#i tried to love and accept exactly who they are

[starheirxero]

[rez]

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Anyway

Hope Castor can help Lunar.

Or atleast point him in the right direction.

I think Lunar is finally facing himself really.

And I understand wanting him out of the house but like- why are they surprised he ran away?

Thats like what Lunar does? He ran for months after he died, him running away is par for the course. And he was gone for three days because he was in jail? They didn't even accept that, they just got mad at him for running. As if Monty hadn't actually decided he was gonna kill Lulu.

Like Lunar would probably be dead if he'd stayed, or atleast injured.

'We do still love you and youre still our little brother'

-They say as they irepibly damage any and all trust Lunar had in them at the moment and in the future.

Moon I understand you want him to actually face consequences but there's no going back from this!

Lunar will never trust you, or anyone else in this family, again.

Castor pleasepleaseplease be the one who finds him.

Ohhh how I want to see more Pollux and Castor interactions bc as I said in another ask that idk if you received Cas almost seems to be avoiding talking to her specifically about Lulu.

That or Lunar gets kidnapped again.

More specifically by the creator so gem (or even just Cas) have to save him

But with Gemini separate there's also the possibility rez or someone else targets one of the twins while the other is away so thatd be neat.

ALL OF THIS NODNODNOD!!!!!!

I think Castor choosing to help Lunar while Pollux doesn't would be really interesting from a Gemini perspective. They're the twins, they make up one astral, one constellation together. If they truly become divided over this, I would be deeply fascinated to see where it goes from there since we got so used to seeing them as Gemini—a collective entity—rather than themselves.

And YEAH LIKE. Listen. I know that to the family, because they don't actually have the full picture, it looks like Lunar is just a loose canon that attacked Earth in a fit and then dipped. But also LUNAR TRIED TO EXPLAIN THAT THEY WERE IN LITERALLY INCAPABLE OF RETURNING SOONER BC THEY WERE JAILED AND THEN REZ PUT THEM ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE GLOBE. AND MOON JUST WENT "I DON'T CARE." LIKE CMON 😭 "why were you gone for 3 days" "i was jailed and then left in russia" "whatever i dont care" MOON WHEN I GET YOU.......

THE "I LOVE YOUS" BETWEEN IT ALL YEAH.

I'm sorry but no amount of "you are family and we love you" is going to lessen the blow of "you have basically been squatting in my house (that i invited you into and you've been paying rent for) and you're a danger to this entire family so I want you to never speak or get near any of us until you sort yourself out." ESPECIALLY WHEN MOON SAID "YOU'RE LUCKY I EVEN STILL CONSIDER YOU FAMILY" LIKE I'M SORRY BUT THAT'S WILD. Again, I understand Moon in this situation. That does not mean I don't think he wasn't insanely rude LMAO 😭

Exactly like you said, Moon cannot undo this. Lunar has always looked up to old Moon and so I cannot imagine how much more it hurts coming from him. I honestly can't imagine a clear future where Lunar is going to feel safe amongst their own family again, knowing that they all viewed them as dangerous enough to be kicked out. Honestly, I'm half expecting this to end up as "Lunar lives independently and then realizes they actually feel better not living around their family and that they were kinda awful for them on accident" HDKSHDJS

YEA MORE CASTOR N POLLUX INTERACTIONS WOULD BE GREAT...... Yesyes I have received ur other ask and I'm actually gunna answer it after this one but GHOD yeah. Seeing them disagree abt smth is so interesting and I need more of it....... If one twin is hurt tho,,,,,,, ouhg. The Angst........

[narcissosbythepool]

John didn't think he'd ever feel this way again.

His life has been a tapestry of almosts and ones-who-got-aways. At some point he just accepted that what he wanted was just out of reach. He would marry himself to the job and be done with it, think about it again if he survived until retirement. Surely there were people who would find a veteran interesting. Alluring. Hot even.

Love is a chore – a necessary evil, something he tries to bury and procrastinate but every now and then it peeks its curious head out and leads him right into trouble. By now he knows to expect it, to feel fondness spill over the floor like sunlight through curtains, and staunchly ignore it even when it lingers.

He doesn't expect Kyle.

He tries not to play favourites and fails miserably – Kyle's just too good to let go, and John wants to monopolise him before anyone else can. Kyle is his perfect soldier, everything he could ask for. Here it comes again – his curiousity gets the better of him again. His affection for Kyle turns him inside out and exposes him with all of his vulnerabilities.

*

The firefight is intense and before John knows it, he's on the ground, his head spinning and a pressure somewhere on the right. He's hit – but he can't tell where, just that he's not in pain, and that could be very bad news.

A figure appears on top of him and John grits his teeth, willing his body to move to grab his knife and stab whoever this fucker is—

And then he's stopped as the figure leans closer, saying something that's becoming clearer and clearer.

"Price? Boss, can you hear me?"

"Aye," John groans and Kyle sighs in relief.

"It looks like your helmet got clipped by a bullet. How are you feeling?" His brown eyes are full of worry and something in John's chest twinges at the sight.

"Fine," John replies and tries to sit up, but his strength leaves him. Kyle rushes to steady him so he doesn't hit his head and the feeling of being held in Kyle's arms is like having another concussion.

John tests his strength again, but it's not yet there, and he's acutely aware that they're running out of time. "Oh, fuck it. Advance without me, Gaz. I'll follow you when I get myself sorted."

"I'm not leaving you," Kyle says with determination and John has to admit he was hoping that Kyle would fight back.

"That's an order, Sergeant."

"And you have a concussion."

"Possibly." He can't exactly deny it, his vision blurring until it's only focused on Kyle.

"So I'm taking over."

"Since when did you get so mutinous," John mutters and Kyle gives him a brilliant smile.

"Learned from the best."

John's heart skips a beat.

Funny, he thinks, over this?

But there's no denying it. His heart beats faster, as if a hound racing towards some truth now that it has the scent of it, and something settles over him wholly and completely.

Bloody hell. Certainly a place and time to find out.

"You alright there, Boss? Stay awake with me, now."

"I'm awake," John says, and he wants to laugh. "I'm awake."

[tgmsunmontue]

Saga of Solitude 15/21

Nepo!Baby Bradley and his life at USNA and afterwards. DADT fully in force. IceMav AU. (Begun prior to 'It's not who you know' - the non-angsty version). (Side Hangster, which is ALSO angsty).

PROLOGUE (He remembers)

HANGSTER FIRST MEETING (Lonely Nights - set 2009)

PREVIOUS CHAPTERS

ONE (2000) TWO (2001) THREE (2002) FOUR (2003) FIVE (2004) SIX (2005) SEVEN (2006) EIGHT (2007) NINE (2008) TEN (2009) ELEVEN (2010) TWELVE (2011) THIRTEEN (2012) FOURTEEN (2013)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN – 2014

                Tom has it narrowed down to three candidates. He’s been chipping away at figuring it out, not making it a top priority, but definitely something he keeps circling back to. The man who he wants to keep a closer eye on, even if it’s been five years he suspects that Bradley hasn’t exactly forgotten him. He had tried gentle probing questions, only to have them deftly avoided. Clever of him, and Tom knows he’s no doubt had practice from when he was younger and serving under DADT as well as protecting Tom and Pete’s own relationship.

                However Bradley hasn’t even told Natasha, because he’d also carefully asked her and she’d simply blinked at him in surprise before shaking her head, saying she didn’t know anything, but that if Bradley had slept with anyone he’d been very discreet, because she heard gossip, and there hasn’t been any about Bradley. Well. Other than him apparently being secretly married to her. Tom doesn’t know why he should even care so much, other than Bradley is his son and he wants to protect him as much as possible, despite the fact that Bradley is now over thirty and more than capable of looking after himself. He has his own house, not that he stays there very often, preferring to be in the center of things and being here in the family home with Tamsin and Petra.

                Except Tamsin and Petra are growing up too, Tamsin in her last semester of high school. She’s been accepted into California-Irvine and he’s so proud but he is also not prepared at all for her to move away. He’s glad she’s decided to stay within state at least, and he knows Bradley likely helped sway her in that decision. Which is why he wants to find some way to ensure Bradley is never held back in anyway. So he’ll keep trying to work out exactly who it is that he still so hooked up on.

…            …            …

                “She’s going to prom,” Pete says again, and he knows he’s maybe belaboring the point, but also he can’t believe that Tamsin is in her last year of high school, is so capable and accomplished and intelligent. Hell, she runs circles around him on the regular and yet he can’t fathom how the little baby girl he held in his arms over seventeen years ago is now taller than him. A fact everyone seems to great joy in pointing out to him, however he can still pick her up and carry her. Her boyfriend hasn’t stopped trying to impress them, and Pete can’t say he likes the young man, and he has tried, thank you very much Bradley.

                “Wish I could have gone to prom with you…” Ice says, stepping in close and wrapping his arms around Pete’s waist. He leans into him, never feels safer than when he’s like this.

                “Yeah? You want to dance with me?”

                “Always…”

                “We pretending we’re at prom?” Pete asks with a grin and Ice smiles, the soft-gentle half smile he uses when he’s feeling particularly sentimental. He feels Ice’s arms tighten around him and there isn’t any music, but then Ice starts humming quietly and his own smile grows wider and he presses a kiss into the side of Ice’s neck. “God I love you…”

                “Love you too. So much Pete… Did you ever think we’d get to have this life?”

                Pete startles a little, surprised at the question.

                “Of course…”

                “Seriously?”

                “You didn’t?”

                “Not in my wildest dreams. Every day I am grateful I get to have… all of this. You. Bradley, The girls. Sarah and Melissa. Hell, even Aubrey is a blessing.”

                “We are very lucky. Want to get luckier?”

                “This was a nice moment…”

                “It’ll be even nicer soon. Let me take you to bed?”

                “Yeah. Please.”

                “Mmm. Begging already. I like it.”

                “Begging you to stop talking. You used to be a man of action, not words…”

                “Pfft. I’ll show you action…”

                “In a bed Mav, come on.”

                They undress with no haste, helping each other, trading kisses and running hands over bare skin as it’s revealed, Ice’s touch on him causing repeated full-body tingles, they always have. He hopes his own touch has the same effect, thinks it does with the way Ice shivers and presses against him, murmurs his name quietly under his breath and kisses at the soft skin just behind his ear. He presses a gentle kiss over the newly healed port scar from Ice’s cancer treatments, suddenly overwhelmed that he too is grateful that he gets to have all this. He’d have been content with just Ice to call his own, but to have his odd little family, to have a son and two daughters who are all turning into these amazing individuals.

                “Pete…” Ice says, voice deep and raspy, the way it gets when he’s just woken up or when he’s getting really turned on. Then there are warm dry fingers wrapping around his cock and he follows Ice down onto the bed, lets his hands find purchase on Ice’s hips as he rocks against him. It’s warm and comforting, and despite wanting everything else to go fast in his life, this, with Ice right now, is something he’s happy to draw out. Knowing they don’t have to rush, not the hard-fast-desperate times that they had in the beginning, terrified of being caught.

                He’s married to this man, it’s on his record and they live together, always come home to the same place. He realizes he didn’t think he’d get to have this, but he had always hoped and dreamed he would. That despite everything he’s damned lucky and he shouldn’t take what they have for granted.

                “You want to fuck me?” Pete asks, straddling Ice’s thighs and grinding his erection in a rocking motion against Ice’s.

                “Yes.”

                He grins then, knows his face is probably scrunched up in happiness but he doesn’t care. They don’t do this very often, it’s more effort than either of them are usually wanting to put in, but sometimes it’s exactly what they both want. He leans back, rolls off the bed and pulls open the bedside table drawer for lube; hears Ice shuffle off to grab towels. He follows, uses the glass on the sink to have two large glasses of water.

                “You planning on working up a sweat?”

                “Yeah… you better be able to keep up.”

                Ice snorts at that, but follows his example and throws back a glass of water, but his eyes stay on him, the light grey-blue shaded darker with arousal and Pete’s cock jerks in anticipation. Ice, being the smug bastard he is, and because he knows him so well smirks, lets one of his hands come to rest on Pete’s flank, fingers digging and rubbing and pulling him close so they can rub together. He’s being moved, Ice using his height and breadth to encourage him back to the bedroom, like he somehow needs convincing.

                “Hi…”

                “Hi. Can we…”

                “Always trying to rush…”

                “Not this. Not with you.”

                “I know.”

                Then he’s on his back, Ice dragging him so his hips are raised on a couple of pillows, which are covered with one of the towels. Ice kisses him, then there’s the slick slide of fingers between his ass cheeks and he reaches blindly for him, needs to touch him so he can feel grounded, know that Ice is there with him. It’s not fast, Ice always takes his time, makes sure now that he’s not going to cause any pain or even discomfit. Pete has learnt that he’s allowed to just lie back and enjoy. The whole preparation aspect is something Ice takes pleasure in, the building anticipation and knowledge he has time, permitted to touch Pete and make him feel good. He does that now, their years together making him an expert in Pete’s body.

                Pete doesn’t often have the patience for this; time shifts and passes in a liquid state, seconds measured in kisses against his skin, minutes in the growing and easing pressure of fingers stretching him. He’s hard and leaking, feels like Ice has been driving him around the edge of a whirlpool for hours and he’s just waiting for them to get sucked down together. He feels Ice’s cock push into him and he lets out a groan, cants his hips to make the press deeper and let’s Ice manhandle him so his legs are around his waist.

                “Ice…”

                “Yeah. I got you Mav…”

…            …            …

                He’s home five weeks early, and they’re managing to pull it off, and god, if he makes her cry and her mascara runs she’s going to kill him. But it’s her prom night and while they’d planned on him arriving during a school assembly to surprise her, they’ve modified it because she’s going to prom alone because her boyfriend is an asshole.

                So.

                Bradley is going to turn up in his dress whites, sweep her off her feet and he’s going to consider himself lucky if Tamsin doesn’t punch him. She’s standing with a group of her friends, nearly all of whom he recognizes, Ice and Mav are failing at hiding behind a pillar, Petra with them and looking bored. A lot of sets of eyes are on him and he can see someone making a signal for the music to be turned down, and that has Tamsin and her group look around and he steps forward, hand out stretched.

                “Can I have this dance?”

                “Bradley!”

                Then he’s being hugged tightly, she looks so grown up and he’s reminded again that parents do this all the time; that he works with some who leave their young kids for months at a time and he’s simply an older brother. He steps back to take in her dress and hair, is pretty sure Mav and Tom probably had collective heart attacks given the split up the side.

                “You look amazing.”

                “I know!” she laughs. “It took hours. I cannot believe that some people do this every day before they leave their homes…”

                There’s applause and he’s got the usual thanks for your service and he nods and smiles his way through it all, because he’s in the service to fly planes because he can’t imagine doing anything else, and if it has the added bonus of serving his country then that’s okay. But he knows what came first for him.

                He dances with Tamsin, can actually dance the more formal and traditional dances but steps away when she starts throwing her hands up to a song he doesn’t recognize. So this is what old age begins to feel like. Ice and Mav have left, and some of Tamsin’s teachers come and introduce themselves, and he finds it a little alarming that one of them is in fact younger than him, the others only a few years older and he hopes his freak out about being his age isn’t showing on his face.

                “You’re actually in the Navy huh?” a man asks, and he thinks this is Tamsin’s English teacher.

                “Yes. These are my actual dress whites. Thought I’d try and make tonight better after her boyfriend decided to dump her.”

                “Ah yes, he’s a bit of a social pariah now. Tamsin is well liked.”

                “Good. She’s awesome.”

                “The words of a completely unbiased bystander, I’m sure,” the guy says with a gentle teasing smile and Bradley turns slightly, thinks he’s being flirted with.

                “Protective and proud older brother instincts aren’t ever going to go away. I’ll be in a rocking chair and I’ll still think she’s awesome.”

                The glint of something intensifies and Bradley raises an eyebrow, licks his lips and doesn’t miss the other man’s eyes flick down to the movement.

                He is never telling Tamsin that he got a blowjob from her English teacher, however he also doesn’t feel like he’s so ancient after all, so he’ll definitely count it as a win.

…            …            …

                Tom isn’t an idiot. When Petra turns sixteen he very politely recuses himself from even being an option to teach her how to drive. He did it with Bradley and Tamsin. Petra is another thing entirely, and he knows Pete has already let her drive his motorbikes up and down the airstrip at the hangar, has no doubt that she’s already done the same with a car. He can only hope that Pete doesn’t make any exceptions around safety. He doesn’t expect he will, he never has with Bradley or Tamsin. It’s only his own body he’s a little reckless with. They both come back super excited, fizzing with more energy than he knows what to with and later when they’re curled up in bed Pete admits he knows what he’s going to get Petra for Christmas. Laps at the nearest racecourse.

                Tom sighs.

…            …            …

                “Hey Bradley?”

                “Yeah Pet?”

                “If you try and pull that prom bullshit on me I will castrate you and make you wish you’d never been born. Got it?”

                Bradley snorts.

                “Yeah. Got it. Is that a no surprises ever, or just big public ones where you might cry?”

                “No public ones. Nice surprises are fine.”

                “Okay. Well I’ll try and keep the big public displays saved up for Tamsin.”

                “Yeah. That sounds good.”

…            …            …

                “I have to look over these promotion recommendations before sending them on to the SECNAV. We’ve got a young aviator who chalked up an air-to-air kill, so he’s being recommended for accelerated promotion to Lieutenant… A Jake Seresin.”

                Tom recognizes the name immediately. Jake Seresin. He remembers having dinner with him, he’d been polite and engaging, flown in a way that made him itch to be in the sky again. He’s also on the very short list of men that are potentially Bradley’s ill-advised hookup that he is adamant about leaving the fuck alone. Tom isn’t so sure, but also he’s got a feeling in his gut that this is him. That Jake Seresin is the young man that Bradley hooked up with. Which makes him worth his attention, but it doesn’t stop him from halting the other man’s career trajectory. He signs the paperwork giving his recommendation for promotion and asks for an invitation to the ceremony.

…            …            …

                “Jake.”

                “Lieutenant Bradshaw.”

                Bradley bites back his immediate retort, because he guesses he deserves that.

                “Congratulations on the promotion.”

                “I’m sorry, are you talking to me now?”

                “Well, we’re currently the same rank so I can’t have the fraternization rules thrown at me as a warning. So yeah, I guess I’m talking to you…” Bradley starts, even knowing that the previous difference in their ranks is a weak excuse for his previous behavior.

                “Yeah well, I’m not listening. Catch you around Bradshaw.”

                Fuck.

                So much for trying to apologize.

[katerinaaqu]

One can argue that modernity is by definition the absence of form and that everything can change but either way again I completely disagree with the notion that there is no other way it could be successful. And many fans even got disappointed at the changes and all. Again we have so much connected the idea of "retelling" with "forget the plot" sometimes and it shows to all the "modern retellings" how they miss the point of the material they ellegedly adapt by a mile. Is your opinion and good for you to have it but again I disagree big time. It is a matter of marketing sometimes and like I said many people got disappointed at the changes as well. Many even said "we ignored the changes because music was good" and again i disagree. You might claim that and I can counter we shall never know again I disagree that you cannot be lore accurate. That is my opinion that's all.

I never meant to say over 3 hours although i see why it comes out this way. I meant 3 hours is a length that one expects a performance to have. And again I said many times over that he doesn't need to adapt every single moment of the Odyssey and turn it into a 5 hour thing. I said it would be better to be lore accurate. I literally said nothing of speeding up. Where on earth did that come from? On the contrary. In fact the last saga WAS sped up and it showed to the narrative.

Actually they were not to the Odyssey but to epic cycle and AGAIN that is exactly what I said. I said the first two sagas proved that you can have a LOOSE ADAPTATION (not 100% acurate) and STILL be lore-acurate. Astyanax incident was spoken in just one line in the Iliou Persis. It was given a reason in the musical. THAT is what I expect to see in an adaptation; liberties that work WITH the plot and fill in some gaps. Not something that says "fuck the plot I'll do whatever" that is not an adaptation in my mind or at least not a good one but it also depends on the media.

And I never said you did?! 🤷‍♀️ I said that is the feeling I got from some people who loved the musical who couldn't understand my dislike for it. Where did I say you said that? I said that they state their opinion on THAT matter like you express your opinion on THIS matter. And again why can't you accept that someone has a different idea on what a retelling is? You can say it is. I say it isn't because I do not agree in this method and a story that ignores the most basic parts of a plot does not count as a retelling in my book. It is an original story inspired by a material.

I put the emoji for a reason my friend. I was only half serious on that answer. I am honored you enjoyed my posts which is why also I engage with you and I express my opinion sincerely and directly because I believe we can be honest with each other. And when I said "don't expect me to change my mind" I meant that as an emphasis that I respect your opinion but I would continue to express the same thought and say that I disagree. If that offended you in any way that was not my intention. I see that you are passionate on your subject and I am on mine so I only "warned you" that my answer will still be the same. I NEVER said you are trying to push your opinion on me now I believe YOU shouldn't misunderstand me. I only mention that my opinion will continue to be the same.

And I said a hundred times already that I do not say you try to do the same and I also said that I didn't feel like that with most of fans either. You keep insisting on that but again all I said was that I disagree with you. Why do you feel attacked? If my previous reply seemed harsh I am sorry but again I didn't say you tried to push your opinion I only state what I do with mine.

Okay right back at you. I feel that you are not listening what I say. I again said I do not consider it a retelling because it literally respects nothing of the plot. It is not re-telling the story it is a writing of a new one (again that is my opinion). You disagreed and I disagree. Why do you keep saying that I accuse you of something? Also I said a million times you do not need a word for word thing to have a loyal adaptation. I also stated it a hundred times. Cutting is inevitable. THIS amount of change was optional.

I see. You definitely are free to do so. Honestly it is sad that it comes this way but you absolutely can and you have the right to do so. I am sorry you felt this way perhaps that is because I express my opinion too passionately the same as you. It happens. I am sorry that it comes this way. No I do not block people. If others wish to block me is up to them. It wouldn't be the first time. It is up to you. You do not need to earn Mr for it and I do not live for followers or people who block me

I know I am not a pleasant person and never claimed to be. I am who I am. If that is so unpleasant to you that you wish nothing to do with me is up to you really. No need to warn me about it.

You realize that a fandom has gone off the rails or that it has REALLY taken over when you see "Epic the Musical" tagged under images of Achilles and Patroclus! Like...how are two characters who were both dead by the taking of Troy, yet alone by Odyssey who do not appear not even as a mention for the Underworld as they were in the Odyssey, relatable to this?!

Sorry! XD

[fenniefrost]

I think one of the hardest things in my life is having so much love and respect to others to the best of my ability. And knowing, through painstaking hardship and abuse, that for certain people, no amount of love, care, understanding, or respect towards them will ever make them treat you the same in return. No amount of love or attempts at understanding will be enough for certain people to heal, grow, or change their ways.

There are some people who exist, that no matter how much you give them unconditional love and respect, will still believe they should have the right to hurt you or take your rights away. And honestly, I will never understand. Their attempts to turn me into someone hateful/fearful like them never broke me, and I still believe in the hope that love exists. The only thing that changed was that I love myself enough now to not tolerate them hurting me anymore. And I hope anyone else with a kind heart also finds peace knowing you weren't the problem. You tried your best. And you deserve to be treated with kindness too.

[backpackingspace]

Odysseus with his head in his wife's lap, happily not paying attention to anything, humming one of athenas song and carving something

Some random guy: your majesty----

Odysseus: not bothering to sit up: whatever my wife decided is fine.

[pepprs]

my depression is getting really really bad. like it’s been bad before but this is like… consistently really bad. like a long unending stretch for several weeks (and tbh months) now. to the point where no inoculation actually sticks (and im isolating myself from most of my inoculations anyway and feel unable to stop doing it even though i know it’s self destructive). im either helplessly unbearably miserable or numbing out on video games. i just don’t feel like it’s going to get better for me and i KNOW that is factually untrue but the feeling is louder than the knowledge and it’s just utterly immobilizing. ive been sinking in quicksand for 2 years.

[thesauce8]

dude, i know this is crazy, but i promise i only found you here by accident. this is funny. anyways, half of what you said i didnt say or you misunderstood, but you blocked me before i could clarify. tt format is very unhelpful when you need to flush things out, so i probably didnt properly articulate my point over there. i told you i wanted to help you understand (or for you to help me understand your point), but you were having none of it. when we were talking, i kept citing my sources for my beliefs through quotes but you refused to cite yours and just retorted that i was wrong. i cant exactly look back at my comments, but if i started out rude or judgmental, i apologize. that was immature of me. ive seen a lot of misinterpretation of obito, so i tend to assume the worst.

i didnt say that obito didnt love rin (and if i did, it means i phrased myself very poorly, but i remember clarifying this in a later comment), i said that the romantic aspect of their relationship was completely unrelated to the conflict obito faced with kakashi (post-accident) and the world because your video and caption phrased it in a way that made it seem like you thought the conflict was breeded from it. obito and rin being besties is the important part that a lot of people ignore in favor of painting obito as a simp and diminishing the depth of their bond. the crush and any contempt derived from it towards kakashi was only relevant pre-accident, which i said because you stated in your caption something about obito needing to accept rin chose kakashi when referring to her death.

i am willing to hear you out on obito blaming kakashi *if you cite your sources!!* please give me a quote or something because thats what i use to form my opinions. the reason i dont think obito blames kakashi is because right after rins death, he says he didnt kill kakashi because he didnt care about what happens to him since he’ll see the real him in the IT. he didnt know rin killed herself, but he also didnt seem to have a particularly strong (or existing) hatred towards kakashi. if you give me a quote that shows he did hate him, i wont be stubborn.

i also dont know where you got me saying kakashi and obito werent friends? i said they werent best friends; rin and obito were. they had a rivalry and cared about each other, but their relationship was a little rocky, and obito states that they were just starting to get along right before his consciousness faded after getting crushed by the rock.

obito trying to kill kakashi doesnt mean he hates him (sounds crazy, i know, but its not impossible). obito dissociates and sees this kakashi as a “fake”. he tries to kill and mocks kakashi because of practicality. killing is what you do to those who oppose you (when youre a villain lol) since they’re problematic. mocking him throws him off his game, which makes it easier to kill him. the real kakashi is gonna be in the IT, and he’ll see him there. this kakashi is also a connection to his past self, which may contribute to his desire to eliminate him.

its the same reason he kills so many people despite wanting everyone to live in a world free of pain and suffering. to him, these people are imposters, and the real them (and him) will exist within the infinite tsukuyomi. this kakashi is scum, he himself is scum, everyone who isnt scum will become scum. he didnt experience a change of philosophy when he offered kakashi peace in the IT because he didnt call kakashi scum out of hatred. he knows that the world forced kakashi to become scum, so he doesnt blame him for rins death, and thats why he feels this world is a hell. it forces everyone to either become scum or dead.

as you can see, a whole essay was needed for me to explain my thoughts, which might explain any poor delivery on the app that heavily limits the amount of characters you can use in a comment. i still think its hilarious that this came up on my home page. its possible youll block me here too, but at least my thoughts have been released in full.

sooo chat apparently obito never loved rin, obito & rin we’re only best friends, apparently obito never blamed kakashi at first (before he got over it and told him he STOPPED blaming him), apparently obito & kakashi never were friends at one point or got along until the tree incident. 🤷🏽‍♂️

as if obito didn’t hate and blame kakashi for the entire incident at first and tried to kill bro buuuut okay! :))))) those are the kind of comments I’ve been getting on TikTok for talking about the kakashi obito rin situation xDD but no none of that stuff happened (being sarcastic).

[toytulini]

thinking about my oc Bytte. and. her gender is Aro. her Aromanticism is inextricable from her gender experience.

[lith-myathar]

.

[infizero]

shut UPPPPPPPPPPP someone just put the clip of tiny manticore telling betty "maybe you're going after someone who doesn't exist anymore" with simon trying to bring back betty back ohhhh i feel sick

[dearmyloveleys]

I think your thoughts are interesting because they quite echo Yan An’s thoughts on Li Lun as well! Yan An emphasises a few times that he doesn’t wish for audiences to misunderstand Li Lun but rather, see Li Lun as a person who is only fighting for a homeland and his own species (who has been tortured by humans). I think the Li Lun VS Zhu Yan is one that makes an intriguing moral focal argument, one that he Li Lun says (along the lines of this, can’t remember exactly, am writing this from the bed): Laws in terms of who? What? The laws of Heaven? The laws of men?

Who is right and who is wrong?

But as Wen Xiao acutely puts it: Both humans and demons have good and bad. Things like one’s nature are never ever one-sided.

I love Li Lun but I also can’t excuse him because he indeed killed others and went to extreme lengths to harm the team. His “villainy” came from nothing more than his inability to understand the views of the other side — which is sad because he has shown the ability to appreciate humanity (Well, I guess the human world can be interesting). But before he can fully do that, the whole dungeon plot happens and he never gets the chance to explore more with Zhu Yan. His vengeance overtakes him, settling only on one side of the argument. Even his reasoning for destroying the Baize Token is for demons to go into the human world freely — though ZYZ also acutely points out: Why are you not giving demons a choice to stay in the Wilderness? What if they want to stay? This again highlights Li Lun’s flaw of not being able to see nuance. (Then again, he never ventures out of the Wilderness on his own. Not defending him but giving him some moral merit here, he would literally have 0 reason to empathise with humans). Of course, as Zhu Yan, he cannot accept this.

Though I must also agree that Zhu Yan could have talked to Li Lun more. Throughout the illusion sequence in Ep19, even though there is anger and hatred in the way Li Lun speaks and treats Zhu Yan, there is some frustration in Li Lun as he doesn’t understand why Zhu Yan would choose the team over him. I guess Zhu Yan never really put the reason why clearly into words. Zhu Yan only chastises him: You still don’t understand. If I were Li Lun I would honestly be like, understand what? This is all I understand, please elaborate.

Interestingly, only when ZYC calls Li Lun out for every poor behaviour he has displayed, does Li Lun break out of his suspended one-sided anger and hate. I am not sure if there will be a similar effect if ZYZ roasts Li Lun the same way ZYC does; or if ZYZ will ever do that, because he is quite tender hearted towards people he knows (as we know), but I probably would have also appreciated if he tried to have an extended conversation with Li Lun beyond him telling Li Lun that he is wrong and he can make amends without talking about the road to that conclusion. I mean also, come on, Li Lun was also locked up for 8 years with no one but a vengeful puppet master and devious human to talk to. Was anyone expecting him to change his views? It is a tad bit unfair to Li Lun in terms of their relationship closure.

Anyway, for shits and giggles, I find it funny that Yan An also says that Zhu Yan can be “flirtatious” towards Li Lun, and HMH’s reaction is “Really??” Do what you will with that information.

Li Lun, a villain I feel for (Pt. 1/3)

Li Lun was the only character of FoF who stole my heart. From the very beginning it was obvious that Li Lun supposed to be a scapegoat of the narrative. The final plot twist was supposed to be a cherry on the top of the final battle, so GJM needed to bring LL there no matter what. LL's fate is in his very name: 离仑 (lí lún). The character 离 means “to be separated”, “to stay apart”; “to keep distance”; “to be alone”, “to break up”, “to become in opposition”; “to turn away” and also “to break into pairs”.  The character 仑 is used only in the name of the mountain Kunlun (昆仑), which is, as we know, a cradle of demons and a gate to the Great Wilderness. All of these meanings match Li Lun perfectly: he is deeply tied to his demonic homeland, yet is separated from the man who used to be his soulmate and opposites him now in loneliness.

Li Lun also was the only character whose story was shown to us not  as a strange flashback after the main events happened (as it was with any other story-within-a-story in this drama) but was fed to us with small portions (as it should actually have been worked out for each of side stories). It was, firstly, the main reason I was emotionally involved in Li Lun’s story – I genuinely tried to guess what happened between LL and the main hero in the past, it caught my attention. And secondly – reshuffling the pieces of LL’s backstory and spreading them across the narrative were the only ways to conjure the illusion that LL’s part of the plot works at all.

"Zhao Yuanzhou, do you still remember your old friend? Whom of your new friends should I kill first?"

When we see Li Lun for the first time in ep 3, he seems like a real villain of the story: he is in chains, looks insanely hot and hotly insane. We find out very quickly that he is absolutely obsessed with his former friend, the main hero, and wants to take revenge on him so badly as if the main hero killed the whole LL’s family and ate LL’s cutie puppy for breakfast. In the first part of the story he looks really intimidating: it is scary when your enemy could literary be anyone around you because Li Lun can possess any body. (And later we find out that there is absolutely no villain in this story, because LL is a Byronic hero and Big Bad in Mask is just a piece of furniture, because no one of the mains remembers of him and gives a single flying heck about him for the most of the story.)

But to look through their story soberly, let me recap it for you in the chronological order.

Once upon a time, something like 30 000+ years ago, two demons were born in Great Wilderness, a sophora tree spirit and a white ape spirit. They were equals in their powers, were friends for many millennias and finally became Great Demons. Hundreds of years ago they anonymously saved the Great Wilderness from destruction and swore to protect their homeland at any cost.

You all know what a hairpin means in Chinese dramas , don't you? 🌚

LL works his magic to make ZYZ happy. Although they had different mindsets, they genuinely care for each other: the main hero (ZYZ) tried to show his rigid wooden friend things he never even thought about, and LL, in return, tried to learn from ZYZ and to make him happy, too.

LL wanted to silent a kid with magic, but ZYZ taught him that no magic needed to chase someone's megrim away. The kid's as well as LL's. ZYZ loved humans and their world and LL was irritated by them and cautious about them, so ZYZ was teaching him how to treat humans right.

They exchanged gifts, a rattle drum and an umbrella. And it was so important for both LL and ZYZ that each turned mate’s gift into a spiritual weapon.

But they exchanged even more valuable gifts, too: ZYZ gifted LL his unique magic ability – Truth Eye, the ability to see the true essence of everything. Not having it anymore, he could rely now only on his heart to see LL’s heart, so giving it away was the brightest expression of his trust and love for LL. And LL gifted him a root of sophora  – a part of his true body, which was… pretty much the same expression of love and trust.

ZYZ gifts LL his Truth Eye. But one day, 8 years ago, when they both were on a date in the mortal world, they accidently found a dungeon where their fellow demons were kept captive and tortured by humans. Li Lun, who swore to protect his homeland and its habitants and was prejudiced against humans, went to berserk rage and killed not only those who tortured demons, but also everyone in a building where this dungeon was located.

He also set free all the demons in the dungeon, included Ao Ying, the demoness who can change her appearance and will serve him later.

Trying to stop LL from killing even more people, ZYZ accidently mortally wounded LL with the power of Everburning Wood he just got. It was unintentional but fatal anyway.

For his crimes LL was immediately caught and sealed in the place of his birth (a dark and lifeless cave). Although the seal could stop him from dying, it took his freedom away for eternity, which was very painful for a creature who cultivated really hard to get ability to move (he is a tree, after all). ZYZ was somewhat upset with it. OK, being upset because of your former friend’s loss of freedom is a good thing, but what happened between the sealing of LL and the current events of the drama?

So, you were friends for literally millenias, you were very close, maybe in BL way, so close, that each of you literally gave a part of his body to other. One of you flew into a rage (fairly speaking, he had a reason to be enraged) and killed people in the heat of passion. And you accidently killed him trying to stop him. Is he a criminal? Yes, obviously. Should you be surprised by your mate’s behavior and not think of it as of something typical for him? Yes, otherwise why were you still friends for so many thousands of years? Would you try to persuade him or to bring him back into his sanity? Yeah, I think. Would you feel guilt because of unintentional killing him off? Yes, of course. But ZYZ didn’t do and feel any of that.

OK, maybe he is too righteous and any unjustified deed put his relationship with a sinner to its and. Oh, no? He eagerly forgives a spy who works for Big Bad in Mask, he forgives a man who hurt him badly and intentionally sent him into diabolic rage which could lead to numerous victims. He even understands and is nice to other demons who kill people. (And, as I remember, in ep 1 ZYZ killed by himself one of demon hunter’s bureau warriors in order to intimidate ZYC. I watched it only once, so I’m not sure if I didn’t notice some trick there, but still). He only despises LL. Also, he didn’t give a flying heck about who tortured all these demons and why (spoiler: it was Big Bad in Mask, and everything would be much easier, if ZYZ cared about it). And later, he regrets that he unintentionally killed his friend and a family of his current boyfriend, but he never regretted he killed Li Lun.

In the beginning of the drama ZYZ obviously despises him and calls him "a scumbag who has to stay in shadows", although LL has to stay in shadows partly because of a mortal wound caused by ZYZ, and can't be counted as scumbag because all the wrongs he did were caused by desire to protect people of his own kind and not because he liked human sufferings or such evil stuff. LL obviously tries to speak to ZYZ and to find out what happened between them (and honestly, I still want to get this answer, too), and ZYZ, for reason unknown, has absolutely no desire to talk about their problems with LL.

It all feels strange. And not fair to LL.

[heavenbarnes]

the obedience that came with your older bf!simon hadn’t started out as inherently kinky. it actually stemmed from a rather vulnerable admission, one that happened to come about as you were riding him.

“i need to follow orders”

it’d caught you off guard, but you’d been quick and accepting with it as your pressed your palms against his broad chest. you’d nodded, panting slightly as you tried your best.

“i want you to hold me down and really fuck me, si”

and that was it, he was gripping tight on your hips and jackhammering his own up into you until your head was tipping back and a fucking squeal was being torn out of you.

the rest was history.

simon explained it as he’d built a career off of following orders, he’d kept himself alive by doing what he was told- being in the right place at the right time.

if you wanted to see him at his best you had to tell him exactly what you wanted him to do.

after a particularly soft evening on the couch, one that would never leave the four walls of your home, where simon was cuddled into your front with your arms wrapped around him- he told you he felt safest when he had explicit instructions.

part of it was just easier that way, like when he didn’t really get the hype about sexting but you told him what you wanted and then you’d both be happy.

the other part of it was that security, he had someone who loved him enough to put him in the right place at the right time and eliminate as many variables as possible.

that didn’t mean spontaneity was out of the question, he could surprise you and you could do the same to him- but once you really got into things, he wanted you to tell him in graphic detail what you wanted him to do.

“just like that, don’t move your hand at all”

“cum inside me, please”

“bend me over, want you to use me”

“look me in the eyes, want to see you when you cum for me”

“lick my cunt, simon”

there was also something in there for him about you, sweet little you, looking this big man right in the eye and ordering him around.

made him weak in the fucking knees.

[agoddamnrayofsunshine]

I’m sure someone has talked about this before but one thing I absolutely love about tbosas is how Snow’s descent into villainy is never once presented as something that was inevitable

So many villain origin stories portray this idea of a person who tries incredibly hard to be a good person, who takes every opportunity to be kind and to better themselves, but are ultimately doomed to fail by the narrative. Their environment and their circumstances make it impossible for them to be a good person, and while this is effective from a storytelling point of view it’s not exactly accurate to real life

In real life there is always a point where a bad person makes the decision to do something bad, they make the decision to prioritise themselves, their own power, money or desires over someone else. That’s how real life dictators are made, they are presented with every opportunity to be good, and they purposefully choose to not take it

This makes Snow’s storyline so effective because he is given so many opportunities to do the right thing and yet, at every single turn, he chooses to serve himself instead, exactly like how real dictators are made

Snow, unlike most people we see in the capitol, is in a unique position where he could genuinely have the chance to understand and relate to the people from the districts. He, unlike his classmates, is poor and spends most nights going hungry, he witnessed firsthand the cruelty of the capitol when Clemensia was bitten by the snakes for nothing more than lying about doing her homework, when his sister was forced to sell herself on the streets in order to feed the both of them

Throughout his book, the three people he is closest to are Tigris (who dislikes the hunger games, is a rebel, and a victim of the capitol forced to turn to prostitution), Sejanus (who is originally from district 2, dislikes the capitol and knows he will never be accepted there, and also a rebel) and Lucy Gray (who is a victim of the hunger games, from district 12, and is also treated horribly by the capitol). These are all people who gave him an opportunity to realise the cruelty of the system he was in, a chance to directly confront his prejudices and see that people from the districts are just the same as him, and yet he still refuses to take the chance to change

He is given every opportunity, he’s sent away from the capitol to be a peacekeeper in the districts, he forms personal connections with people from the districts, he helps Sejanus perform funeral rites, and yet at every moral crossroads he comes to he makes the wrong decision. He didn’t have to become a villain, and yet he made the choice to do so anyway, despite every chance he was given

I think it’s a really effective portrayal of Snow as a character, and it’s a very effective villain origin story for the type of villain that Snow is. It never once excuses him from his actions because it highlights just how accountable he was for his actions

[iceunhie]

— PUSH AND PULL : honkai star rail.

premise. as someone who's always believed in the term “try and try again,” (peak delusion, you know) rooting yourself in their heart has always been your goal, no matter the cold rejections and curt declines you receive. however, even you have your limits; perhaps this little push and pull you two have going isn't worth your time after all... but what happens then, if the chaser becomes the chased? (oh, how the turns have tabled.)

...or, when you play hard to get with them.

— ft. sunday, aventurine, jing yuan.

warnings: angst n fluff, messy messy, these boys are in love but are wayyy too chicken to admit they actually adore you, genderless reader.

a/n. inspired by @/xiaowhore's playing hard to get headcanons! my holy trinity 😇 n MY FAVES RAHHH

NEXT : BACK TO MASTERLIST || ASKBOX

SUNDAY is perplexed. very much aware of his qualities which enlists him as one of the finer (finest) bachelors of Penacony (he was the Robin's one and only blood, and was also the head of one of the main guiding forces of the Family, after all), sunday isn't sure he's ever come across someone as.... tenacious as you.

foolish, to be more precise, for he cannot for the life of him comprehend exactly why you are the way you are with... him.

no matter his respectful declines of your invitations to promenade around Penacony (re: going on dates), you really didn't know how to leave him be. though he hasn't exactly said he hated it, sunday was, admittedly, rather... affronted. your gifts, in particular, were your loud declarations of your affection (that make his wings flutter more rapidly than he'd like); but sunday was rather inconvenienced at the whole thing.

nonetheless, he does still accept them. reluctantly, mind you. not because he was fond of your constant shower of affections, which seemed so permanent that he began to look forward to them got used to it. to your credit, your gifts were very much to his tastes. (Robin once gave him a rather soul-searching look when he found himself wearing the gloves you gifted, light blue and white in color. he still uses it, just not when his sister is in the vicinity.)

in fact, perhaps he may have gotten too comfortable. little by little, your constant intrusions on his time have thawed a way to his heart; making sunday look forward to your jovial greetings and grandeur elaborations on your day, and such a thing makes him feel scared sunday needed to nip this in the bud, and fast.

so he confronts you, abruptly one day as you give him his newest gift—a jewelry box for his earrings. (surely, the rapid thumping of his heart was due to his irritation at your constant persistence, right?) “i'm afraid this can no longer continue. i am flattered by your... fancy for me, but i do not wish to enter a relationship in the near future.”

the utter silence that follows is torture to him—but he endures. he tries not to look at the momentary flash of hurt on your face. you seemed to quickly recover, though. giving him a simple smile (it didn't reach your eyes. it shocks him how his chest ached at the realization) and shaking your head when he returns the gift to you.

“i understand, mr. sunday.” the formal usage of his name instead of your chipper ‘sunday!’ makes his face twitch. “but please, keep the gift. think of this as my last declaration. it... would do me a great comfort, just this last time, if you accepted it instead.”

(if he had grabbed your hand at that moment as you left for the door, would he regret it?)

when you leave, sunday thought it would put the conflicting feelings in his mind at ease—but it doesn't. a week and two days counting, true to your word, sunday receives no flagrant gifts, nor little messages on his phone that tell him to take care of himself, to eat, and to make sure to remember to check up on Robin.

instead, contrary to the feeling of ease, regret follows him instead.

it's at two weeks and five days counting when sunday could no longer stand the sight of papers that stacked atop his desk and the image of you leaving for the door replaying in his head far too many times for him to count, that he contacts Robin.

and she, once hearing about the situation, gives him a very, very enlightening talk. (of course, not without giving her brother a lecture of the lifetime. part of him felt shame to know that his sister knew of his... turbulent love life, but she was the only one who he could trust, anyway).

“absence makes the heart grow fonder,” she says. “but in your case, brother, your heart has already decided it's course, right?”

sunday eyes the smooth velvet of the jewelry box you gifted, ruminating. his earrings lie there, carefully pristine and beautiful, gold and silver intertwined. he has worn them without fail, clean and spotless. (of course it was. such a design so intricate was only chosen by you. the thought makes his ears warm).

the next days are agonizing. vigor renewed and epiphanies well-spent, sunday spends the rest of his time after finishing his duties researching and painstakingly finding the best jeweller he can find (even employing the suggestions of a certain gambler, much to his dislike), and spending a god awful amount of time revisiting and rechecking which spots you like, which places you enjoy, to the point it comes up in Penacony's headlines that sunday is interested in someone.

surely, it should've reached your ears by now, yes? sunday panics. your preferences are well-accounted for, and he's sure the Bloodhound family members that report to him have to tell you that the person he had in mind was you. even Robin, who was your closest friend, has probably told you already.

it's embarrassing to admit, but; to hell with it, the day he meets you after three weeks and sees you having a pleasant chat with aventurine, of all people, sunday thinks his heart had shattered into little pieces and stabbed themselves into his body. not so much as sparing him a glance, moreso.

so when, finally at his wits end, sunday chooses to corner you at the dewlight pavilion and spills out how he has royally screwed up in the worst way possible, no one is surprised. at this rate, you would be swept up in the charms of that wretched gambler, and what sunday lacked in, aventurine more than made up for.

“wait, don't go to that gambler just yet.” he's breathless, he's chaotic—and something in his heart squeezes when you finally look at him. “i... i wish to take up your time now, if that's possible.” (he wishes he would take up your time forever, really, but that was still too early).

you eye his getup. all of your gifts, lined on the man you spent so long chasing after—you see the gloves you gifted, the tie with not so much as a single crease, and the earrings that shine more brightly in the light of the pavilion. (it suits him. like you) it was as if sunday had completely surrendered himself to you, had all but decided to proclaim that he was yours, and this was nothing short of a plea for you to hear him.

“please.” he says. almost begs. “i can't bear not seeing you anymore. allow me to correct such a damning mistake.”

and if you were skeptical, the way sunday looks at you would dispel any doubt you could ever have. (his wings, they were fluttering.)

(months later, after a nerve-ending confession, many days of dinners, shared gifts involving matching jewelry and promenading to your wishes, it dawns on sunday he was absolutely dancing to your tune. did he regret it, though?

....no, most certainly not.)

if AVENTURINE were to be honest with himself, he saw you as a useful “friend” rather than a romantic interest. was it bad of him? of a sort. but risk cutting himself open and letting someone he might grow to care for know about all the ugliness that follows his life? no, he's fine as it is, thanks.

the first thing he notices is that you're kind—though he distrusted most of his colleagues and preferred none to get close to him, aventurine, in some morbid moment of curiosity, instead allowed himself to bask in your attention. instead of curtly disparaging you, he flirts back at your compliments (the way your face heated up in return was far too endearing that he can't help but want to kiss you he finds it amusing) and consistently texts you a “did you get home safe” or a “i bought you this because it reminded me of you”; at this point, it was like you two were dating.

was it leading you on? yes, but he supposes it was a win-win; he could send you those tiny bits of validation that was enough for you to stay respectfully at a distance while he probed at your intentions. unlike others who attempt to garner his favor, you're genuine, and you seriously take the time to know him. because you always text back with hearts, always reassure him, tell him to stay safe and wish him luck at every gamble, every high stakes bet he finds himself in. you even complimented his perfume once (and, if he had to be honest, he could not stop thinking about it all day—because that perfume he commissioned exclusively was based off of your own favorite scents and it was extremely embarrassing that he loved hugging you knowing that you loved the way he smelled and that it felt extremely domestic).

(sometimes, he doesn't reply. for months on end. suddenly the golden-haired man you love goes cold and you know then that aventurine ghosts you and then returns when he's in need of a friend—never a lover. it hurts you, but at the very least, you know he cares in his own way.)

and, if aventurine had to be honest, it was killing him from the inside bit by bit. as if to drive the knife deeper, you never danced around what exactly was going on with you two. you never ask why he ghosts you, then sends you a bundle of gifts all of a sudden and then rapidly spends time with you and repeating the cycle. no, you were consistently by his side, so warm and so caring—so unlike him—that aventurine wonders if it's really all right to open his heart to you.

if, by some chance, he actually wanted to be with you, would you treat him even more sweetly than before? aventurine thinks you would—you were beautiful in your entirety, and he was practically undeserving of you. he imagines himself kissing your hand and having you in his arms—and that feels like ice cold water being dumped onto his head, because you could do so much better and yet, why him?

so when aventurine hears about how a certain doctor was visiting you for some unknown reason, his already fragile sense of security in this little will-they, won't they crumbles.

and when he finds out that you were staying over with ratio? something twisted lodges itself in the little brushes of his heart, coiling and coiling—making him feel green. aventurine is aware you and the doctor are good friends, and ratio was the one who even told you to make a move on him! how could he just—suddenly interrupt?!

(was it dramatic? extremely. but knowing his friend and the person he secretly adores might end up together? you can't really blame him.)

he supposes this can be attributed to him. it was an egregious mistake, a blunder aventurine made—he never gave you a clear sight of whether he truly loved you or not and now you're slipping away from him.

so, he does something very unexpected.

at 3:00 AM in the wee early morning hours, aventurine practically barges into one Dr. veritas ratio's home, demanding what the hell was going on between you. and as if he had expected it, his doctor friend merely gives him a shrug in return.

“perhaps they were simply getting fed up by a certain IPC member—who is clearly head over heels in love with them—giving them mixed signals.” ratio's tone is stern, and aventurine definitely knows that the look he gives him is the one he gives only to fools.

you idiot, the doctor seems to say. yeah, yeah, he is; aventurine ignores the clear pinprick at his dignity.

yes, he supposes he is the fool here. “ah.”

“yes, ‘ah,’ indeed. now, let me propose a question.” the purple-haired man says. “will you react in such a way when i tell you that in order for my friend to stop their anguish, i managed to get them to fraternize with one of my colleagues?”

“...what?”

“they will be having a meet-up seven system hours from now.” ratio shrugs. eyes aventurine, who's looking at him like a gaping, stupid fish. “i can only hope that no one would dare to disrupt.”

...it doesn't take him long to be rid of the gambler by then.

(a few hours later, you stop by the Intelligentsia Guild to see one veritas ratio with a smug smile, eyeing the fur coat draped around your shoulders, and the flushed and happy expression written on your face.

“did it work?” he asks.

you laugh, “splendidly.”

indeed, that gambler was a fool, and there's nothing more than dr. ratio loved than to educate such fools to shape.

“that will teach him.”)

as a quote unquote ‘old man’ who knows that he's well up in his years for a relationship, JING YUAN finds you to be quite amusing.

it doesn't take a detailed analysis to know that you were smitten with him, really. you're a complete open book by his standards—if your heated face and slightly airy voice whenever you were even placed in the same vicinity with the Dozing General was anything to come by. while flattering, he also shares the similar mindset of being too old for any love his way—and he could be mara-struck at any given time, and jing yuan does not wish such a life filled with anguish and pain for the one who may steal his heart. but, worry not, brave suitor of the Arbiter General! unlike the other two above, this man has the experience of millenia, and is open-minded and aware that you truly wish to be perceived as a potential lover.

in fact, jing yuan's recent favorite habit is sneaking off the Seat of Divine Foresight purely to freak you out, watching you scramble up your words, seeing the heat crawl up your nape and bloom all across your face. adorable. you certainly knew how to appeal, that's for sure.

(“heh, it seems i've found a new place to stay in so that the Diviner Fu won't grill me alive when she sees me.”

and when he's rewarded with a bashful and speechless look in return, a smile and your, “i'm glad, general.” it surprisingly lightens up his mood by more than he expected.

that, in turn, gives him a frightening 30% energy boost; fu xuan was utterly shocked to see the languid man actually working and looking like he enjoyed it, for once.

“did something good happen today, jing yuan? why so enthusiastic?”

“i just felt like working more than usual, diviner Fu. i seem to have my energy levels at a high.”)

now, jing yuan is considerate and perceptive first and foremost, so there's a high chance that out of all the men here, he is the most open to giving you the chance to pursue him. he does inform you beforehand that he has no plans of accepting your confessions in the future, and that is where the ‘hard to get’ part comes in.

it's like playing a confusing romance visual novel with a fickle love interest—you never really know what you're doing, whether it's something jing yuan would like or not, and you don't know if he even thinks your attempts are moving his heart. (tldr: he friend zones you).

he maintains the same distance no matter his banters with you, no matter how many times you tell him that you'd help yanqing out with sword lessons. it's like he was just... treating you as he would a friend, and that you were basically stuck in the friend-zone forever.

(he keeps it to himself, but something warm stirs in his chest when he sees yanqing sleeping on your shoulder after training practice, with your arm protectively around the boy's side.

your sleeping face didn't make it easy to look away either; it's one of the few moments in which jing yuan shows just the slightest bit of reciprocating your pursuits; he brushes back the stray hairs covering your face, and drapes a blanket over the two of you.

of course, perhaps to tease yanqing, he also takes the calligraphy brush and makes a work out of his face, doodling all over it.

when you wake up, there's a lingering scent of ink and yellowed paper that fills your senses. when you turn to the boy beside you, you almost giggle out loud.)

it's a little disheartening—and while jing yuan did acknowledge that you were slowly, slowly burrowing yourself in his heart, he doesn't act on it fast enough, and instead lets the realization sit in his mind for a while.

it gets to the point where it feels as though he were preparing to distance himself, and even yanqing had asked if he was well. your visits with the Arbiter General also decrease, as he suddenly buried himself in his work even more than before.

he doesn't get to see you all that much afterwards, despite the lingering feeling of missing you filling his heart.

....that's until jing yuan hears word of a recent mara-struck incident involving the Sky-faring Commission; with your name listed among those heavily injured.

when he visits Bailu's clinic after yanqing urges him, jing yuan takes in the sight of you, littered in injuries from head to toe. your life, about to snap. he never even told you that you won; you did manage to steal his heart and for the first time in a long time, jing yuan allows himself to love.

so if, after three weeks later when you're finally healed up and ready to go, jing yuan brings you into his arms and drags you to let him sleep in your lap, you can't really blame him now, can you?

a/n: i love yearner hsr men,,, might do a pt 2 though. thinking of mayb ratio, jiaoqiu and f/heng next time...... sighs dreamily

@ ICEUNHIE: do not repost translate or plagiarize my works.

[a-b-riddle]

Part 7

Can't stop thinking about how the 141 met reader

(she's a long one. not entirely happy with it either so may edit later)

No harm done yet.

You never saw Simon actually hurt anyone. Johnny and Kyle would share stories about poor recruits who fucked around and eventually found out that Simon had no issue beating them within an inch of their life.

You knew he had a reputation and, like the rest of them, had blood on his hands. But it never bothered you. Didn't make you think twice about loving him or seeing him as the protector he had always been to you. To be frank, you could never actually picture any of them being violent.

But his voice... Fuck. His voice. It fucking rattled you. You actually feared for those fucking idiots now. Sure, they deserved to have their asses kicked, but an ass-kicking was probably going to be a welcomed after thought to whatever Simon would do.

You rinsed off, not bothering to wash your hair, but needing to wash up before getting in the bed. Hoping the scalding hot water washed away the uneasiness on your skin that had began to settle into your bones.

Even feeling fresh and laying in clean sheets, you still found yourself tossing and turning wondering exactly what did Simon do?

Did he walk away? Realizing you weren't worth the trouble, did he just tell them to knock it off?

You had stupidly expected Simon to check in. To check if you made it home alright or at least to let you know he was okay. So you waited... And you waited. You had half a mind to call him yourself before remembering it wasn't your place anymore to care. You had cared enough for the five of you.

It was well past two in the morning before you finally called it a night.

The next morning, still nothing from Mr. Riley. Not a 'did you home alright?' or 'are you okay?' text. Nada. Zilch.

Whatever.

Fuck him.

You had to open up shop, but luckily your Saturday mornings were much more relaxed. The shop wouldn't be open until 10, so you had the time to sleep in and enjoy the morning.

By noon, Mere had sent you several texts reminding you that you had promised to go out. You had tried to dissuade her. The encounter with those men last night had brought back sour memories. One involving handsome men coming to your rescue when it was most certainly needed.

You had tried to bail. Giving her any excuse you could: Last night put you on edge. You no longer wanted to go out. After last weekend, you just needed some down time.

Eventually you had realized she was not taking no for an answer after she had shown up to your apartment, already ready for a night out.

"You're not wearing that, are you?" Mere asked. Mere was in her usual Saturday femme-fatal attire. The black leather pants that accentuated her curves and red corset paired well with her freshly box dyed color black hair.

She looked more like a dominatrix than someone who worked at an attorney's office. Even if both professions included bending someone over and fucking them for all their worth. You wondered who would charge more by the hour....

You had pulled out a off white lace square neck top and a pair of high waisted medium washed baggy jeans. A perfectly cute outfit for a night out. Which was your defense when she had suggested you needed to change.

Tab had arrived later than expected (something about a system being down at work), but made up for it by bringing a pre-game snack. Yes, you had officially reached the age where you no longer starved yourself hours before going out to get more drunk quicker and cheaper. No you had to eat carbs or else you wouldn't be able to leave your room the next day as you pathetically nurse a hangover.

Tab wore a denim skirt. If you could even call it that. It paired well with the white tank top that you could make out the shape of her nipple piercing.

But they looked hot. Really hot.

"This is a perfectly acceptable outfit."

"For a day at market, not for trying to get laid."

"I don't want to get laid." You said, rummaging through your closet, yet again. "Getting laid is what got me in this mess in the first place."

A little over two years ago

"Fuck him." Tabitha wrapped her arms around your shaking body as you continued to sob. "He was a prick who didn't fucking deserve you."

"He couldn't even get you to cum." Mere felt the need to remind you as if that would somehow lessen the blow of your heartbreaking into a million shards. The shrapnel feeling like it would kill you.

"I loved him," your voice is small. "I fucking loved him." You had been dating for almost three years. You had his grandmother's ring on your fucking hand for God's sake. "I'm so stupid."

"You are not stupid." Tabitha gave you a squeeze. "He was a liar and a fucking coward." Meredith rubbed her thumb on you bare leg, offering physical reassure. Letting you know even if she wasn't the hugger Tabs was, she was still here.

"You can't keep locked up in this apartment." She was unfortunately right. You had not only barricaded yourself in your apartment for two weeks, but you hadn't returned to your bedroom. The scene of the crime. "You need to get out."

"Yeah," Tabitha rubbed your arm as if trying to coax you out your metaphorical shell. "Get some fresh air. We can go grab a treat. Maybe go out for some coffee." It didn't surprise you that Tabitha was offering a treat to entice you to leaving your sanctuary.

"I was thinking going to a bar." It also didn't surprise you that Mere offered her way of coping. Getting so drunk that you forgot what you even sad about. Or going out and finding someone to fuck the sadness out of her.

"Because getting alcohol in her system in this state is just what she needs." Tabitha was the mom of the group whereas Mere was the fun drunk aunt. They balanced one another out.

"Actually," you said, giving a pathetic sniffle. "Going out would be nice." Getting away from the apartment is what you need. And going out would be the excuse you would need to get yourself all dolled up.

What you hadn't planned for was getting so pissed that you had manage to breakaway from your friends. Searching for them in teh crowd of people. Failing and when you pulled out your phone were met with a completely black screen.

Dead. Perfect.

The same moment you swore the night couldn't get any worse, it did.

He looked the same. Same as he been four months ago when he asked you to become his wife. Same as he had been two weeks ago when you had caught him fucking another girl. The girl he told you not to worry about. The girl he insisted was just one of the guys. A girl you had told him time and time again would fuck him the moment she had the chance.

It wasn't always great to be right.

When your eyes connected, your body had went into immediate flight mode. Every neuron in your body was shooting out signals of RUN RUN RUN RUN RUN. So that's exactly what you did.

You fucking bolted.

Or felt like you bolted. But you could only scurry so fast in chunky heels while simultaneously pulling down your skirt that had decided to ride up. Aching to show your ass for all of London to see.

You had made it a quarter of the way back to your apartment. Your feet aching. Toes pinched together from the strap digging into them.

"Baby, please!" You heard him before you felt his arm clamp down on your shoulder. Hard. When did his touch become something heavy? Something that practically burned you.

You turned. Eyes brimming with unshed tears as you hissed at him to leave you the fuck alone. The begging came, but you turned around. Determined to go home. He didn't deserve the chance to explain himself and he could most certainly shove his apology up his ass.

He wouldn't shut up. Insisting it was a mistake. A one time thing her fault. How she seduced him. As if he were the victim in all of this. You weren't buying it. Not for one moment. One doesn't accidentally invite some slut over and fall balls deep into her while they are in the same bed he shares with his fiancée.

It wasn't until you were in a more dimly lit area that he had gotten the nerve to grab you. His grip was firm on your arms as he held you in place. "Listen to me!" His voice was panicked.

The feeling of anger slowly began to dim as something else began to rise.

Fear.

You were afraid.

You were in a part of town not many people were out and about in at this time of night. No bystanders to really take note of the scene, or at least not any caring enough to stand by and watch; even for entertainment.

Your friends didn't know where you were at and you were tipsy. And alone.

"Cardan," you swallowed, trying to steady your voice. "Please let me go."

"Not until you talk to me," his fingers dug into you. "We can work this out, okay? It was one mistake." He tried to argue, his voice rising, soaked in desperation. "What's one mistake compared to three years?"

"Cardan," you tried to pull away, his grip only tightening. "You're hurting me." It came out as a pathetic whimper. You were so close to crying, too afraid to scream.

"Hey!" A voice barked from behind you. It caused your whole body to stiffen."Get your fucking hands off her. Someone noticed. Someone was here. Someone was here. Someone was here.

"We are having a conversation." Cardan's eyes left you, looking at whoever stood behind you.

"The lass said to leave her be." Another voice. Someone else. Two (three if you counted yourself, but in that moment you couldn't) people against one. There was no a possibility of you getting the fuck out of this situation.

Cardan stood firm. His eyes looking past you. A silent refusal to back down.

"Either you let her go," another voice. Another accent different that the first two. "Or we fucking make you."

"One against four. Odds aren't in your favor, mate." Four. Four men stood behind you. Faceless strangers there to help you.

"This doesn't concern you." Cardan bit out.

"Aye," Scottish. The second guy was definitely Scottish. "I think it does if she's tellin' ye' to piss off and yer bein' a bawbag about it."

"So what'll it be?" The third voice, deep and threatening, yet still so... calming. As if the vibrations from his deep, rich pitch washed over you.

Cardan looked back at you, his eyes not as manic. He realized he didn't have a chance. This was a fight he had to walk away from or else he wouldn't be walking away from it at all. "I'll swing by tomorrow, okay?" He asked.

You couldn't do anything, but nod. Agree that you could talk tomorrow in the safety of the sunlight. Eventually he walked across the street before fading out into the night. Blending in with the shadows.

You turned around to meet your would-be saviors.

Four men. All slightly older than you and so handsome you felt foolish for gawking at them as if this were your first time seeing a man. Hell, maybe it was. At least specimens like this. All of them tall and broad. Towering over you.

No wonder Cardan got the fuck out of there. Tabs was right. He was a coward.

"You alright?" The one who first spoke up asked. You could place his voice. Now just needed to place the other three. He had a hearty mustache and mutton chops. A look on any one else would make you immediately get the ick. But for a moment you wondered if that mustache would tickle... "Do you need us to call anyone?"

You felt your cheeks flush with heat.

"I just want to go home." You said. "Thank you for stepping in. I don't know what would have-" You stopped. Too afraid to think about the possibilities. There was a time you would never believe that Cardan had the ability to hurt you.

There was also a time you believed he would never cheat. You weren't really sure what to believe anymore. "Anyway," you continued. "Thank you again." You turned on your heel before continuing your stride.

You had only made it several feet before you were stopped again. "Which way? One of us can walk you home." You weren't entirely sure. But with a dead cellphone and a unhinged ex probably lurking in the shadows, there was little time to weigh the pros and cons before giving them a general direction of where you lived.

Which just so happened to be the direction in which two of the four lived. The Scot and one of the two who had yet to speak. The first one, who had still yet to introduce himself instructed the two of them to drop you off and let him know you had made it home alright.

You had hoped that the rest of your night would be met with silence, but the Scot couldn't seem to help himself. "I'm Johnny." He introduced. "And the spooky, silent type is Simon." He gave a playful wink. You gave him your name, not wanting to be rude.

"Not my place to ask," he began. "But what was the deal with that fucker? Ex-boyfriend?"

"Johnny." Simon's tone held warning. You appreciated the defense, but frankly didn't care. These were strangers. Who cared what they thought.

"Ex-fiancée," you clarified. "One who decided to fuck another girl in my bed. Not even our bed. My bed."

"Jesus fucking Christ," the Scot swore. "I was right. He was a fucking bawbag." For whatever reason, that made you laugh. For the first time in two weeks you fucking laughed. And it felt like you were breathing again.

Simon was quiet, not contributing to the conversation and just letting Johnny babble. Talking your ear off in a short trek as if it were an olympic sport.

You were so distracted with his voice you hadn't realized how far you had made it until the sound of your keys clattering onto your kitchen counter brought you back.

Back to a situation you didn't know how the fuck you landed in.

Two men (who you don't know) are in your apartment. Your friends don't know where you are. You are a little bit too inebriated to plan and exit strategy. Doesn't exactly help your confidence in fighting them off since they are built like fucking brick houses.

"He won't come sniffin' around here botherin' ya, will he?" Simon asks, speaking for only the second time since he had threatened Cardan. You shake your head.

"No," you said. "I have him blocked on everything. So I think when he saw me tonight it was just kind of an opportunity, I suppose?" You offer. Cardan had showed up to your place one time with a random assortment of flowers and a useless apology you had to hear through the door as you covered your mouth. Concealing your cries. Too afraid to let him know you were there.

Too afraid that some part of you would be weak enough to take him back.

"We'll leave ye' be." Johnny said, nodding his head toward the door. "But if he comes bein' a shite to ye again, you can give us a call."

"Phones dead." You explain, holding up your phone as if you needed to prove yourself. Johnny offered the brilliant, yet simple solution of giving him your number. He sent off a text, knowing it would be there when you turned back on and promising to check in later.

They both gave subtle nods of goodbye before turning away.

And just like that, they left. The door clicking softly shut behind them. You stood, frozen for several beats before walking over and locking the door.

You plugged your phone into the charging cable, waiting until it lit back to life before shooting off a text in your group chat with Tab and Mere.

Sorry I took off. Ran into Cardan and fucking made a dash for it. Sorry if I worried you. I'm at home. I'm okay. Grab lunch tomorrow and we can talk about it? My treat?

You signed off the text with a heart emoji and turned your phone on do not disturb. Too afraid of your friends going all Mama Bear on you for running away while drunk. Even if your reasons were valid.

You had texted Johnny again. Not because Cardan dared to bother you again, but to thank him. Acknowledging that not many men would have done for you what he and his friend did. Johnny assured you it wasn't anything.

Before you knew it, the two of you were hanging out with Simon always tagging along. It took you a while to realize he did actually like you, but his stoic nature was just who he was. You had met Kyle and John, both as charming and respectful as Johnny and Simon.

John had been the first two mention wanting to take you on a date. It didn't go well with the other three. They all had the same intention and a rock, paper, scissors tournament seemed to juvenile to figure out who got the privilege in courting you. Eventually, they had decided to ask you.

Putting you on the spot to answer the question that had begun to tear them apart: which one of them will it be?

Johnny made you laugh. He was the first person you thought about calling when your day was a bit grey. He saw the positive in everything and was the one who made you feel like even the bad days weren't so terrible.

Then there was Simon. The one who you felt like was your safe place in body and mind. You would babble all day talking to him, thankful when he would let you rant. Your mind was able to go on auto-pilot in terms of safety because you knew Simon would handle it. He also gave the best hugs.

John was the one who instilled the confidence in you that you needed. Your bookstore, your writing, whatever aspirations you had, no matter how wild, John would support it. Nothing was too big. After you all started dating, he was the first person you ever let read your book. He gave you praise as well as critique, pointing out multiple plot holes and helping you craft it better. And never once taking credit for it, even when it was due.

Kyle was the most thoughtful one. He was the one who knew you liked trying knew things so he made an effort to always make date nights interesting. A new restaurant, a new activity or experience. He was the biggest giver of the group.

So when they did ask you, you answered honestly.

"I can't choose." They insisted that you didn't need to spare their feelings, but you stood firm in your decision. "No. I can't choose. I'm interested in all of you." When they pressed on why the fuck you didn't say anything earlier, you told them to avoid this kind of situation. Where you had to choose. You were fine continuing on as just friends if that meant you got to keep all of them.

Mere and Tabs were great friends, but they are the ones who helped pull you out of the slump. The ones who made you feel lovable. The ones who made you feel like a woman again.

"Helloooooo." Mere's hand waved in your face while another held something she had found in your closet. "So are you going to change or not?" Your eyes darted to the skimpy glittery black dress. The same one for your first date with them. Your stomach twisted as you took the sparkly dark fabric in your hand.

You nodded as if trying to shake the memory out of your mind. "I'll change and we can go." Better just to get it over with.

The place that Mere had dragged you to was a club that played music that you would only listen to while encapsulated in the aroma of cheap liquor and sweat. Your outfit form-fitting. The material too stiff to be comfortable, but it was cute. The hem of your dress coming to rest just below your ass cheeks. Hugging your body in a way that made you feel self conscious the moment you stepped out of your building.

Mere had run into some work colleagues. Names you couldn't and wouldn't remember. There had been a high profile divorce going on. Very messy. She had been so encapsulated by the gossip that she hadn't notice you and Tabitha had slipped off toward the bar.

Tabitha insisted on shots and you needed something to get your mind off the less than exciting night. Your expectations weren't high, but fuck. You would have been much more comfortable wearing the jeans. You felt like a piece of fucking meat. It would have been so bad if someone were gonna buy you a dr-

"This seat taken?" It was a cliche introduction attached to a slightly better than average face. Decent enough where it didn't hurt to look at him, but not attractive enough to be a seat.

"By all means," you said turning back to Tabitha who looked at the guy now sitting to your left and raising her eyebrows. Fucking hell. Not her too.

"It's pretty packed tonight." He commented, attempted to make small talk. You hated small talk. At least unless it came to Johnny who would get into discussion on politics, religion and why on the side was the best way to fuck because it gave him 'a perfect view of the front and back of ye.'

"You come here often?" You asked, not wanting to be a total bitch, but having absolutely zero desire to be entertaining him.

"When I can." He said. "I prefer the Artifact a couple of blocks down. Not many people heard of it. A bit of a hole-in-the-wall place." Oh cool. A fucking hipster who liked to act superior at knowing a place that is underground. You could feel any possibility of getting your pussy wet, dry at the thought of this man actually wanting to come onto you.

Jesus, when did you become so harsh.

I blame Simon.

"Oh," you say, no longer interested in entertaining the conversation. "Sounds lovely. My friend and I just came out for a bit of girl-" you turn to look at Tabitha who had somehow miraculously disappeared in the 45 fucking seconds that your back was turned....

Little bitch.

"Bathroom, I suppose." He laughed. It was the sincerity in his voice that irked you. God, why was he pissing you off just trying to start a conversation?

"I suppose." You gave a soft smile back, turning once the bartender had come over to grab your order. Which the stranger next to you had insisted buying. Nothing quite as arousing as obligated conversation.

"There's no need for that-"

"Percival." He introduced. "But my friends call me Percy." Your immediate thought was who the fuck names there kid Percival. The second was to offer him a fake name. Real enough to be believable, but fake enough where if he tried to search you up on any social media, you could just deny having any.

"I hate to be brash," he started. Then don't. "But I can't imagine a girl like you being single."

"Not really looking for anything romantic at the moment." You say, the first time you've been truthful this entire conversation. Percival leaned in closer, before asking in a low voice that he was doubt trying to convey as sexy, "Are you sure?"

And there it was. The final ick that nailed the coffin shut.

You offered in a soft smile before swallowing hard. "Percival,"

"My friends call me-"

"I'm going to be frank." Your voice is soft, as if explaining to a small child why we don't always get the things we want. "I just got of a very long and deep and meaningful relationship and the idea of being near another man in any intimate or emotional capacity wants me to cause very serious bodily harm to said man."

His expression fell.

"I appreciate your confidence in coming over here and making small talk, but if you're wanting to fuck me or even attempt to be friends, I must inform you that is no only not in the cards, but not in your best interest." You turned, downing the rest of your cocktail.

"Time for a trip to the bathroom myself, I suppose." You stood from your seat, having to readjust your dress.. "Have a good night."

You were washing your hands when a red-faced Mere walked into the bathroom. Tabitha on her heels with a concerned expression.

"What did you do?" Mere asked.

"What are you talking about?" You asked. You had half a mind to ask them why the fuck they pulled a disappearing act after insisting you go out.

"You told Percy you would castrate him?" You looked as if you had been slapped. The pieces falling into place to reveal a totally fucked up puzzle.

"You fucking tried to set me up." You seethed, a finger pointing accusingly.

"Well, fuck, what did you expect me to do?" She asked. "You were sulking."

"Listen to me!" You cried. "I want you to listen to me. I was with them for two years. It hasn't even been two weeks and you're going behind my fucking back and trying to set me up with fucking Percival? How the fuck do you even know him? Do you even know him?" She ignored your last question. How convenient.

"I thought it would be good to get it out of your system." She tried to defend, her pissyness now matching yours. "You always do this. I was just trying to help."

"What do you mean 'I always do this'?" Your eyes turned into slits.

"Why don't we just calm down and-" Tabitha tried to stop the escalation. Mere, very obviously, ignored that cue.

"You get so hung up on a guy, or in this case guys, it takes you fucking weeks to recover." You stare at her. Unsure if she was really comprehending the bullshit that had come out of her mouth.

"I'm certain you aren't trying to make me feel bad for grieving a relationship that I was in for over three years to a man I was engaged to. To find him fucking in my apartment, in my bed the same week I was going to get my wedding dress."

"It's not just Cardan," she went on. "Issac in our second year of school?" You gave a humorless chuckle.

"Oh yes," you said condescendingly, "the boy I had dated from 14-years old- until I was 19. The boy I gave my virginity two months before he told me he was not only not interested in me, but women in general." As if that somehow lessened the blow. "Absolutely shouldn't have bothered me a bit."

"You only went out for classes and food for two months!" She said as if you had hit a pedestrian with your car. As if you were a fool for being so distracted by a breakup you couldn't be bothered to carry on with life as normal.

"I'm sorry that I actually take the time to grieve my relationships." You said. "I forgot that it may be hard for either of you to comprehend what a relationship is like considering the only relationship either of you have is with your work or with each of us."

"Hey!" Tabitha said. "I understand your pissed, but there isn't need to attack us like this."

"Attack you?" You asked. "Attack you? This isn't me attacking you. This is me responding to an uncomfortable situation that you put me in. I told you I didn't want to even think about me. I didn't want to fuck someone else and you go and do this?"

"He seems like a decent guy." You roll your eyes.

"Probably why he's not your type, right?" Mere crossed her arms over chest. Eyebrow arched as if she were hoping the words enticed you to realize that you had a history of going after the wrong guys.

Unfortunately, it did not.

You sucked on your teeth, carefully choosing your words before World War III broke out in a nearly vacant bathroom in South London. You took a deep breath. Calming yourself as best as you could.

Before saying fuck it and letting it loose.

"Just because your idea of coping is getting drunk and fucking someone you plan on never speaking to again, quite literally discarding them like trash, doesn't mean the rest of us cope the same way." You hoped it hurt. You hope it stung the same way she had tried to sting you.

You had hoped that your word would be the final blow before both sides called a treaty.

"You mean like they did you?"

And just like that, you heart stuttered. A rapid dum dum dum in your chest as it had been tripped up by her words. The truth in them heavy. The shift in the air was almost immediate;.

"Sweetheart-" Tabitha had tried to reach out before you jerked away.

"Enjoy your night." You said, grabbing your purse where you had left it by the sink. "I'm going to go home and wallow in my self pity." You exited the bathroom, hearing your named called again before shifting it into gear and getting the fuck out of there.

Weaving through the sea of bodies like water flowing around rocks.

Who the fuck cares if you want to cry? To grieve? To be angry? To get closure? To move on? Who cares if you don't want to be the girl who gets her heart shattered and not fuck somone else? Who wants to feel the comfort of a familiar body, a touch that feels safe one last time before you go back into a world where you will only be touched by a stranger?

It didn't matter that you were the one to breakup with them, even if the relationship was broken. It's foundation cracked.

What did matter is that the people who should have supported you and in the way you were dealing with your loss in your own way, didn't. And that's the part that they seem to forget. It is a loss. It's mourning someone who hasn't died. Someone who is still living, yet still no longer there.

"Off already?" Percy cut in the way, blocking your escape. You weren't in the mood.

"Listen-" you started before he cut you off.

"Not anything romantic, I know," he raised his hands as if in defense, "but maybe like another drink or a dance?"

You closed your eyes, wanting to hold off starting a scene and tearing him a new asshole. "Like I said, not. interested." How much clearer could you spell it out?

"Come on." He said, his hand coming to rest on your hip. The grip on it weak. You were by no means the type of woman that could take on a man like the ones you still held in a chamber of your heart. But you could most certainly handle your own against Percival. "I'm asking for a dance. After what Meredith told me, I figured you'd be down for at a little more than that."

"I don't follow." Your blood ran cold. Your heart praying that any assumptions that were running through your mind were wrong, they were wrong.

"She mentioned you having a group of like guys you fucked, but stopped fucking." He shrugged, offering a coy smile that you ached to wipe off with the back of your hand. "I don't judge. It's kind of hot honest. Did they run train or-" You felt it then. His hand had traveled from your hip to the curve of your ass.

And you froze. You froze like a coward. Too afraid to speak or scream. Too ashamed to push him away, cause a scene.

But you didn't need to do any of that.

In an instant, Percy's hand was off of you. It took you a moment to realize that a figure dressed in black stood beside you. Your own personal grim reaper.

"Put him go!" You pleaded, breaking out of your trance. You took hold of his arm putting all of your body weight on his arm, trying to break his hold. He didn't falter.

You could handle you own against Percy.

But Simon could fucking kill him without breaking a sweat.

You looked at Simon's face. His eyes were darkened. The soft brown you had once loved staring into were now almost black. You could even make out the dark circles, even in the unsettling flickering of strobe lights in the club.

"You touch her again and I'll slit your fucking throat. Understood?" Pure venom fell from Simon's lips, but you knew he wasn't lying. Simon was the type of man who didn't say something he didn't mean.

You knew that all too well.

Percy choked out an ineligible, gurgled response as Simon's hand held firm on his throat. "He understands, goddammit, no let him down!" You ordered hitting at him as if it would stop him. "Simon, please!"

It was only when you said his name, did Simon loosen his grip. Letting Percy drop to a heap on the floor before he started a having a coughing fit, trying to suck in as much air as he could.

Simon looked down at you and the exit before scooping you up and hauling you over his shoulder like a sack of flower.

You wanted to die. You wanted to crawl in a hole and die and never show your face again.

"Get in the car." He at least had the decency to open the door for you. Simon wasn't a flashy man, by any means, but he was still a man. A men did love their cars.

He stood, waiting for you but you didn't move. You glared up at him. He had carried you out of there in the most humiliating way possible. You had to fight against the hemline of your dress or else everyone would have gotten an eyeful.

Hand still on the door, he leaned down, getting closer and closer to your height. "You get your ass in this car right now," his breath warm against your ear. "Or I'll have you over my fuckin' knee." His tone was sharp. It wasn't seduction in form of a threat. It wasn't even a threat.

It was a promise.

"We're over." You reminded.

"Do you think that'll fuckin' stop me from spankin' some sense into your bratty ass?"

"It doesn't give you the right to fucking do that to people, Simon!" You huffed. "You could have killed in."

"Could have," he agreed. "But didn't. You're welcome." he nodded toward the car. "Now, in you go or I'll do it here. You already know I don't mind an audience."

The heated seats were a bit to warm for your liking against your bare ass. The tension in the air was uncomfortable. Your hands ached to touch the radio. Anything to stop the silence between the two of you.

"I got home fine the other night by the way." You said, looking out the window, hoping to make him feel like shit for not checking in like he should have.

"I know you did."

"What do you mean you know I did?" You asked, turning to look at him. He shrugged as if it wasn't anything out of the ordinary, not stopping.

"Just did." Was his only answer.

"Are you fucking stalking me, Riley?" That made him laugh. You would have felt better if there was at least a sense of humor in it, but, instead, only disbelief.

"Oh, Riley now, is it?" He asked.

"You're not my body guard, Simon." You snapped.

"Not trying to be," he said. "I was never trying to be." You caught it. A very small slip, but it was something... something you couldn't place.

"Then why?" You ask, your tone softening. "For someone who makes it very apparent to be done with me, you sure do show up at convenient times. Hard not to think your keeping tabs on me."

He didn't say anything. No explanation or excuse. Not evena smart ass comeback or remark.

His hands reached forward and turned on the radio, turning the volume just loud enough that if you were to try and continue the conversation, your words would be drowned out.

He pulled up in front of your building, yet you made no move to get out. You turned off the radio, soaking in the silence once more. You wanted to know why? Why was he appearing out of nowhere like a fucking ghost? Why was he helping you?

He sighed before putting the car in park and stepping out. Coming around to your side he opened the door. "Get inside. Go to bed." There he was again. Fucking bossing you around as if he still had a say.

You wanted to cuss him out. To spew hateful words just as he did you.

But you didn't.

You were tired.

So fucking tired. And the idea of going to bed did sound pretty good in that moment. You made it to the door of your building before he spoke again. "And if you need to out at this time at night call a goddamn cab."

"Why?" You asked, turning around. "Getting tired of having to follow me around on foot, Si?"

There was a pregnant pause. Neither of you speaking. His body shifted forward, as if contemplating getting closer to you. As if the pull you once had was still there.

With his eyes trained on you, you felt a chill run down your spine. Twice you had seen that look on Simon's face before. The look that he had given the figures concealed in the shadows last night. The same look he had given Percy.

Only this time, it was directed at you.

One that personified the saying, 'if looks could kill.'

"Because," he growled out, "the next time I find someone else touching you that way, I'll fucking kill them."