing not to.)