#i will also tag hand content from now on for easier finding youre welcome

[borathae]

Sibi you're feeding my hand kink and I love you so much for it

[apheliia]

FAMILY, OF SORTS. — in which kafka, blade, and silver wolf are an odd but quite special found family to be a part of.

— trigger & content warnings. mentions of unspecified injury.

— pairings & notes. fluff, found family. kafka & teen!reader, blade & teen!reader, silver wolf & teen!reader. 1.3k words. reader is a stellaron hunter. reader is gender neutral (they/them pronouns used).

— author's notes. the sillies <3 APHE POSTING???? APHELION POSTING REAL AND TRUE????????? i had a request for this on my old blog (from my dear beloved moot @starryshinyskies <3) so i decided to finish it 💪 nd tagging @www-brontide since i know you were excited for this post HEHE anyways how are we feeling about this formatting? if you guys don't like it i'm very open to changing it back. i'm just experimenting with my post format is all 🫶

kafka seems strangely motherly to me. caring and doting in her own unique ways, but also quite strange and odd in those same ways. an enigma of sorts.

she is the kind of person to always send the stellaron hunters' youngest member texts throughout the day; these texts range anywhere from silly and inconsequential to sweet messages letting [name] know that she was thinking about them.

(her doting nature is not dissimilar to how she thinks of and regards the trailblazer... hm.)

KAFKA

My coat got stained again :(

Won't you help me clean it when you get home, little one?

[ 1:22 PM ]

KAFKA

I saw a new movie today.

It made me think of you. It was quite to your tastes.

Perhaps we should go see it together sometime, hm?

Ah, but you're probably asleep by now...

That's fine. You do need it more than the rest of us.

Sleep well, darling.

[ 11:34 PM ]

she thinks of her little one quite frequently and has been known to pick up little trinkets from different planets that reminded her of them. a phone charm, a set of rings, something more practical like a new weapon... she once returned with a nice coat that matches one of hers. her gifts are always unpredictable but nonetheless very thoughtful.

and when or if they get injured, she is the one who treats their wound(s) with a tender hand.

she does chide them, however.

"you are a stellaron hunter, little one," she reminds, pulling the bandages wrapped around their wound a little tighter, making them wince. it is akin to a slap on the wrist—not enough pain to seriously harm them, but enough to force them to take her words to heart. "if it is not a part of the plan, try your best not to get caught or injured, hm? silver wolf doesn't like to see you this way, and it causes a unique stir in bladie. your getting injured causes quite the unrest among us all! do be more careful next time."

if there is ever a night during which they are struggling to sleep, they are more than welcome to seek out kafka's company.

she would be willing to read them to sleep, if that is what they desired.

however... a far easier method that would ensure they would stay asleep? her spirit whisper ability, of course.

they know kafka would not use it to harm them.

kafka finds their earnest trust beyond endearing. the trust of a little one like them is quite an important gift! the least she can do, she thinks, is assist them when her assistance is needed.

and sometimes, that just means lulling them to sleep.

blade is quite a difficult person to read, regardless of whether he intends to be so or not.

some days, he is distant and prefers to keep to himself. others, less so.

this, though, should not be mistaken for a lack of care. in fact, he cares quite deeply. his care is simply very quiet and he desperately, earnestly, truly does not wish to cause [name] harm.

he is also most likely the one who spars with them and trains them in the ways of combat, which... he isn't exactly the gentlest at doing. training sessions can be quite frustrating in that they often emerge sore and with new cuts and bruises (but really, these injuries are small and insignificant; they are confident in saying that blade would never truly hurt them, nobody in their family would). he does mean well in his tough methods, though.

the universe is not kind or gentle. it will never treat them that way. therefore, he does his best to prepare them so that they can effectively handle the universe's cruelty and defend themselves from it.

one of the ways in which his quiet care manifests is through his treatment of the small wounds he gives them during training. kafka has said many times that she can treat them, but blade always insists on doing it himself.

out of all of their coworkers, blade becomes the most restless when they're away. he gets particularly antsy when they've been gone for a long period or when they're out there alone. kafka always giggles and points out to him how utterly restless he becomes when such circumstances occur.

(he should be assured that they can handle themselves, given that he is their mentor—there is surely nobody else who would know their skills as well as he would—but somehow he simply isn't.)

blade is also, generally speaking, the most protective.

should they come back injured... if it is anything other than a shallow scratch on the cheek, a rage hotter than the brightest star burns under his skin. in those moments, he almost does not dare to touch them, for fear that he might harm them unwittingly... but he does. his hands are somewhat rough when he snatches their face and tilts their chin around to get a better look at the blood (is it theirs? he hopes not) and grime dirtying their face. there is a terrifying threat present in his voice when he demands, not asks, "who did this to you?"

(if kafka was not present in these moments, he might worry that his mara would get the best of him. thankfully, kafka is intentional and present in such situations.)

unless the ones responsible for the wound have already been adequately... taken care of, he will do so himself. there is nowhere in the universe that the perpetrators could hide from him.

it's about protecting them, but it is also about sending a message.

something along the lines of "anyone who lays hands on them will suffer a fate worse than death," perhaps.

death is anything but a terrible fate to blade, but he knows that it is the worst imaginable to some. he will be certain to deliver something infinitely worse, something beyond imagination, to those daring to hurt his younger teammate.

silver wolf is perhaps the least enigmatic of their little family. she isn't an open book, per se, but she's easier to read than kafka or blade... at least, for someone like [name], anyway.

she never fails to harrass them to play a few rounds (which tends to spiral into many, many rounds...) of a game or two with her. why them, specifically? she insists that blade isn't good at them and kafka is kafka. really, it may very well just be that she enjoys spending time with them, but she—of course—will not simply say that.

however... she bullies them terribly about how bad they are. it comes from a place of affection!

she is also the type to win them every single prize at carnivals, just because she likes the joy it seems to bring them. when she encounters rigged games, however, she becomes all the more motivated by her unadulterated annoyance to beat them.

what do you mean she of all people can't beat this awful and horrible rigged game? her???? the silver wolf????? seriously????????

unfortunately, it does not always end in her victory, even when she is infinitely motivated by her anger.

...and she really isn't above just taking one of the prizes when the stall's owner isn't looking. she has done so multiple times for [name].

she would definitely try to teach them hacking (keyword: try) if they aren't already familiar with it. since it has come in handy for her, she figures that they might also find use in it. it's her quiet way of looking out for them.

(her more obvious way of looking out for them is often seen when she is on missions with them. most commonly, it manifests as her snatching their arm and pulling them out of the way of an enemy before obliterating said threat.)

silver wolf is totally the sort of person to pinch their cheeks (to different degrees, kafka and blade also do this!). they are very cute to her.

overall they are a weird but very special little family to be a part of <3

please consider supporting your writers by reblogging and leaving a kind tag or comment. it really helps me out!

[vintagebuckybarnes]

S'more Friends, S'more Fun

Pairing: Best Friend! Steve Rogers x Avenger! Best Friend! GN! Reader

Total Wordcount: 0.7K

Summary: Tony has arranged for all the Avengers to go on a trip so everyone can relax for a few days without thinking about saving the world. Once everyone is comfortable around the campfire, he brings out the marshmallows that will be used for roasting, and that’s when you discover your best friend, Steve, has never roasted marshmallows before. You’re happy to help him, as you’re always excited to show him the ropes of things he has never done before.

Tags & Warnings: Canon compliant, Avenger! Reader, genderneutral! Reader, references to a difficult childhood (non-graphic), found/chosen family trope.

Story Rating: Teen

Author's Note: Hi, welcome to my very first story written for Steve Rogers! I was in a very cozy mood when writing this, so I hope you will enjoy this fluffy piece with me. I also cannot stop staring at this GIF, as he looks adorable to the highest degree! 💜

Writing Prompts @fandombingo: Steve Rogers @fandom-free-bingo Bug Edition: Fireplace

Tag List: If you'd like to be tagged in my stories, you can find my tag list here.

My blog is for adults (18+) only, and most of its content is intended for mature audiences. Remember that you are responsible for your media consumption. If my content is not your cup of tea, feel free to navigate to blogs other than mine.

In all honesty, you love saving the world and the people walking around, but a relaxing trip to a cabin in the woods with your closest friends and colleagues has to be a close second. The atmosphere is relaxed as everyone sits around a large, crackling fire as funny stories are exchanged about one another, laughter being the best medicine to the problematic time everyone has battled through the past few months.

You’ve always been looking for the feeling of family, and now that you’ve found it within the Avengers, you’re more than grateful than ever to have gone down this path in life. Though your childhood hasn’t always been easy, with you needing to hide your assassin abilities, you’re making up for it every day by spending as much time as possible with your chosen family.

Tony, who’s taken on the role of the Dad you never had from the day you met, smiles at you as you gaze into the fire, a sense of calm lying over you that makes him feel more proud than ever. Without him, you wouldn’t be where you are today, and when you meet his gaze, you immediately smile back at him, appreciation visible on your features.

“Who wants to roast some marshmallows?” he suddenly asks, and you immediately perk up at Tony, mentioning your favorite treat. You’ve always enjoyed roasted marshmallows, whether by themselves or in the form of s’mores, but you’ve never been able to get enough of them. As everyone enthusiastically agrees, you can’t help but notice that one person is less enthusiastic about the idea than the rest: Steve.

There’s no one sitting beside him on the log he’s occupying, as Bucky has moved to sit next to Natasha to make their conversation easier, so you get up to be able to plop down on the log next to your best friend. From the moment you and Steve met, there’s been an unexplainable connection, and it has only grown over the years, making the two of you nearly inseparable now.

“A penny for your thoughts?” you ask. You look up at Steve, the flames forming a golden-orange hue over his handsome features. A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth as he tries to hide the embarrassment that’s threatening to show all over his face, his mind battling if he should tell you the truth or not. Though it’s relatively insignificant, he doesn’t enjoy admitting that he’s never done something.

“I- uhm… well,” he starts, his hand rubbing his neck as he’s trying to find the words to say he’s never done something as simple as roasting a marshmallow. You show him a kind smile as he looks at you, and that’s when he decides to go for it.

“I’ve never roasted a marshmallow before…” he says shyly, his cheeks turning bright red at the confession. A nervous chuckle is audible as he looks away, a bit anxious about your reaction. You surprise him with your response because you’re giving him one he didn’t dare to expect after everything he’s been through.

“Really? Well, in that case, I think it’s about damn time we change that, don’t you think?” you tell him with a broad smile, your hand lying on his arm in support. The simple touch is precisely what he needed to feel to know you mean it, and now he can’t stop himself from smiling, too. And that’s exactly how you explain to Steve how roasting marshmallows works.

With the first one, he held it too close to the fire, making it catch on fire in the process, which resulted in a burst of good-hearted laughter all around, but the second try is already a lot better. It’s still a bit more burned than he would have liked, but his pride in doing this makes him not mind the burnt taste.

“Thank you for explaining; I deeply appreciate it,” Steve says before eating the third one. A satisfied hum leaves his lips as the gooey marshmallow is now nearing perfection. He has rarely felt safer and more comfortable in his life, and he’s happy to share this moment with you, Bucky, and the other Avengers, as they’re his found family, too.

Navigation ~ Steve Rogers Library

GIF: Source ~ All the other graphics you see on this post are made by @vintagebuckybarnes.

[dollboyism]

College AU | Sukuna x Transmasc!Reader - Part 2

MDNI - underage people dni/dnr with this PLEASE Transferring to a new college in your second year should have been a breath of fresh air - far from your hometown, you considered this change of surroundings to be your anchor, a new start. New experiences, new friends, a new life away from prying eyes. And yet, just when you were sure nothing could go wrong, luck has outplayed you: beer in hand, a misstep. Liquid running down a scowling, pink-haired guys shirt. Little did you know an apology would not cut it. Soon, you would find yourself encountering the same judging eyes, turning your dreams for a fresh start into nothing but a nightmare.

word count: 9k

tags: longfic, alternate universe - college + no curses, slowburn, hurt/comfort, sexual content, transphobia and gender dysphoria, mental health issues, reader has anxiety/is a mad pushover sometimes, eventual soft sukuna, junpei is alive <3, organized crime(eventually...), everyone has their canon scars etc. + Reader either pre-T or in beginning stages of it, up for interpretation.

dividers by saradika-graphics

prev // nav // next

Your eyes flutter open as you hear a faint, repeated buzz echoing through your room. Coupled by the sunlight illuminating your room through the window, the warmth hitting your cheek as you sit up. You glance to the side, fix the curtain lazily and get to searching - you pat the bed, eyes trace the edges and corners of the environment until you find the source of that buzzing - your phone. You rub your eyes, vision getting a bit blurry, and pout. 

You forgot to put it on DND. 

Picking up the device, you put it on silent mode and get off the bed, going to the kitchen area. You feel a slight pinch in your brow - a headache coming, likely a hangover. You’ve had your own share of bad luck following you since yesterday, but, hangover aside, today might make up for it, or so you hope. You grumble as you rub your eyes again - they burn. And your body feels tired.. You stare at the fridge for a bit too long - you were too tired to meal prep yesterday, so now you’re stuck trying to make your brain wake up and think of what to eat. On instinct, you grab some rice while thinking of what to add on top. A grocery trip is also needed, you’re running low on veggies, tofu, soybeans probably… You peek at the fridge again and pick up one last packet of soybeans. You could add them in, some sauce and... Score! An easy five minute breakfast - Cooked rice, natto on top and some sauce. You enjoy your meal slowly while rocking on your chair, leaning over the table to open up your laptop. You check the time - your class won’t start until 12. You decide to check the mail meanwhile.

Welcome email, schedule email, dormitory information email, some newbie information, ah, the usual spam. Something about a lecture… Eh. You decide to check your phone after finding nothing that would need immediate attention, finding two notifications - one, a message from Itadori. Ah, and him. You slide up to read the messages, first from Yuji:

“Hi! I was wondering if you were free to sign up to the comics+movie club today? Junpei might be there today so you could get a tour from him or so?”

You hum to yourself, tap your chin and close your eyes while thinking. Sure, that would be fun, and easier to sign up with a tour on a less busy day of the week. You tap away on the keyboard and hit send.

“Morning. I think that’s a great idea. I’ll get there by 11. Are you going, too? :-)”

“Nah, class (　ＴДＴ). But I’ll see you on break”

“Sure!”

You read the other mans' message second. Wishing you a good day, and such. You pull on a hoodie over your jammies and pick up some toiletries from the counter. You put them into drawstring bag, with some spare clothes at the bottom and stand up, walking out of your dorm to the end of the hall towards the communal shower. As you get into the room - all stalls, you wouldn’t even dare come here if not, - you eye the stalls until you notice a free one and get in. You lock the door behind yourself and relax as you get your bearings on a flat surface, hanging the bag on the door handle. You pat your cheeks, trying to get yourself grounded before stepping in.

You apply shampoo, massage it into your scalp and hair, and rinse off. Water runs down your body- you let out a relaxed sigh but keep it quiet, as other stalls are also occupied. You dislike making noise in public when unnecessary. As you shower, you try not to look down at your body as much - you can feel doubts and insecurity creeping up your consciousness - but once it’s over, it’s, well, over. You dry off, apply some conditioner into the tips of your now dry hair after getting into clean clothes - one of them being a shirt with the official university logo - and walk out of the stall. You get to the sinks and brush your teeth while mulling over your path for the day. Get to the library - the clubs are on the second floor, as you remember, - then to lecture hall 2, main cafeteria, library again to study or so… You feel the need to peek at the map once more once you get back to the dorm. This place is huge. When will I memorize all this stuff? - you pout to yourself as you spit and clean your toothbrush, ready to leave. 

You come out feeling refreshed and ready for the day. You check the map while you walk out, following the path to the library. You pass the sidewalk, peek from side to side each time you cross the street and get to the side gate of the university. You pass the research and engineering labs until you find yourself in front of the tall, brutalist building with glass windows - the library. To the side of it is a smaller entrance, which you take. You look around for pointers, lowering your phone as you walk up the stairs, focusing on the path ahead. On your way to the designated floor , you shoot the mystery man a quick morning message in response to his and shut off the screen as you finally reach the end of the hall, standing in front of a black door titled “Comics and Film club”. You find yourself shifting your weight from one foot to another before knocking. Opening the door with a soft squeak, in front of you stands a tall boy wearing a striped t-shirt with an icon of some sort that you don't recognize, a kind a mascot. His dark, long hair covers the right side of his boyish face. His eyebags give a bit of a tired look to him, the image topped off with a coffee mug in hand. He tilts his head at you, as if he was expecting someone else.

“Ah, I’m–” You reach a hand out for a fist bump, he - for a handshake. You laugh, and introduce yourself properly after the awkward mishap. His eyes widen a bit in recognition as he nods. 

“Right, right. Yuji told me about you. I’m Yoshino Junpei” He introduces himself back, letting a slight smile rest onto his face.

“May I come in for that tour then?” You ask politely. “And to register, of course.”

He nods and invites you in, briefly explaining what is where, which is almost self explanatory at a first glance on its own; You look around the place - it's got comfortable, soft bean bags used as seats circle a desk with a few books on it, in front of them - a large TV. The stand it rests on has two shelves on the sides that host chargers and joysticks. There are big bookshelves to the right side, hosting various comic books and CDs. The place is vast and cozy, especially with some blankets and soft toys tucked onto the windowsill - they look to be a bit like cute-ified monsters, probably from a horror movie or something. You eye the bookshelf, then the rulebook next to it, listing the etiquette of borrowing and donating books or other media to the club. Nice! 

Yoshino hands you a paper to sign and taps the empty space at the end of the list. You fidget with the pen and write down your last name, then the first letter of your deadname. You had the talk, your legal name is promised to not be even uttered on university grounds, but old habits die hard. At least your chosen name’s got the same first letter, too. Then, email address and a checkbox for what sort of activity would interest you in the club. You check almost all and more - you want to contribute, especially with the events! Speaking of them..

“So, what are the events about? Anywhere I could check?”

“Ah, yeah,” Junpei murmurs quietly and sips from the mug he’s been fidgeting with as he sits at what looks to be an office desk, pointing at the calendar behind himself.

"Feel free to look around and ask questions. I just have something to quickly work on.." He murmurs quietly. Noticing his shy behavior, you decide to leave him alone for a bit and study the list instead. You take a picture of the calendar just in case, too. Seems the next few events are on the eleventh, twenty-second, and then next month - on the sixth of may. As you flicker through the past years’ event list as well, without really looking at the dates, you notice mentions of discussion and marathon-based events, alongside art projects like cosplay, posters, fan-made art, also, actual literary analysis days… The last one causes you to become curious - Is there a faculty for film studies here? You’re unsure. You look back at the tired-looking man, who is writing something in his notebook.

“I’d like to help with some of these.” You offer. “I, uh, might help with posters for the cosplay events. Pictures n stuff.” You say awkwardly, then step away from the calendar, rubbing the back of your neck. 

Okay, how do I act un-awkward so that he doesn’t feel awkward?? But I’m awkward too! Fuck!

Junpei nods at you curtly, then raises his gaze to make quick eye contact with you. “You’re a photographer?”

You shrug. “Studying it here for a reason too, so..” 

“We have that?”

“Yup. Under the urban science faculty, though. Arts and design.” 

“Huh. I wonder why.” (A/N: Because I FUCKED UPPPPPPPP) He murmurs to himself, having a little trouble focusing on two things at once as he finds himself writing on that paper again. You fidget with the edge of the bookshelf, then look back to the mess of books and comics on the main desk. Wordlessly, you get to help, putting each book in its place on the nearest shelf, making sure to mind the genre, alphabetical order and volume - peeking at some illustrations and paragraphs nested inside the pages as well, to pass time before speaking again. 

Yoshino thanks you and looks at you with interest for a sec, then gets back to writing some notes in his notebook. The club is not new - obviously - but with the beginning of the semester, there are a lot of things to plan, new people to recruit, and he looks to maybe be the advisor, too. Probably a lot to think about.

“It could be nice, lining up cosplays of a horror movie or so.. Could be a contest as well.” - You suggest.

“Maybe.” The younger man replies, tapping his chin with his pen. He takes another sip from his mug.

“Probably would fit a Halloween event more, though.” You look at the wall and fix the tape that's keeping a poster on it, rubbing over the rough texture of its corner. Your eyes trail up the poster as you notice the character shown on it and smile, not having expected to see them here. “Is that Human Earthworm ? The second movie was-”

Yoshino's eyes light up, his notebook almost falling out of his hands as he stands up and exclaims: “Gory as hell!”

You grin. “Right? But that scene when-”

The two of you find yourselves sitting on the pastel, comfy bean bags and discussing the movie franchise together for a long time… And maybe some others. You laugh at some shitty movie scenes on the screen for a while until your phone buzzes - an alarm 15 minutes before your lecture. Pouting a bit, you stand up and stretch. “I have to go to class now, that was fun though. See you later?”

You look down at the boy - he wipes his tears of laughter and nods, a slight smile rests on his face again as he stands up after you. He fixes his hair to cover his scars again, and walks to the exit of the clubroom. You try to not pay attention, gazing away as if you saw nothing. He hums, leaning against the doorframe and fidgeting as you pass the threshold. You still for a second before leaving, keeping your eyes on the dark haired boy in case he has something to say. He stares to the floor and mutters:

“Thank you for your help.” After a bit, he adds on more loudly: “Me and Yuji were gonna have a horror movie marathon tomorrow. Other members too, like five, I think. Wanna go?”

You beam, and nod.

Walking out of the central library building, you take a turn and walk a straight path until you reach yet another tall building in front of the park - the second lecture hall. On your way up, you notice Yuji - and wave your hand at him, though he doesn’t react to you. And his clothing attire is rather different from the usual hoodie… Is he going on a date after this or something? You shrug, walk into the lecture hall and move on - your head stays buried in notebooks and new material, new programs and terminology to stick to your forehead, hoping it will fall into your brain one way or another. Your forehead does burn a bit, to think of it - is this how it feels to have an information overload? 

Due to whatever illness the lecture has given you, your body feels groggy and like cotton as you drag yourself towards the cafeteria and let out little groans, hungry and tired as hell. You have some lunch and lounge for the time being, then back up to your dorm you go, just…Lying there, on your bed, until you’re ready to face the demons of meal prep and a study session at the library. You peek at your phone and scroll on it for a bit, tired. You check group chat messages in case anything important happened, email, the weather information, your spam folder - anything but to avoid the inevitable Mystery Man chat. With a hiss, you open it. 

It’s not like anything happened, really, except that you keep stalling on meeting him. Boogeyman stories from your family back at the hometown haunt you and cause your stomach to twist into knots, each time you decide to ask him out, to finally meet up, you immediately stop yourself in fear of..You don’t even know what anymore. He’s aware of your... “Issue”, he seems to not be a bot as far as being able to respond to math equations and hyper specific messages without reminding you that he is just an LLM model, but still.. You worry. And you will keep worrying until this one loses interest, then the next one, then the next… You wish you were drunk, it's easier to do impulsive choices when you are.

Before you get to regret it, you quickly type away a message and hit send, shutting your phone off -

“April is a bit of a messy month for me due to the start of the semester and such, but do you think we could meet up at the start of May or so? Somewhere like a cafe or anything you like, really.”

then checking it again. And again.

… is typing

… is typing

… is typing

Fuck! You already regret it. Was that too late? Too soon? Did you say something wrong? You jump up on the bed, unable to lay or sit still. You stand up and pace around the room, about to have a nervous fit until you feel that familiar buzz in your hands.

“Sure. Does the sixth sound fine to you?”

“Sure (^_^)”

Ahhhh what the hell. Unable to calm yourself, you quickly dart out of your room, rush down the stairs and head towards the direction of the library. You need to walk those nerves out. Or study them out. One way or another - you need to be on the go, without time on your hands to regret or dwell on this. You quickly find yourself a selection of books and a quiet spot to read at. Multiples of them opened on different pages, highlights written down one by one - music blasting in your ears - you feel way better now. You get lost in the pages of literature, sometimes too mesmerized by the writing style to really focus on the information itself - causing your eyes to float between paragraphs back and forth until you focus on them enough to retain the information. Rinse, repeat.

Somebody taps on your shoulder, causing you to let out a confused grunt. You look behind yourself and lower your headphones, trying to see the stranger. Your coursemate looks down at you curiously, wearing his signature hoodie, pink hair brushed back again.

“How was the club meeting?” Yuji asks with a smile.

“Ah..It was fine. Yoshino invited me to the marathon.” You reply with a grin. Something about seeing this guy calms you down. “You’re going too, right?”

“Yep!” He sits near you and looks over the books, pointing at one. “What’s this?”

You cover your mouth and let out a reluctant yawn, then gesture vaguely as you respond: “Ah, some design homework, also - Math.. I didn’t take these classes at my former university, so I have to take them here.”

Yuji boos. “Boring.. You wanna go to the marathon together? I’ve gone many times.”

You shrug. “Sure, why not. Best for me to not get lost.”

That could have come off as a silly joke, but really, you didn’t explore much of this city yet - and you have gotten lost, missed the last train and just stayed at a 24/7 manga cafe until morning, reading random comics in your rented room until you fell asleep. Though that must be the common experience for students that hang out for too long late at night - most of them crash at cheap hotels, cafes or just walk home if it’s not too far away. A taxi, if they’re rich-rich. 

Before the two of you meet up in the evening, you have a quick grocery trip and nap a bit to get your overwhelmed brain to calm down before the movie night. A migraine is not what you need today. The two of you walk towards the station together, as agreed. You stay close to Yuji in crowds and switch between texting and whispering to him once inside the metro bus. It’s easy to talk to the guy, either because he likes to ramble, or because he waits for you to think out your responses, or he doesn’t make silence feel awkward as hell, or all three. You stare at your shoes while he whispers about some gossip he heard, which he doesn’t believe in himself.

The movie marathon goes fine, too. Some movies you recognize, some you watch for the first time, but all in all it was a pretty fun experience. You got to meet some new faces and exchange names with them as well. Yoshino opened up some more, as well. He is a nice guy. 

At last, you come back to your dorm and drop down on the bed, letting out a tired grunt. It’s so late!!! You roll over on the bed and hug your blanket. Your cheek rests onto the cold, warm texture, you are just lounging for awhile, until your eyes flutter shut, ready to fall asleep..

…

…

NOT AGAIN!!!

You groan loudly and kick the wall, hearing a muffled laugh from the other end, the volume of your neighbours’ previously blasting music slowly lowering down in volume. You sigh. You're gonna report him if this continues.

On Wednesday and Thursday, twice in a row you wake up feeling a bit groggy, for whatever reason. You roll over on the bed, sit up and open your laptop, checking the email. The professor had some sort of a family emergency, so a postgraduate student will be the substitute teacher for a bit instead. You frown a bit in compassion, then read some more details to make sure you don’t miss anything. You sigh and change out of your clothes, applying k-tape on yourself for today. You usually variate between that, a binder or a sports bra and a LOT of layers for colder days - and you love colder days for that. And maybe puffer jackets, too. It's easier to flatten out your silhouette in these. You slowly wake up while enjoying a heated up meal you prepared from yesterday, and find yourself humming.

Today, like yesterday, you have classes with Kugisaki and Fushiguro - most of them spent doing portfolio work or group projects - it is easier to team up with people you know, so naturally you ask to join their team before anyone else's, and hear no rejection from them. The assignment was to redesign a space, the interior, services, staff uniform, branding - basically anything goes. 

“So… Something that includes fashion, and veterinary?” You think out loud and tap your temple. Due to this being portfolio work, it is suggested to focus on your field of study - so the three of you start thinking on how to combine your design background with Fushiguros veterinary studies. “I mean, my first thought is a cat cafe, maybe?”

Megumi stares at the assignment paper and taps at it. “What about a vet hospital, but with additional services? Such as animal grooming. And the staff uniforms would need a do-over.” He looks over to Nobara, then to you. The both of you shrug with a positive frown - it doesn’t seem like that bad of an idea. You task yourself with doing the presentation and branding, while Kugisaki focuses on the visuals and Fushiguro compares mockups with her. 

“Well, the hospital should give a warmer feel..” - He mumbles.

“Like soft lighting?” - She asks and peeks over at his sketches.

“Yeah. And maybe a play or comfort area for the pets as they wait.”

So, the lobby area - the redesign would involve as mentioned soft light, wood flooring, and a more friendly decor - possibly different colors than just pale white. Per Kugisakis idea, the area would be more open, which would include the play area without causing the entire hall to feel cramped. The pathway would be changed around to follow a more natural flow from one room to another, then, additional services: grooming, boarding, retail, daycare, training, hydrotherapy -  Fushiguro focused on mapping out these, while getting commentary on visuals and actual interior work from the other design student. Both you and the girl would yawn at interior design lectures, but they had their perks - especially for group projects!

Once it comes to turning in your project, Fushiguro decides to present it to the professor himself. You haven’t heard him speak that much before - he is usually the quiet type, - though, that didn’t cause the verbal part of the presentation to come off as awkward or painted with filler words - it went well. You give your groupmate a quick, quiet applause briefly joined by Kugisaki as he sits back down with you at the desk. He turns his head away awkwardly, hiding a blush. 

You have a quick snack with the two outside the classroom, spending some time in silence. Nobara asks you as to what's wrong and you shake your head, smiling slightly. “Just a bit tired. I woke up feeling so groggy..”

She tilts her head, then nods to the vending machine - with its’ array of drinks. “Maybe you just need some coffee?”

You shrug as you approach the machine. “Maybe. I really liked those outfits you drew, though. The cat inspo was cute.”

“Thanks.”

Next comes philosophy, Friday. You approach someone’s desk, ask if the nearby seat is occupied by anyone and sit down once met with a shake of head. You greet your course mate with a quick nod and a hello, and unpack your stuff. He looks pretty cool, you think, as you look at his attire and serious face. You let out a hum and turn your laptop on.

You hear mumbles die down as firm footsteps approach the classroom - that is probably the substitute teacher themselves. You don’t pay them mind for a bit, you’re already a bit bored so you just focus on your notebook and laptop, picking out some pictures you took for next class. Collages are hard, picking out The Picture - even harder. Time to focus will come once the actual lecture starts, you think… Until a familiar, regal voice echoes through the room, causing you to snap your head upward as your eyes meet with a familiar, red pair. 

Your heart stops, blood running cold as you realize who you’re staring at and who is staring back at you. Hair freshly re-dyed pink again, eyes just as judgy as four days ago, Ryomen cocks his head and keeps eye contact with you for one second too long while introducing himself by name, then moves on to explain the situation to those unaware - that he is the substitute teacher for today, since the professor has had a family emergency, or medical emergency - whatever he is saying, you can't follow anymore. Your lips part, he smirks as he continues on talking. His voice fills up the entire room, your eardrums, your running mind - What the fuck?! 

What the hell is he doing here? Why is he the substitute teacher out of all people? Why the hell is he making me so anxious, what the fuck!? Calm down!

You look around the room, hoping to see a familiar face to focus on instead - and surely, there is that pink hair - Yuji! You get to texting him, not like you can stand up and walk over to talk to him anyway. Your fingers twitch as you type fast.

“THAT JOCK GUY STUDIES HERE????????”

Yuji looks up, meets eyes with you in the room, then looks to the guy sitting near you - a muscular dude that has his arms crossed as he listens with interest, his hair tied into a bun. You follow the pink-haired boys’ gaze and see some sort of a pink photocard hanging off of the man's backpack. Is that an idol? 

Buzz! Your eyes go back to the screen.

“Todo you mean? He’s a bit weird but he’s not a bully”

You type in full caps, then cancel and try to at least sound like you're calm. Don't freak out over nothing, big deal! 

“No, I meant Sukuna.”

“My brother? Yeah”

Your eyebrows shoot up. The younger Itadori notices, his gaze steady on you from the other end of the classroom. You let out a quiet chuckle… Brother? 

“You didn’t know?”

“No. You guys have quite different personalities then huh?”

“Yeah LOL”

So this was the post graduate. Your eyes fall downwards as you lean against the chair and place your phone down. Of all people Sukuna had to be the substitute teacher, especially for your favorite class? This sucks.. You frown a bit, then look up to the board. This isn’t middle school anymore, after all.. Sure, you’ve had that silly moment, but surely he wouldn’t hold it over your head? Nobody else seems to treat him like he’s that petty either, so just breathe, will you?

You sigh, barely believing yourself and get to taking notes, trying to avoid looking him in the eye - his voice doesn’t sound so bad when he’s not pissed off, at least. Your eyes trail to his hand, which he uses to point at something on the presentation, then travel to his tattooed wrist, then over his clothes - that suit is pretty, the first button of his shirt is undone, the jacket matches the tie and flatters his physique too, but, something about it is giving you a weird feeling. Maybe it’s just that he’s handsome? That’s not much to admit, even if you kinda don't like the guy - it’s practically written on his forehead, - but no, that’s not it. You tilt your head as you listen to him talk, then it suddenly hits you, as Sukuna turns his back on you - oh, you do recognize that suit. Was that him you waved at back then?!

Note to self, make sure to come up close to Yuji before greeting him, incase it ends up to be this guy. Or maybe don't greet him until he does it himself - why would you wanna get close to a potential Sukuna? Ugh… Another buzz comes from your phone, vibrating rather harshly against the wooden desk. You cringe, turning to pick it up. Many people in the lecture room perk up and look at the source of the sound, causing you to purse your lips, embarrassed.

Suddenly, your last name echoes in the room, alongside with fingers snapping. You freeze in place and follow the noise, meeting eyes with the red-eyed substitute teacher again, who’s looking at you plainly. “Keep it down will ya?” He asks with a raised eyebrow and smirks. Your face gets hot from embarrassment as you shrink into your seat, trying to disappear into the chair, or the ground itself. Or maybe the earth is better. Yes, underground with the worms would be better than this. Ugh, he is so gonna hold your mistakes over your head, you can just feel it. You need to avoid him for the rest of the class, as much as you can! Just what the fuck did you sit at the front for?! You turn off the vibration on your phone after apologizing meekly, he only hums in response and continues on. You look at the notification bar - it was another message from Yuji again.

“Could you buy some sweets with me during break? I feel awkward eating them alone :”(“

“Sure.”

“Sorry about the buzz!!”

This guy is so nice. How come his brother is such an asshole? Escaping out of here would be the best, though, yes, and as soon as possible. Especially getting the reward of having some sweets after that nightmare of embarrassing yourself in front of your coursemates... Are you dramatizing again? Aghhh, what does it matter if you feel the embarrassment nonetheless! You pout and keep your head buried in your notebooks throughout the lecture. At least the postgraduate did not direct his attention to you again verbally, and just kept to the lecture - who knows if he tried to meet your gaze again - your eyes were glued elsewhere, towards your notebooks. You fidget with your hair and look at the calendar - you’ll only see him once or twice more, and then the professor will come back, so there’s not much to worry about… Right?

You look up, meeting eyes with him on accident again. You quickly dart your gaze elsewhere and hear a faint chuckle. And sure - he doesn’t seem all that pissed off or anything anymore, but - Ahhh, he’s intimidating! And he keeps looking at you with that ridicule, like he knows you messed up! 

It doesn't take any extra nudging to get you to rush out of the classroom once the lecture ends - you practically dart out of it and go towards the cafeteria, waiting for Yuji by the vending machine and freezer shelves. of the convenience store nearby. You got some mochi ice cream and other treats to share with him. Eventually, he comes with a cheery smile, dragging a confused man with him. You squint - he looks pale, his eyes - bruised? Or is that eyeshadow? The other, paler boy has his black hair divided into two high ponytails, and a mask covers the lower half of his face. He blinks slowly and greets you with an awkward hand raise. 

“Hi.”

Ah, eyeshadow. 

“Hi.” You greet him back, with an awkward smile alike to the meme describing how white people awkwardly smile at each other. Yuji starts at it, introducing the both of you while you nod along and offer treats to the men in front of you, already enjoying yours while slowly getting to know this person named Choso Kamo. Yuji says they are half-brothers, you don't question it. You lean against the wall while chewing on the mochi. Yum.

“What do you study, Choso?”

“Ah, med student.”

“Shiiit.” You cringe in condolence. He chuckles tiredly and leans against the wall. “Yeah.” The man sips his drink and watches the students enter and leave the cafeteria. “So you're new here, right?” 

“Yeah, started this semester. Same year as Yuji.” You reply calmly and look to the ground, then to the man standing near. Yuji enjoys his snacks and then hums, patting your shoulder.

“Will you come by the club later? It's quieter there.”

You tilt your head, unsure of what he means - he's never looked like the type to hate crowds, or noise? Then it sort of… Hits you as you study his nervous behavior. He's staring around, as if trying to spot something - someone. Yuji is trying to help you avoid his brother. That's cute. You can't help but let out a laugh. “Is this about your brother? It’s fine-”

“Nahh, I know that look on his face, he's going to chase ya and tease ya and be a bit of a bully! And you're too sweet for that! I just got you to talk, I don't want you to become all shy again.” He pouts.

You blink slowly. Choso lets out a quiet chuckle and turns his head, covering his mouth. This guy really does act like a kid sometimes, but… Not in a bad way. You cant help but smile. “Awh man. Thanks.” You give the pink haired boy a little noogie, laughing as he whines at you to stop. 

...

After the last lecture, you walk to the dormitories, too tired to really hang out with the others for the day. You spend the rest of the evening at your room, just lounging again. Reminiscing. So, The rest of the week went by alright so far. You finally registered to join the club Yuji invited you to, got yourself introduced to Junpei, had some project work and quality time with Megumi and Nobara… You check the calendar - it's the 13th tomorrow, Saturday. You look upwards toward the ceiling as you think about what to do for that day except the obvious, that being classwork. Or maybe do that on Sunday, but…

You check for your phone, patting around the bed before you pick it up and look at the screen. You don't do much but play some mobile games, then turn on a TV show for background noise, eventually to fall asleep to. Curled up on the bed, you text your mystery guy once more as he asks you how your week went. And you actually have things to tell him this time, instead of sounding like a recluse! Yet again, that buzz against your wall.. And you swear you can hear people talking, too. You're reporting your neighbour to the staff if he doesn't stop after curfew!

“..So yeah, I've been doing alright. Just my neighbours bein’ an asshole.”

“That sucks. Want me to beat him for you?”

You chuckle. He’s silly.

“Ha ha … Goodnight :-)”

Eventually, the conversations die down, you hear people leaving right around 11 pm as per dorm rules, and yet the music goes on. Your eyes have not shut yet. Sure, you're one night owl, but eventually you do have to go to sleep and all that background noise only hurts your ears. With a tired sigh, you stand up. You won't be able to cope with this for two more years. You quickly put on a binder just incase, and throw on a jacket as you come out of your room, locking the door behind yourself as you walk up to your neighbours door, listening in just to double check that you're not going to bother a random guy for no reason. You shift your weight from one foot to another, readying yourself to knock.

After three knocks, the door opens.

Red eyes lock onto yours, narrowing slightly. Pink hair brushed back, a few strands falling on his forehead. The man leans against the doorframe, shirtless, his tattooed body on display. He has his arms crossed as he scowls at you, eyebrow raised quizzically. Sweatpants hang low on his hips. Was he napping? What does this matter, the main problem is HIM!

"What?" A tired voice calls out.

You freeze as you recognize the man in front of you and curse yourself for not checking the nametag on the door - except this university doesn't have them anyway! Wide eyed, you stare at Sukunas tired face, panicked. You purse your lips as you try your darnest to focus your gaze on his face. He shifts, his arm muscles twitching - this distracts you as your eyes flick downward on instinct. You squeeze them shut, and quickly dart your gaze away once they're open again. Don't look, don't look, don't look-

“Ah, its you .” He says after a beat, clearly not having expected to see you again. “Whatd’ya want?”

You blink once, twice, staring at the man blankly. Your shoulders slump as you think of how to approach him. You slowly cross your arms, trying to appear unbothered, which fails the moment you open your mouth to speak.

“Um, would it be ok to ask you to lower the volume?” You stammer out, fidgeting with your sleeve, which Sukuna notices. Naturally, you get even more awkward and fidgety. He raises an eyebrow again, like you've done something wrong by asking that question. The older man looks at the clock briefly, then back to you. “30 minutes max.” is all he says, pushing a bit past curfew. But you can't just argue with him, can you?

“Ah…Sure that works, thanks.” You say quietly. Sukuna stares back at you, quiet. You take a step back, more than ready to leave, but then you continue, just a bit calmer than before: “Uh, again, sorry for that awkwardness at the party.” 

He squints at you, frowning before he speaks up again: “That was more than just awkwardness. My shirt reeked of booze. Cheap booze too.”

“Sorry..”

You apologize again and look down, embarrassed, then back to him. What else can you do? Sukuna sighs like a tired teacher in a loud classroom and tilts his head back. Then, as if he gets a light bulb moment, he cocks his head with a smirk and he asks a question you will begin to dread in your future interactions:

“Whatcha gonna do about it then?”

“Eh?”

The pink haired man chuckles, slowly, baring his teeth. He continues: “I don't believe in apologies. You soiled my shirt, ruined my lecture, and interrupted my music session today, too. Might as well do me a favor.”

Ruined is a strong word, but… No time to argue. You knit your eyebrows, getting worried, and more than a bit intimidated. What the hell would he want? Wait, if he's the substitute, does he know? Is he going to try to out you? There's no way, right? Then what else is he going to ask?

“Like what?” 

He stares at you for a long while, a soft scowl on his face, until his facial expression relaxes. He brushes his hair back and declares: “Clean my room. It's a mess, and you owe me.”

You blink. Crisis averted.

“...You’re joking.”

“Do I look like I am?” He grins, showing off his canines again. You shift your weight from one leg to another again, feeling awkward.

“Uh.. Alright I guess. Like-Like now?”

He turns his back on you wordlessly and walks into the dorm. You look at the tattoos on his back with interest, wondering what they mean as you follow him in. A comfortable couch, music playing from a laptop, two beds on opposite sides- posters all over the wall on the right-side bed. A kitchen space - fridge, microwave, sink, that's the usual. - there's this bachelor mood all around the place, except for the fact that it got a bit..Off. Not too messy, but it seems to not fit the overall feel of the dorm, or him. Sukuna doesn't seem like a messy person, you think.

He lowers the volume as he explains where cleaning supplies are, then plops down on the couch, arms crossed, head tilted back. He lets out a tired sigh. You fidget, wondering what happened or who was that disrespectful to trash his stuff. As you pick up the supplies one by one, you can't help but ask.

“Hey, uh.. No bad feelings, right?” You look over your shoulder at him, cringing at yourself - you sound like you'ree kissing up, but still, you can't help but ask. “Like are we chill or..”

“I'm not plotting to kill you just for being annoying, I'm not a damn Yakuza.” He mutters without even opening his eyes. Your eyes widen - you didn't think of him that badly, though! But sure, tattoos aren't loved much here, so he probably gets that a lot. “Plus, you're Yujis friend.” - The pink haired man adds on, making you hum curiously. Yuji talks about you?

“Okay.”

You look at the place again. The floor needs to get cleaned, something got spilled on it. Then, books and games need to be sorted back onto their shelves, wrappers and cans Disposed of. Probably would need to mop the floor after this and, eh.. You peek at the sink, seeing dishes that need to be done. Sukuna just walks around, slowly cleaning up himself, disposing of drinks and wrappers. You fix your hair back, a bit tired. The older man throws you a can with a verbal warning, you catch it and look at the namesake. Some sort of soda, cherry flavored. You thank him and take a quick sip, before getting back to cleaning the counter, then the floor. You look up at him briefly from time to time - the constant slow blinking and narrowing of his eyes makes more sense now, with the mini-dorm-party added, he definitely had a long day and, maybe didn't sleep well, either. “You ok?”

“3 hours of sleep yesterday. Managing it.” Sukuna replies tiredly, his voice sounding a bit low from exhaustion. You non-verbally nudge him to the couch, which he laughs at and raises his hands in defeat as he leans on it again. 

“Who the hell trashed your place?” You ask quietly.

“My asshole of a friend. Ah, you won't know him though.”

You hum and work away quietly. This is weird. Like, very weird, but at least you don't feel like the man will jump on you, neither is he staring down at you like a hawk. The kitchen is almost spotless, but still you need to do those dishes that got piled on, and arrange the books/games that were left on the table. It's a quite spacious dorm made for two, you were assigned a smaller one as requested, though that brought you no problems - it felt cozy, and safe.

“You got a roommate?” You ask politely as you start stacking some movies and games back up - some of these too childish for this guy to play, you think. You saw  a few games that you could have sworn were Itadoris favorite. 

“No, they left. But my brother comes over sometimes. Leaves his shit all over the place.” He grumbles. You look to him for a second and hum. He looks a bit cute when he pouts and grumbles- ah what the hell are you thinking, you have an awful taste in men! A pretty face should not muddy your mind! Your eyes briefly fall back to his chest and you immediately turn your head away. He chuckles. “Annoying?” You question, finding the work done easier when conversing.

“Very. Just like this pipsqueak that didn’t even tell me his name.”

You freeze and feel your ears burn. “Uh-Its-” You stutter out your name, then look at him confused. Isn't Sukuna supposed to know? He wrote down attendance at the end of the lecture- You meet eyes with him and notice the look on his face. Ugh, you fell for it...

“For a second you sounded like you forgot it.” He grins arrogantly. You look at him, a bit pouty. Is he bullying you? is He just joking? Ugh, you're not sure anymore. Social cues suck. Ryomens' face relaxes into a laid-back smile as he sees your confused reaction. He is so arrogant but you can't help the little smile that goes up your face, too. You turn your head away - he doesn't get to see that. Still, your stomach twists at the thought you had just a bit ago…

“Is my name written weird on the records?” You ask indirectly.

“Like misspelled or something? It's…” He spells it out letter by letter, before taking a sip from his can. Yep. Your chosen name. You let out a hum and shake your head no, as if confirming that you were worried for nothing. He lights a cigarette, taking a drag. Unable to stop your body from doing what's natural, you gently cough into your fist.  

“Sensitive?” He asks calmly. You nod. “Uh, yeah sorry, an issue I have.” You say absent mindedly and wave your hand, expecting to be bombarded with questions or ridicule. He simply shrugs and opens the window, leaning over it as he smokes. Hm. You look at his back, the tattoos nesting on his shoulder blades, his hips- uh okay well. Well, anyway, he is considerate , you think as you smile to yourself. You sort his vinyls, making sure to be careful with them. You notice a few familiar names and smile. As the music switches over to a band you recognize, you hum along quietly. London After Midnight is a bit easier on the ears than the shit he had playing before. Ah, you’re being judgmental. You slowly begin commenting on media you recognize.

“Zelda?” He grunts back to you without turning his head. 

“..Akutagawa?”

A lot of Japanese classics. Mostly philosophy, though.. You’re learning a lot about him by just cleaning his room now. Makes you feel a bit creepy. You ask a few short questions - small talk is better than silence, and he seems alright with this soft interrogation. His voice rests on a feeling between calm and something you can't describe yet. After you finish up with the dishes, you pick your phone up, fidgeting for a bit, pretending you have something to do. You feel so anxious or, embarrassed or…. You're just flustered around Sukuna because he's hot, nothing more. Not like you're attracted to him, his personality sucks! You then place your phone face down and get to mopping. Sukuna stretches and puts out his cigarette, then raises an eyebrow in a positive frown as he watches you. Eventually, he finishes his drink and approaches you.

“You're actually cleaning up, huh? Good puppy.” He pats your head. Your entire face goes hot from embarrassment, and perhaps annoyance. This guy!!

“Hey, stop that!” You argue back in a low voice, scowling at him as you tap his hand away. Sukuna looks at you, surprised. After a beat, he laughs and shakes his head, raising his hand in defeat. He says something alike to my bad, but you’re too stuck in seeing red and covering your head in offense to notice. Before long, he passes you by to get to the kitchen counter. Sukuna makes a sandwich and shares a serving with you - you accept with thanks. You chew slowly and lean against the counter. Quiet. There's nothing much to do otherwise. 

“So you're a photographer?” A low voice calls beside you. You look to your right only to see the man looking at you, expressionless, leaning against the wall.. And your phone in hand. Your phone. Your heart almost jumps out of your body - at least you exited that dating app before shutting your phone off, right, right? What the hell is he looking at? While you are busy with silently panicking and staring at him, Sukuna hums and fiddles with your phone. Right, you need to answer him too - You nod weakly, gulping and turning back to - well, you have nothing to do. You sigh and slowly scoot over closer, starting your plan of getting your phone back. You peek at the screen - he is scrolling through some pictures.

“Hobbyist.” You reply plainly, eyes trained on his manicured hands holding the phone. Huh, you didn’t take him for the type. Though, black is a nice color. He just hums in response and keeps on sliding through the pictures. The silence is killing you. You need your phone back in your hands, in your pocket, or out the window, anywhere but in Ryomens hand. You let out a strained chuckle and raise your hand to take your phone. “Can you give it ba-”

He frowns a bit and turns. “Nah. Gimme a sec. I'm just scrolling that photography album.” 

…Silence. You rub your neck, awkward as you watch what he's looking at. He goes beyond just the moon pics, landing on pictures of dogs, and frowns curiously. “Ah. dog guy.”  You nod weakly again and look away. Sukuna hands you the phone back and tilts his head, staring until you meet eyes with him. You do it once, look away, then give him a double take once you realize the expression on his face - he has something to say, and he won’t until you look at him. You stare at Sukunas nose bridge instead of keeping eye contact - a trick you’ve learnt years ago. And he doesn’t notice the difference. Except, he smiles for whatever reason.

“Quiet one, puppy?” 

You blink once, twice, and let out an awkward “uh” sound. The pink haired man smirks wordlessly and just stares at you. You lose the ability to speak for a bit, your eyes moving from his nose bridge to his eyes, staring right at the man in confusion. Did he just call you a puppy?! The man looks you up and down for a second before speaking up again: “Are you that awkward? Speak up.” 

After a beat, you chuckle, hesitant, and take a few steps away from him to get that can of yours - both to get away from him and to fiddle with the tab. You clear your throat and respond calmly: “...Sorry, yeah, I like dogs. That stuff is for my classwork.” 

“Classwork.” He repeats and looks at the ceiling, mulling over something until he meets eyes with you again. You nod and stare at his nose bridge again - damn, this guy is obsessed with eye contact. “Why are you studying that, specifically?” He asks curiously and stretches, cracking his back.

“I guess because I've always liked it. Also, it captures the soul.” You mumble awkwardly, trying to weasel out of the conversation and get to your dorm already. You fidget with the tab back and forth, then press down on it. You focus your eyes on the can for a bit while the man hums. “A Lot of my pictures as a kid are just forced smiles and posing. I don't think I get the ideal.”

“Well, I don’t like that kind of stuff. It’s more like capturing my friends in the moment when they’re not looking, or when they’re having an actual, genuine laugh, then there’s the art behind the composition itself, or the colors, or additional..” You quieten down and shrug. You can’t think of anything else to say, or more like, anything else that won’t sound corny - you’d hate to sound like a nerd in front of this guy. Ryomen shifts and shrugs.

“Fair enough, I guess.” He taps his chin, thinking of something, then picks up his phone. Asks you if you’ve done any gigs, which you shake your head no at. You used to, but not anymore. You did in your hometown, but after moving, eh… You started doing some freelance work at least, though it would be fun to pick up your camera for work again, you think. You press into the tab too hard and hiss as it breaks off, making your finger collide with the metal of the can. You cringe and press your thumb to your mouth - at least it didn’t get cut, but, ow. Sukunas eyes dart towards you in confusion from the sound, then to the tab you broke off. He gives you a hum of approval - you got the full tab out.

“I should probably get going.” You say quietly. “Think it’s good enough?”

The two of you look over his dorm after you ask that question - you sure did save it from the chaos the guests left it in before. Sukuna hums and pretends to think, resting his chin on his fist - you look at the tattoo circling his wrist and wonder how much that one hurt. “Not as polished as I’d wish,” He adds on jokingly. “But it’s late. So, sure.”

The man sighs, walks you to the door, then stalls for a second. You look at his slightly bloodshot looking eyes - then to the tattoos following his eyeline, cheekbone area. Oh, the chin too. While you’re busy looking at the man's chin, a mischievous grin finds itself on his face again. 

“You know, I’ve got an idea.”

He draws out his words, as if about to offer you something that comes with a price…And he won’t say it until you ask him, right? With a defeated sigh, you nudge him verbally and cross your arms. “What?”

“I’m hosting a party next week. Need someone to do the picture part - and Yuji sucks at it. What do you think? Are you free by then?”

You blink, and he adds on, trying to convince you: “I’ll pay ya. And then, consider us even. A favor for each fuck-up, eh?” He grins - you frown. When will he drop this! This man is like everyone’s anxious thoughts about awkward moments or embarrassing situations being blown out of their proportion - in human form! You think nobody cares? He does, and he will remind you of your fuckups until you- Ah, where the hell are you going with this, you need to answer him. 

You let out a strained sigh and look at the floor. Ryomen takes a step closer, his gaze curious. “You alright, pipsqueak?” he asks, face neutral, observing. He tilts his head and puts his palms on his hips, patiently waiting for an answer. You tilt your head back to look at him - he's not much taller but, with the close proximity it's hard to meet his eyes otherwise.  You gulp, and gesture awkwardly, already regretting your answer:

“Uh…When is it exactly? And... What kinda party?” 

Sukuna grins. Those upcoming questions already signal a yes for him, and it shows. Straightening up his back, he quickly runs the information by you, and promises to text you about the location itself - probably through Yuji, because there is no way the boy will let him have your number. Ugh, great, and so begins the hell of doing favors for Sukuna - there is no way it stops here. Is this bullying? Bickering? Just a guy that weirdly holds grudges? You don't get it, it’s not like he’s exactly harassing you, but you find yourself too scared of saying no to him. You look a bit…sick. You hear something muffled in the background repeating in a slow manner. He repeats himself for the third time and snaps his fingers - which also snaps you out of your daze.

“Huh?”

“I asked, are you free? It’s fine if not.” He shrugs, his expression calm, unbothered. You make a discomforted face and look away, then shrug.

“Uh... I’ll see what I can do.” After a beat, you clear your throat. “Well.. I’ll go, uh, sleep.” You say awkwardly and pass the threshold, finally weaseling out of the dorm. You quickly thank him before getting to your door, which is a few steps away from his, and let out a breath you didn't realize you've been holding.

“Hey,” - Sukunas voice calls out, causing you to turn your head towards him.

“Watch where you walk.” 

He winks at you, baring his teeth in a grin. Blood rushes to your cheeks as you stare at him, wide eyed, and nod again, trying and failing at properly unlocking the door - you ignore his faint laugh and get in after the second try, immediately locking the door behind yourself and hiding under your blanket, your face feeling hot, head buzzing. At least the music isn't there anymore, but at what cost?

After some time spent in this hiding mode, you slowly peek your head out of the blankets and lay on your back, staring to the ceiling. Your cheeks burn. The cherry soda you had in hand rests on your bedside counter, the tab fell inside. You sit up and pick it up, fidgeting with it at the sink while you try to get that full tab out. Eventually, it falls onto your palm., alongside the remnants of that soda. You give your hand a rinse, dispose of the can, and walk back to bed.

You won’t find sleep for a while.

Yet again not sure if i should be reposting these here but shhh let me experiment

[cafeinthemoon]

More Myself Than I Am - Chapter VI

Chapter 6/?

Wordcount 2k

Title The Mafia's Offer

Fandom Bungo Stray Dogs

Pairing Akutagawa Ryuunosuke x reader

Previous chapters

1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5

Symbols ⭕ . ➕ . 💛

Warnings: a (well deserved) threat of bone crushing from reader to Mori-san

Tagging @lasidollily @samyayaya @anzanity (If you want to be tagged in any of my stories, just leave a comment on this chapter or send an ask or a message)

N. A.: So... I'm so sorry if this title is not as good as it sounded in my head, but I couldn't find a better one 😅 I've been wanting to post this part of the story for so long, because the main scene in it - the conversation between reader and the PM'S head - was basically the reason why I've started all of this in the first place. In this one, I tried to portrait reader in her purest version, something that she would only manage to be in a strange place, out of her family's sight: an unpolished, but powerful being, as fearless as a wild beast in a moment , but as sensitive and shy as she used to be in her regular days in the next. However, my fav part was to work on Elise's depiction, in which I've put some scifi vibes by describing her as having a deep, almost symbiotic connection with Mori, given the mimicked gestures between the two.

I've spent this whole day working on this chapter because I wanted to post it today, and I did it haha Hope you enjoy it :)

Also let's change the GIF for today 💜

Dr. Ougai – if that was his real name – didn’t show half of the surprise you did when he put his eyes on you. Instead, he exhibitted an undeniable contentment for finally meeting you in that place.

– Welcome, y/n-san – he greeted you, indicating the chair with a gesture of his hand while taking the seat behind the table – I understand that everything is happening too fast, and I apologize for this, but we have no choice. I hope Akutagawa-kun has treated you with courtesy.

You didn’t reply, neither you took a step toward the table. You glanced at Akutagawa, who was as silent as yourself, but somehow he convinced you to accept his boss’ invitation.

That didn’t go unnoticed by him.

– Well, since these are how things are going between you, it will make everything easier – he commented with a chuckle – Anyway, the pleasure for receiving you here is all mine.

As you took your place on the chair, you laid your hands on your lap in a frail attempt to hide the embarrassment that made them tremble.

For a moment, none of you talked, so that even your breaths were audible, echoing around that large room, increasing the tension. You felt your body getting colder with the growing sensation of danger, in a way that the sound of a needle falling on the carpet would make you stand up and run.

And that was how you almost screamed when a door was opened somewhere around you and hurried, childish steps approached your spot. When you looked at your right, you saw a blonde, little girl with a red dress and a doll in hands approaching the table and sitting upon it, dangling her legs while giving her undivided attention to the doll, which you noticed to be a miniature of herself.

The girl didn’t look or say anything to the presents, not even to Dr. Ougai, who just kept quiet, with his elbows on the table, observing her with a discreet smile. You didn’t know why, but something about that child created an uneasiness in your senses, the kind of thing which reason you’d only understand if you had the chance to activate your ability.

But I don’t think I’ll have an opportunity so soon.

Before you thought of anything in this sense, the head of the Mafia started the real conversation.

– As I believe Akutagawa-kun has explained to you, the situation is not favorable, being worse for you than for your sisters – he started – Because of this, I ask you to concentrate in what I have for yourself instead of them, at least for now.

You swallowed.

– What do you want from me?

His response to this was to open a grin.

– So practical... That’s better. As you can see, it is not without a reason that we took interest in you. As an esper, you need a place where you can find use for your talents. We from the Port Mafia can offer you that. So, this is my deal: work for us, and you will have the opportunity to solve your immediate problems.

You opened your mouth, then closed it again without a word. He was inviting you to become part of a criminal organization, having him as your superior?

As taking your silence for doubt, Dr. Ougai continued to talk, with a calmness that implied his hope that your answer would be positive, for you wouldn’t have reasons to refuse it.

– Of course, your reward will come accordingly, not only for you, but for the ones you are trying to protect.

– Are you talking about… – you whispered.

– Your elder sister, who I used to help – his reply was cold and direct – If you say yes my invitation, the Port Mafia will provide the protection you need right now regarding your condition as an esper with an unregistered ability. If you solve this matter, you can concentrate in the other ones.

Your hands held on to each other, squeezing themselves tight.

How much does he know about what happened in our apartment?

– The other ones?

– We have our ways to keep in touch with the events outside. I am aware that things are going to get difficult for you because of what happened to that young man, not only because of the facts themselves, but because of what might be said about your participation in them.

You frowned.

What are you talking about?

Instead of giving you a clear answer, he opted for a kind of advice.

– Believe me, the authorities in this country are not so willing to work in favor of peculiar people like you. If you want to be treated with any justice, you will need help.

Well, he was right in this. You had no experience in juridical matters, and no money to get a lawyer who would be willing to defend a murderer with stranger powers.

– We can also cover all the expenses of Viginia-san’s treatment – he continued – Which, as you already know, are not low.

You moved in your seat, uncomfortable.

– My sister…

The smile that Dr. Ougai has been maintaining for the entire conversation faded a bit, something that didn’t please you at all. Your eyes turned to the girl’s direction and saw no change in her attitude.

It’s like she’s in a stand by mode. How strange.

The voice of the Mafia’s head brought your attention back to him again. He wasn’t smile anymore.

– Let me give you some advice, girl. I can see how selfless you are, so if worrying about yourself is not enough to convince you, think about her. You already told me about the whole situation. After all she has done for her family, she deserves all their support – and lowering his tone a bit – And, speaking as a doctor, I have to tell you that her condition might reach a critical point if it doesn’t receive the attention it needs right now. I understand it’s unpleasing to hurry you up, but the truth is that you don’t have much time.

You remained in silence at all those words. Yes, given your circumstances, you could say that Dr. Ougai was right: if you didn’t do anything, it could be too late to save your sister; it could be too late for yourself. And no one in this world would help you. There was so much to consider yet so little time to decide… However, that wasn’t the reason for your quietness.

You had something different in mind.

Your fingers started tingling in nervousness.

– I suppose you’ve planned all of this… – you raised your eyes at him – Right?

His expression of triumph – the certainty that you were going to accept his deal – was shaken; at the same time, the little girl’s legs stopped dangling and she raised her head at you. The synchrony between their gestures wasn’t less than disturbing.

– What? – Dr. Ougai mumbled.

– Meeting us at the most convenient occasion, helping my sister, never accepting any payment… and now, this – you started, your fingers moving upon your lap – Everything comes with a price, and in this case the price is to work for you. You waited patiently, never worrying, because you knew that sooner or later, we would end up here, having this conversation.

He shrugged.

– More or less. But it is true that I’ve been observing you for a while. Still, I didn’t have half of the work I thought I’d have to bring you here, thanks to what happened in your house.

Now you were furious. If you were the only one who was involved, you could endure the manipulation and deceiving, but having your family’s circumstances used in a bargain like that was something you just couldn’t accept.

Your powers were awakened, and the entire place was taken over by your expanded consciousness, from the book on the shelves thrown on the ground to the glass of the windows exploding in thousands of shards, one by one, the deafening sounds of your unleashed wrath in each of them; the carpet was floating on the spots that haven’t objects upon them, and even the table was shaking; the familiar pressure appeared behind your eyes while you stared at the man in front of you, eager to drown him darkness in your eyes. The girl on the table looked around, nervous, but didn’t move from her place.

– And how can you be so sure that I’ll say yes to this deal – as you raised your hand in a threatening gesture, the papers upon the table started trembling – Instead of crushing each bone in your body for messing with my family?

Despite the strong feelings you’ve been experiencing, you couldn’t help complimenting Dr. Ougai’s self control before the sight of your technique, which you knew it was far from beautiful: not showing the slightest sign of disturb, he just leaned an elbow on the table, with his chin on his palm, and observed you with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, as if your powers, when activated by anger, were as inoffensive as when you showed them for the first time, just as an example. Thanks to them, you were also able to look in the depths of his energetic signature, confirming that his calmness wasn’t a mere act. The girl, less scared now, stared at you with a similar expression, and now that you were using your ability, you finally understood the connection between her and the mafia’s leader.

He’s an esper like me, and this girl is his ability.

Before anything else happened, you sensed something hot wrapping itself tight around your raised wrist, limiting your movements. You looked at it and found out it was one of the stripes of Akutagawa’s Rashomon. It didn’t hurt you, however: it was just as a silent way he found to tell you that you reached a line which you shouldn’t cross. You felt a slight unbalance in your emotions, and the stripe slowly loosened its grip as your ability was deactivated. You sighed, putting your hands on your lap again.

Ignoring everything that just happened, Dr. Ougai spoke, as calm and serious as before.

– The choice is yours, but I must warn you that you will upset some people with this, including your sister, who will not like to hear that you ended up involved in more troubles, my Elise-chan here – for the first time, he referred to the girl, who was dangling her legs and playing with the doll again – And, of course, the true mentor of this proposal. All of this if you don’t count on facing all the struggles we just discussed on your own by the way.

You frowned.

So, if he’s not the mind behind all of this... who is it?

– True mentor? What do you mean?

Instead of giving you a verbal response, his gaze turned from you to the young man by your side. You followed Dr. Ougai’s look and, once your eyes landed on Akutagawa, he turned away in an obvious attempt of hiding his embarrassment, the black stripe moving away from your wrist as to follow his gesture.

– Akutagawa-kun…? – you mumbled.

With your face burning, you turned back to the head of the Port Mafia; on his face you noticed a sort of satisfaction with what he was witnessing, but nothing was said about that.

– It’s true that I had an interest in bringing you to our side since the start, but most of our actions were his idea – he explained – I just gave him my permission. In addition, he asked me to take care of your sister, and I did, and the rest of the story is known by you.

You didn’t reply, and he just continued to talk, now observing his subordinate with a mixture of pride and comprehension.

– You know, he has a sister too, who has only him to count on for a long time. It’s not without reason that he took the lead in this particular case, for he understands your feelings better than anyone.

[melkor-did-nothing-wrong]

Hullo!

Just wanted to say that your blog is really cool! I’ve been back on and off in my Tolkien hyperfixation recently (mainly Silm but overall also works), and yours is one of the few that caught my eye, esp with the pinned post :)

Tho, I’m sorry that you seem to be attacked for shipping Angbang “wrong”, that’s just sad

Just because you have a different outlook on things doesn’t give others the right to attack you for it. But, some people apparently don’t have enough empathy and/or sympathy to see that :/

I know it’s so much easier said than done, but try ignoring those people? They will have a problem no matter what you do, the way I see it, so might as well enjoy the thing you do regardless, since it’s not hurting anybody, right?

So… I hope you have a good timezone, and hopefully people will educate themselves on basic kindness and respect soon :)

- Dragon Anon

Been sitting on this one for a few days without posting because I needed to stare at it one on one and think how to best reply to it.

Unfortunately, time did not help as I have nothing wittier or more thought provoking to say to any of your points than I did upon receiving this so I may as well post this now rather than have you waiting.

I could apologize for this blog catching your interest, rather than all the good ones. I could apologize because I produce no stunning art or amazing fics beloved by all and have no large variety of silm ships to offer you. This was supposed to be an Ainur blog more broadly, but hard times directed me to my comfort ship within the silm and I've stuck with posting it to the detriment of all else for... a while. There are so many wonderful silm blogs for you to find and enjoy. With more Ainur and Eldar and dwarves and men. Some of them I wish with all my heart would tag content relating to specific ships or characters so I could filter it more easily and join the rest of the community in enjoying them as well.

While I'm personally exhausted to the point of snapping at the prospect of being harassed over my ship takes, I do need to remember that this is the internet, and someone out there will always use the veil of anonymity to bring others down. And naturally, if there has to be one specific and certain ship within this fandom which gets all the mockery and vitriol for being "the one people should be discouraged from shipping", I suppose it's only natural for it to be the one with the bad people in it, rather than a more beloved ship favored by more people. And if anyone within that "bad" ship is going to get hate, of course the easiest target is some autistic foreigner whose takes are generally bizarre in the eyes of the wider public ("What?! someone who did something BAD is capable of FEELINGS?!?!? and of maintaining a happy relationship?!? how dare you!"). People see any nuance given to villains, any nuance given to villains in a RELATIONSHIP, heck, people see any joy and genuine love attributed to these characters and they just have to pounce.

I just never understood why every other Villain loves Villain ship in any and all fandoms on the planet get more grace and nuance than this one. Silm is largely supposed to be the more "adult" fandom in the legendarium. We have no visual media to popularize it, so it remains in the hands of the older fans who read the book and had to sit down with their thoughts about what was written in it. And yet other fandoms, including ones aimed at children or young teens are more accepting and less judgmental of their peers when it comes to shipping some fictional meanies.

Ignoring them IS difficult. Every time I get a notification about an ask in my inbox or a direct message, of course I want to assume the best. I welcome the prospect of an open conversation with anyone who agrees OR disagrees with me and I want to leave the door open to people who want to change my mind or even their own mind, in good faith. It's just aggravating to see that half of them are simply offensive for the sake of being offensive. Because I'd post them if they didn't have nasty terms in them aimed at real living people. I'd have the conversation. Instead, it's nothing but a demotivation campaign that drains me of my desire to interact with the wider fandom or post my own ideas anywhere. But I suppose you're right. No matter what I do, how hard I try to fit myself to one opinion or another, some people will still never be happy about it. The sooner I make my peace with it, the better. Maybe one day it will be easier to do. Maybe one day I'll get there on my own.

Regardless, thank you for all of this.

[hochsleep]

Post for introductions and important information!

Series Masterlist

Hi, cuties!

My name is Hochsleep and here I write stuff about Daryl Dixon (my favorite man ever)

Basically I'm just learning how to use this site, so I apologize for my mistakes and errors, I'm a newbie;)

I'll tell you a little bit about myself before we discuss some important things about my art and this account!

• Hochsleep ("hoch" is a form of a word in my native language that translates to "want", sleep you know what it means. I am a Hochsleep because I always want to sleep😴)

• I'm 20 so I can read and write all sorts of vulgarity and am more used to twd content with violence (which I actually hate, I'm a pacifist and don't accept violence anywhere but movies, TV shows and games)

BUT if you are under the age of 18 you really should leave this profile and only come back when you are of legal age!

• she/her

• Autistic moment (just for further understanding and to resolve possible questions about my writing)

• Journalism student at university (I'm close to a nervous breakdown🙂)

• I'm a big fan of twd and Daryl Dixon (obviously, yes) so you and I here will enjoy the company of this wonderful man (yes, I only like fictional men, no other way)

• I'm really just learning how to use Tumblr (it's important for me to say that again) and I really admire the design of other accounts, so hopefully I'll grow in that my profile will get better and more comfortable for us us!

Well, I don't have much more to say at this point. I mean, I'm just an ordinary young girl with no personal life and dreaming of a fictional man from the show, what else is there to tell? But maybe I'll update this post later if you're interested and I feel like sharing;)

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

Now important information regarding this profile and my work!

• I plan to write mostly for female readers with a female anatomy, as it's closer and easier for me. But I don't mind the prospect of gender-neutral and male readers in the future!

• I'm currently writing a big paper on ao3 (the link will be below, as well as all the other necessary links, leaf to the end of the post to get it!)

• But I have to warn you, I don't plan on writing big pieces for Y/N just yet! My fanfic on ao3 is entirely about my OC, who has a spelled out past, appearance, character, and more (but it's still interesting, I promise)

• But don't worry, all the work here will be all about you, dear readers. In Y/N format without detailed descriptions of appearance or any specific character (that everyone could more or less match themselves with the character). Everything about Y/N will be mostly left to your taste and imagination ;)

• I'll mention again that English is not my first language! I mostly use a translator (with a bias towards American English), so there may be mistakes and inconsistencies. Feel free to correct me in the comments! If I use any phrases from my native language that are unclear due to being translated word-for-word (I mean, every language has such phrases and stable expressions), I will be sure to clarify for you the meaning of the speech abortion I used! I try to improve my English (also with the help of this blog), so I write in a way that the translator and readers can understand me, so I hope you will find it easy and comfortable to read me!

• You can send me your ideas and requests if you would like them written in my hand, I very much welcome this and would be delighted! All copyrights are reserved, I make sure to credit anyone and everyone whose material, including post ideas and queries, I use! It's important we stay ethical here, guys!

• I will try to appear here as often as possible, so hopefully we won't get lost;)

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

Now it's time for the very important part: the rules of use!

• All my work, here and on ao3, is copyrighted!

• You can use my art as inspiration for your pieces, but be sure to tag me!

• If you want to share my art on other venues discuss it with me first! I do not authorize the copying and distribution of my art without my permission!

• I do not give permission to copy and distribute my creations to pass them off as your own without any mention of the real author!

• As for Daryl Dixon and other "The Walking Dead" characters: they are all entirely the property of the creators of the series. I am only responsible for MY OWN vision of the original characters of the series and signing them as part of the fanfiction!

Yes, it's gotten pretty long here, but please understand me. Don't think I'm a nerd, but the intellectual property part of legality is really important to me.

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

Now as for the rules for reading this profile! It's pretty simple here.

• I'm completely open to constructive criticism, it is necessary. Therefore, be sure to write if you consider it necessary to correct me and of course express your opinion!

• But don't forget that your opinion shouldn't include: insults and aggressive forms of expression! No insults towards me, other readers and authors!

• My content may contain detailed descriptions of sexually explicit scenes and violence. IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 DO NOT READ THIS PROFILE!

• No distribution of materials prohibited by law in the comments!

• I don't accept hatred based on sexual orientation, gender identity, race, nationality, etc. here. NO HATE!

Okay, we're finally done 🫠

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

I'm happy to everyone and anyone here! I suggest you to lose yourself in the forest of my fantasies ;)

I will endeavor to provide a comfortable environment for all of us here. This profile is your safe space!

We have a lot of interesting things waiting for us, guys;)

Thanks for sticking around! Enjoy reading!

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

Useful links to other:

ao3:

The darkest night is before the brightest dawn

[silvaswiftcast]

Fluffvember Prompt #9 Guard

Characters: Silva Cataracta and Hien Rijin (Ricmorn Cataracta isn't in this scene, but he is mentioned!)

Rating: General

Notes: This scene takes place sometime between the end of Stormblood Patch 4.1 and the start of Stormblood Patch 4.2. There's also a chance this will appear or be slightly altered for my longfic featuring these three idiots! (If so, there's a chance this scene could happen a little earlier the the patches mentioned here! I haven't figured out that out quite yet!)

I also want to preface this that even though Silva and Hien are NOT in a romantic/intimate relationship at the point in time this scene is taking place, any mentions of flirting and feelings happening between them are completely consensual between all parties. Ricmorn has had private conversations with Silva and Hien about how they feel for one another and is aware of what is taking place and supports it.

Words contained in [brackets] are in another language, in this case, it's Doman.

Content Warnings/Additional Tags: Pre-Polyamory Relationship (V Relationship), Pre-M/F/M Relationship, Mentions of Imperialism, Mentions of Canon Fantasy Violence, Mentions of Alcohol, Domestic Fluff.

Hien didn’t know what to expect to find during his mid-day walk about the Doman Enclave. He had a few bells to kill before his last meeting of the day started — one he was looking forward to for a change. (A group of merchants from Kugane and Radz-at-Han wished to discuss a possible trade deal and open a trade route with the newly freed nation.)

Usually, the young lord would walk around and speak with his people about all manner of things or check in with the restoration efforts taking place all over the Enclave. And if he managed to find enough time, squeeze in a quick, filling meal before rushing off to another meeting.

Except he’d already done those things and still had time on his hands to do as he pleased.

So he took this rare opportunity to self-indulge in something he’d meant to finish.

Hien returned to his room and grabbed a thick, leather-bound tome from a wooden box he kept tucked away and out of sight — for the box and the other books inside didn’t belong to him. They were Silva’s. Her handwritten encounters about the long journey she and Ricmorn had been on since joining the Scions. She lent the journals to him before the Warrior of Light pair returned to Eorzea after freeing Doma.

“While I’m sure you have heard all sorts of rumors about us and the things we’ve done, and gods and kami know you’ll hear even more now, pray know they are heavily embellished!” she wrote in the note she left him inside the box. (A note he still kept.) “You are welcome to read through these when you’re not too busy with your duties. To see the world and the challenges through my eyes. To feel my joy, anger, sorrow, and all the emotions in between. Should you ever have questions for either Ricmorn or me about anything you have read or what we’ve experienced, we would be more than happy to answer them. You may hang on to these journals for a while, so please take your time looking through them. Until then, keep these safe for me.”

He’d kept them safe this entire time, as she asked. These were her private thoughts, after all. He would see to it that they wouldn’t fall into the wrong hands.

Hien spent many late nights over the last several months reading through them, making notes of his own observations. Not to mention a long list of questions to ask the Auri couple when they all found the time for such a thing. But when some questions couldn’t wait for a face-to-face conversation, he wrote them letters — and they were happy to write back to him. Discussions about their travels became even easier when he obtained a linkpearl of his own and access to a private channel with both of them. Even though the time difference between Doma and many parts of Eorzea was great and sometimes made it difficult to find a moment to speak with them over the device, they still made it work. It just wasn’t as often as the letters.

Deep down, he was just happy to grow their friendship — no matter how many malms separated them. To learn more about them and have a better understanding of the hardships they’ve been through.

And when they freed Ala Mhigo from the Garlean Empire and they had some time to rest after the great battle, he could ask the rest of his questions between the celebrations around them. A few late evenings filled with laughter and several glasses of flavorful, smooth Hingan whiskey.

And… the knowledge he could court Silva with Ricmorn’s understanding and blessing after Hien admitted to him the feelings he had for her. Something he didn’t expect to hear from the white mage — ever.

(Or that she and Ricmorn had spoken in private about her feelings for Hien — and she could use whatever time she needed to explore her emotions without worry.)

Now, he was down to the last journal — a bittersweet thing.

A rush of excitement rushed through his veins as he held it close to him, heading towards one of the few hiding spots he claimed for himself outside around the Enclave. They granted him solace and enough privacy, but could easily be accessible to the main pathways, should something arise. He was nearly halfway through the old tome, but that didn’t stop the curiosity buzzing in his mind.

What would he learn today? What questions would he want to ask them the next time all three of them were together? Would he be reading about a joyful moment in time or a sad, gut-wrenching one instead?

Actually… where did he leave off at the last time he had the book open?

Hien was so lost in his thoughts, trying his best to remember the last passage he read before putting the book away over a week ago, that he didn’t see a certain Au Ra slumbering under the great sakura tree — the hiding spot he’d chosen for today. His steps paused once he did, though, hazel eyes wide with surprise as he took in Silva. He carefully knelt before her, remaining as silent as possible.

Strange… When did Silva arrive at the Enclave? Surely, she would have found someone to tell him she was here. Or her uncle or sister would have mentioned it in passing. Or perhaps she didn’t wish to bother anyone about her spontaneous visit.

However, judging by how she softly snored and the dark circles under her closed eyes, the black mage was exhausted.

“Did you also come here to escape from the world and your duties for a little while, [wildflower?]” he whispered, empathy washing over him.

Silva said nothing, of course. She was too busy dreaming away to notice she was no longer alone.

The young lord quietly chuckled as he sat the book down for a moment, his hands reaching for the colorful sashes and obi around his waist. Nimble fingers made quick work of removing them and the dogi he wore. “Don’t worry,” he murmured, slowly covering her with his dogi as a makeshift blanket. “I’ll keep watch until either you wake up, or I return to my duties. Rest away, my dear.”

He would call Ricmorn for her in case she remained sleeping when the time came for him to leave.

Hien silently sat beside her, picking up the journal again and placing it in his lap. He opened the well-worn book and quickly found where he had last left off, getting lost in the swirl of elegant script before him.

And after a few minutes, a quiet noise on his right gained his attention. He looked over at her, watching as Silva stretched in her sleep before settling again, leaning against him for support. His lips twitched into a smile as she hummed, happy and content, dreaming away. The sight made his heart flutter against his ribs.

The two Domans sat together in welcomed peace and silence, lost in their own world, one reading grand tales of adventure and the other resting before duty called for them.

[binniesthighs]

cherry knot | reader x ryujin

a/n: you may be thinking to yourself, ro! a gg fic?? how unlike you!! well, boy do i have news for you 😂 truthfully, i’ve always been toying with the idea of writing a lil somethin’ (esp for ryujin god i love her) so i thought why not! if this isn’t your cup of tea, that’s totally okay <3 those who do read, thank you so much for reading and i hope that ya like it hehe and let me know what you think of it! :D (thank you @dom--minnie​ for enabling me too ;) 

cherry knot | reader x ryujin 

🍒 Pairing: self insert, female reader x shin ryujin 

🍒 Genre: fluff n’ a lil bit suggestive 

🍒 Tags: friends to lovers, high school au (everyone depicted is 18+), all girls school au, high school crush!ryujin, shy!reader, confession of feelings, that good, good makin’ out, ryujin being flirty and smug as hell bc i love her, yeah this is just me gushing about shin ryujin, ro trying new things on the blog :) 

🍒 Word count: 2.9k 

🍒 CWs: mentions of food and eating reader included

The grass felt sticky and uncomfortable under your crossed legs, and when you swiped your hand against the skin, you could feel the indentation from the blades. Your knee-high socks felt itchy too; everything felt itchy. Even the cotton of your shirt felt like it was suffocating, and the bow tied around your neck which hung loosely should have hung even looser. 

To distract yourself, you plucked up the blades of green and tied them into knots absentmindedly. It was easier to pay attention to your idle hands compared to paying attention to her. 

Could she even tell that you were looking? Could she see out of the corner of her eye when she threw her cotton-candy pink hair behind her ear? Could she tell that you watched as she gulped down the lemonade and caught a glance at the peachy fuzz of her neck exposed by her collar? 

Stop looking. Stop looking. 

Your other friends tied up their hair in clips and with lazy hair ties to free their sweating necks from the sun. No matter the sweltering heat, it was always tradition for your picnic just before the summer vacation. One of them had brought a cake and each of the girls attacked it viciously with small forks and smeared bits of frosting on each other’s noses. 

“Come here!! You’re next!!” They beamed while launching themselves in your direction to dot your nose with the white cream. 

A flurry of high pitched giggles peeled out from each of you once another frosting victim had been dubbed. Your cheeks felt furiously hot knowing that she was looking; and that she was laughing along with the rest of them. 

“Awwww cute.” She adored with a smile that turned her dimples into whiskers on her cheeks. 

You quickly wiped it off with a handkerchief that settled into your damp hand.  

She’s looking, she’s looking…

The other girls pranced around the checkered picnic blanket in their white socks--undoubtedly painting them with green that their mothers would scold them for later. Their careless steps made a mess of the food wrappers and canvas backpacks that held down the corners of the thin fabric. The joyous cheers of the girls seemed to harmonize with the song of the cicadas in the trees; both sounds reminded you of the coming of the summer and the humid weather that makes the air dense. 

One of the girls brought out her phone and played loudly from it one of her favorite songs which she knew every word too, regardless of the fact that her tone was far from the singer’s. 

You and your friends never cared much for how others would view you. Even at school when you would march through the hallways arm-and-arm, others would stare at the way that none of you batted an eye at those who would glare. 

They were just jealous was all. 

“Be careful!!” You found yourself scolding, “What if you fall running around like that?” 

In response, your friends promptly stuck out their tongues in your general direction. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Ryujin coolly popped another cherry into her mouth from the bowl by her crossed legs. “If they fall, let them! It's funnier that way.” 

She threw a wink right at you, which you almost didn’t catch because you had quickly averted your eyes to become much more interested in the tiny tea-cakes. 

“You’re always worrying Y/n! Its summer!”

“I-I do not.” 

Ryujin chuckled in that way that always made you feel like your heart was just about ready to leap out of your chest. 

“Lighten up! Come on!” 

Before you could process it all, your friend patted down the wrinkles in her skirt and threw off her shoes. She rose, and neared your corner of the blanket with hands outstretched. 

“Stop worrying about things or if people are watching!” She scolded you with a cute and tiny pout, “Get up!” Ryujin wriggled her hands with emphasis to show you that you could take hold of them. 

“W-what…?” 

The other girls giggled on, hardly even noticing the two of you over their singing. 

You grabbed onto her hands, already loathing how damp your own felt against hers out of your own nervousness. She still held onto you tightly, saying nothing of them and helped you to your feet. Immediately she brightened once you played along and started to swing your arms in tune with the song. Your friend lip synced to the rap part and you felt just about ready to swoon from how cool she looked saying the words with ease. 

“Dance with me!! Don’t pay attention to people walking by or anything like that!” 

Ryunjin led you by the hand to the patch of grass with little white and pink flowers laced into it. You really did try to pay attention to dancing, but everything else seemed to be distracting even when you tried hard enough. She brought your hand up higher to spin her, and when she twisted, everything seemed to happen in slow motion: the billow of her plaid shirt, her rosy-pink hair which swiped just at her shoulders, even the way that the sunset melted behind her into swirls of sunburst yellow and vibrant orange. It was like she was all a part of it. 

“Your turn!” She said, twisting you too. 

You didn’t realize that you would have been as dizzied by it as you were, but when you lost your footing, she was just as quick to help you with her hands carefully grasped onto your shoulders. 

“You okay?” Ryujin asked, out of breath, but still genuine. 

“I’m fine!” 

Your knees wobbled with barely any strength to them, but you mustered every bit of confidence that you had to keep being this close to her. You surprised yourself when you reached back for her hands to continue swinging them between you. 

The other girls collapsed back onto the blanket in a pile of shallow exhales and airy laughs that they exchanged between them. 

“No more dancing, I-I can’t do any more…” One of them announced while leaning against the shoulder of another one of your friends. 

“I forgot! I brought this!!” One of your friends with pigtail braids dove deeply into her backpack and pulled out nearly all of the contents before finding the small cube-case which was decorated with an obscene amount of keychains. “My camera! We have to take some pictures so that we can remember this!” 

The other girls squealed in agreement and ganged up on her to fit into the frame of the white Polaroid camera that she had also splattered with stickers. 

“Here, I wanna show you something.” Ryujin drew your attention back to the blanket where she settled back down with her own bag draped over her legs. 

“What is it?” 

“Ryujinnie! I wanna take your picture too! Your pink hair is so pretty…” One of your friends cooed with a sad downturn to her lips, “I hope that you never change it.” 

“Hmm, I don’t know. We’ll see. My cousin has been saying that she wants to see what I would look like blonde these days.” 

The small talk didn’t concern you too much, you were more concerned with what it was that your friend had to show you. 

“I’m going on a trip with my cousins soon so we’ll see what happens.” 

Your friend sighed, and skipped over the mess of the blanket to pull Ryujin by the wrist to the walkway a little farther off. “You’d look so cute over here!” 

She pardoned her, and stumbled after the eager girl to let her take a Polaroid of her. Even from far away, you could still hear the two of them admire the picture with happy little expressions of “ah! I told you that it would look good!” 

The two girls returned, and you began to worry if your friend even remembered what she had said in the first place. 

What is it? What does she want to show me? 

“Shoot!!” Another one of your friends huffed out while looking at her phone, “I forgot that I have to tutor the middle schoolers today!! I’m late!!” 

The girls went to action in a mere matter of seconds sweeping up the picnic assortment and shoving the leftovers into their backpacks. 

You helped them and tried to look over to your other friend who didn’t return your glances. Perhaps she really had forgotten. 

You let your imagination run wild for just a few moments, although the more that you did, the more it all just seemed preposterous. Maybe it was a confession letter, maybe she had written for you one of those poems like she had liked to do, maybe she had rather wanted to talk to you about something...say something that you wanted to say back…

“I’m going to stick around.” Ryunjin said suddenly with her hands on her hips. “Y/n, you’re welcome to stay too if you want. We don’t exactly have to go home yet since the sun’s still up.” 

Your friends looked to you for your answer, to which you stammered out an, “O-okay…” The best that you could. 

“See you later!!” They called after with their shoes only half-slid onto their feet. 

You waved them off, but the farther that they walked away, the more the realization started to hit you that you were alone with her. The sound of your heartbeat echoed in your ears, and you calmed it trying to think about anything else but the fact that now her attention was truly undivided upon you. 

“You said that you wanted to show me something?” 

Your friend nodded, and patted the grass beside her for you to join her. She gathered up the small bundle of cherries left behind and positioned them into her lap. 

“I learned this trick a little bit ago and I wanted to show you!” 

“A trick?” 

She nodded, and plucked from one of the crimson berries a stem which she put directly into her mouth. 

“What are you doing?!” On the surface, it didn’t seem like the most sanitary thing to do. 

Ryunjin stifled a laugh and lightly hit you on the arm to chastise you. “Just wait a minute!” 

You watched in your confusion as her face contorted a little, and her eyebrows twisted like she was thinking. Her cheeks puffed a little too, and you could tell that she was doing something with it in her mouth--it was only then when you realized that you had been intensely observing her mouth. 

In your embarrassment you threw your eyes in the other direction, but it was no use one you heard her start to giggle at how flustered you had become. 

“It’s okay, you’re supposed to look.” She assured you. 

“What-what is it?” 

“Annnnd done!” Your friend proclaimed proudly and you struggled to meet her again without feeling like your whole face and the tips of your ears were burning up. 

Right on the pink of her tongue she had tied the stem into a tiny knot which she displayed proudly. 

“You...did that with your tongue?” 

“Mm-hm!” 

Your hands reduced back to their clammy state, and they found the grass between your own folded legs to find something to do. 

“That's...that’s pretty cool…” 

“I know right?!” 

Back came your friend's little dimples, and this time your chest started to feel like it was swelling with heat. 

Stop looking, stop looking…

“I can teach you how to do it some day if you’d like.” Ryujin’s tone dropped lower, and more serious in the way that some had thought to be intimidating. To you, there was nothing more that could make you feel the beat of your own heart more obviously. 

“Teach me? How??” 

The question felt like a butterfly in your lips, fluttering and ticklish, light and uncertain. You met her eyes the best you could; even though you knew that there was nothing about her that you didn’t already know, or that was threatening. 

Your friend tilted her head, inspecting you and the way that you could barely keep your glance away from her lips--stained just a little red from the cherries--then smiled. 

“W-what? What is it? Why are you smiling?” 

She sighed, and craned forward on one of her hands in the grass, bridging the distance between the two of you to caress down the side of your face, all the way to your jaw with the back of her fingers. 

“You’re just too cute.” 

“Hm?” Your chest threw itself up and down, and you could thinly feel the breath that tried to fill your lungs when she was this close. 

“I just can’t handle it any more.” 

“Me?” 

Ryunjin nodded, softening her eyes until they were nearly closed, and rid the two of you of all space, leaning over just so you could feel the weight of her chest nearly pressing into yours. At first, she placed the lightest of kisses into you, so light that it barely brushed against your lips, but merely imprinted upon them. She leaned back, leaving you with the ghost of a feeling of her upon you. It felt a bit unfair how fleeting it was, and how she looked at you like that: smug as ever, but as blissful as she always was. 

Your breaths tried to make sense of it all, if it had just happened, and what to think of it. As quick as it was, all you could want was to feel it again. 

“Ryu--” 

She cradled both sides of your face in hers, leaning in with more fervor and parting your lips with hers, leaving you to squeak from the sudden movement. You couldn’t figure out how to kiss back at first, or if you should hold her too. Your head felt like it was spinning in circles from your disbelief when you could taste the tiny tang of the sweet and sour cherries which lingered on her lips. She rubbed her thumbs into your cheeks, and angled you better to let her growing smile paint your own mouth from corner to corner. 

At last, you were able to find a rhythm which suited you, and you kissed her right back. She giggled at your stroke of confidence and the vibrations made your whole body tingle. Your feet had surely fallen asleep where you had folded them beside you, but the numb feeling of them dissolved once her hands fell to your shoulder where she held to you tightly. The pressure from the tips of her fingers made you shiver, and you too smoothed down the pink shine of her hair. 

The warm and ticklish feeling of her tongue grazed your lower lip where she changed her approach and deepened her kiss. The heat of tongues finally met in the middle testing and learning more of the other the closer that you became, and tiny airy gasps got stuck between both of your curiosity. In your lap, her hands found yours and they laced together and held tight; each digit wrapping the other and becoming one with the eagerness of her thumb rubbing little circles into the squishy parts of your hand. 

After the heat of your passion started to melt, you found yourself hiding your giddy laughter the best you could once she started to peck at your lips over and over until you felt like she had kissed you so close to the brim that you would overflow. 

“I said that you’re cute and I mean it!” She snuck the phrase in between a couple more kisses, eliciting you to fold up in your giddy embarrassment from the compliment. 

Ryunjin pulled away, and popped another cherry into her mouth from the bundle, then threw her arms around your shoulders. You simply let your hands rest in her lap covered by the plaid of her skirt; shaking from the release of the endorphins and the adrenaline. 

“Ryujin...I wanted to tell you that I’ve had a crush on you for a...really long time…” You shied, but she brought your chin back to look at her directly. 

“Good. Me too.” 

You couldn’t even process the combination of her words for them to make sense. White noise filled your ears, even though it should have been obvious from the way that she had kissed you like that. 

“Oh! Here. I wanted to give this to you too. Something to remember me by.” 

She reached for her bag, and pulled out a white-out pen from the front pocket. The Polaroid had faded into its full color, and she focused with her tongue peeking from her mouth as she wrote the message: 

see you soon <3 

- ryujinnie 

Over her head in the picture, she doodled a few hearts, then she blew on the ink to dry it. 

“For you!” 

You took the picture with your hands still thoroughly shaking, and all you could utter was a “thanks” while you took in your friend looking as gorgeous as she always was. You knew then that you would treasure the image forever, and the day which it was taken. 

“Who knows,” Ryujin started, and let her head fall to your shoulder where she nuzzled in, “This might be the last that you’ll see of my pink hair too.” 

You turned the picture over, already sensing how it made your heart feel like it was aching sticky and sweet, just like the cherries. 

~🌹~

Bunch of (Ro)ses! 

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @lunarskzzz  @yourdaddychan @bubblelixie @spnobsessedmemes @cherrychngkyn @iwanttobangchan @dom--minnie @waterthemoon @pastelracha @mistakensilence @hotgorloikawa @bowlofblueberries @lmhmins @eunaeiekim 

[saricess]

MAULSOKA WEEK 2022

Hello MaulSoka shippers! 

Last year was the first MaulSoka Week and while he had a few submissions, it wasn’t much. However I have seen a rise in shippers and I hope to see more this year. 

One of the problems I believe we had few submissions was because the lack of time everyone had, so I’m giving all the information now  - 2 months early! I will post with any new updates ;)

I’m keeping the prompts we had last year, as to why I have explained above.

Day 1: Tattoo's.

This is of course based on Maul's tattoos and Ahsoka's white markings. Maul's have meaning, and perhaps Ahsoka's do with your own head canons. Of course this isn't inclusive to the Star Wars universe, this could also be a modern AU - say, a tattoo shop AU?

Day 2: Rescue.

This can be from season 7 with Maul and Ahsoka escaping together, time after the Empire or even on Malachor - or even something different! The choice is yours!

Day 3: Mortis.

Ahsoka was bitten by The Son that had her turn dark, and was brought back to life by The Daughter. The Nightsisters honoured The Son and The Daughter, known to them as The Fanged God and The Winged Goddess - and Maul studied the Nightsisters, so he would have come across them. You can go wild with this one as everyone has their own theories on this, especially the one about Ahsoka and Maul becoming the new Daughter and son.

Day 4: Crimson Dawn.

Maul mainly oversees Crimson Dawn after the rise of the Empire, it wouldn't be hard for him to find Ahsoka with all the assets at his hand, and the same goes with Ahsoka finding Maul. Perhaps they have become the new rulers of Crimson Dawn? Ahsoka is prisoner? The possibilities are endless!

Day 5: Mythology

(I'm a Greek Mythology fan so I go ham for this one) Have you ever seen a ship and think "These two are Hades and Persephone"? Well the same is with Maul and Ahsoka! The range this prompts gives is large! But it doesn't have to be Greek Mythology, there are so much more out there, and all are welcome!

Day 6: Dathomir/Shili

The plants where our two lovely characters were born but never really lived on, but they learn from their Masters. You can put this into a different timeline, or even make Ahsoka and Maul the royals of their planet (or country).

Day 7: Role Reverse

Sith! Ahsoka. Jedi! Maul. Older Ahsoka or Younger Maul - you can pick anything you want!

You can make any sort of content from fanart, to fanfics and edits, ANYTHING. The themes as well are completely up to your interpretation as well, do whatever you want, and be creative as possible!.

The dates are 24th April - 30th!

Rules:

Please use the tag #MaulsokaWeek2022 so that I can keep track of everything, send me links so that it's easier to find and no hate. NSFW is allowed, all I ask is that you tag it accordingly, and for all works to have warnings so people can be comfortable.

[alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer]

romeo must die

this one-shot is based on the song Romeo Must Die by Gabrielle Aplin, I highly recommend listening to it! shout out to @eugeniaslongsword for introducing me to it :) i even borrowed some lyrics from it haha. it is also inspired by the entire playlist I made, "being treated badly by someone doesn't make you love them more"

content warnings: past toxic/unhealthy relationship, the uncomfy 6-year age gap between Alastair and Charles

Masterlist | Read on AO3

"Alastair, may I speak to you privately for a moment?"

Alastair looked up from what he was working on. He was in the library of the Institute, along with Cordelia, Thomas, James, Matthew, and Christopher. They were searching for any clue as to how Lucie had done what she’d done or what Tatiana and Belial were planning. Alastair wasn't entirely sure how he got roped into the ordeal, but it seemed as though Thomas suggested him as an extra set of eyes, and Cordelia latched onto the idea.

"No," he said curtly, returning to his reading.

"Excuse me?"

"I said no. I'm quite busy at the moment." Alastair spoke under his breath, not wanting to draw the others' attention. How many times had Charles barked the same words at him, swatting him away, hacking away at paperwork or planning his next step in his career? The words sat bittersweet in his chest.

"Surely you could spare a few moments."

"I certainly could. But I do not wish to." Charles had a way of getting into his head and twisting his words and his feelings. It was not an experience he wished to revisit. It was better here, with an audience. It had also been easier in the infirmary, knowing that he held all of the power. His father had made him feel the same way, he thought bitterly. He understood now that what he'd done at school was not only to protect himself from the bullies. He wanted to reclaim the power stolen from him by his father; he wanted for once in his life to hold power himself. He hadn't yet come to the realization that holding that kind of power did nothing but harm. It was of no use, anyways, because it didn't matter how much he perfected his tongue and his wit on the other students at the Academy, he was never able to use it when it counted. Not with Elias, and not with Charles.

"It's fine if you need to take a few minutes, Alastair,” Cordelia said gently. All of the eyes in the room had come to rest on the two of them. Now he wished he’d spoken louder.

“It’s alright, Charles was just leaving.”

He had hoped that Charles would give up and leave knowing that everyone was watching him, but he was determined. He grabbed Alastair’s arm. “It’ll just be-”

Alastair stood, but pulled his arm away. “Don’t touch me.”

In a flicker, Alastair saw it: the anxiety began to set in. Charles began to realize that he would not be able to play his usual tricks. “Why are you acting like this?”

“I believe I was quite clear when I told you I don’t wish to speak with you. You’re the one who can’t let this go.”

“Must you act so childish?”

He rolled his eyes. “Must you always call me childish for thinking for myself instead of catering to your every whim?”

“I don’t understand. You said we were fine.”

Alastair sighed. Perhaps for a moment, he thought that was true. For just a second, he thought there was a world where he and Charles could be friends. But Alastair had decided that he would no longer call people who hurt him his friends. “Yes, well, I lied. I wanted to let you down gently, but it’s clear to me now that it must be spelled out for you. How shall I put this? You and I are past our dancing days, Charles.”

“But-” He stammered, searching for words. “What happened with Grace Blackthorn wasn’t my fault.”

“Maybe not. But what of Miss Bridgestock? Am I to pretend that what happened with Miss Blackthorn was not the same as what happened two years earlier?”

“You told me many times that you took no issue with that, that you understood.”

“I understood what you told me, which we both know was never the full truth. I was a sixteen year old desperate for your affections, and the fact that you truly believe I never had any issue with your arrangement is proof that you never genuinely cared about me or listened to my thoughts. I told you in the infirmary that this wasn’t your fault because I thought it’d ease the pain, but I lied. And I don’t have time to sit here and watch you cry over it.”

Alastair wished that watching Charles become flustered would have been more enjoyable. Instead, all he wanted was for this to end. “You- you’re different than when we met. You’ve changed. You’re cruel and callous, I don’t understand how I could not see how heartless you were until now. You are everything that everyone claims you to be. How am I to even know what the truth is when it comes from your lips?”

There was a time when those words would have cut deeply into him, eating at his every insecurity, but Charles mistakenly assumed that Alastair was the same person he was last July, with the same insecurities. “When we met, I was fourteen years old. I’ve grown up, and it is time for you to do the same. It’s been six months, Charles. You need to stop writing me. If that makes me heartless, I don’t care. And if you wish to know the truth, the truth is that the moment you leave here, if I never see your face again, it still will not be long enough.”

Charles stared at him for a long while, unable to find a proper retort. In the end, it was Matthew who stepped in. “Charles, I believe it’s time for you to go.”

He obliged, finally turning to leave the library. As he began to walk away, however, Alastair knew that he was not finished. His heart beat a little bit faster at the thought of such a confession, and faster again when he realized who would hear it, but there was no piece of parting with Charles that he wished to regret.

“Wait,” he said. Charles froze and turned to look at him. “I know it’s unlikely that you have it in the cold depths of your soul to care, but let the record show that I would have given you everything. I would have given you my life, all of the love and trust that I had to give, and then I would have given more. And you gave me nothing. So the next time you’re pondering my heartlessness, you ought to wonder what that means for you.”

Finally satisfied, Alastair did not wait for Charles to turn and leave again to return to his seat and pick his reading back up. He waited for a moment, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of everyone’s eyes on him. He stood once more, opening his mouth to speak, but the words were caught in his throat. Instead, he walked out of the library in silence.

Finding the nearest balcony, he attempted to steady his breath.

“Are you alright?” He heard from behind him. Thomas. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

He shook his head. “I just needed some air.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

Alastair sighed. He backed up against the window and slid down to the floor of the balcony. “I know- I know that everyone sort of knew already, but… by the Angel, I feel so pathetic.”

“You’re not pathetic,” Thomas told him, sitting down beside him.

“You were right, of course you were. I was so… taken with him, back in Paris. I couldn’t see him for what he was. I was so naive, so foolish. I just- After everything I’ve seen, everything I’ve been through, how did I not realize-”

Thomas put his hand on Alastair’s knee. “You wanted to see the best in him. After everything you’d seen and been through, you wanted to believe that there were still good and honest people in the world. And there are. I’m sorry that he was not one of them, but that does not make you foolish or pathetic. It makes you… kind.”

“I bet you’d never imagined describing me as such before.”

“It seems you’re full of surprises,” Thomas teased. “But that’s not true. I always saw the kindness in you, even back at school, when you did everything to keep it hidden.”

“As you can see, my ‘kindness’ has never gotten me very far.”

“You were out of practice. Following me on my reckless nighttime patrols, that was kind. More than kind. I don’t think I ever thanked you for that, for risking your life to protect mine.”

“I didn’t do it for gratitude.”

“And yet I owe you mine nonetheless.”

“I can’t go back in there, you know.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can tolerate you and your friends hating me just fine. But if any of your friends give me even an ounce of pity- well, we’ll see just where the limits of my kindness lie, won’t we?”

Thomas stood up, offering Alastair his hand. “Pity comes from those who cannot even begin to understand what you’ve experienced. For what it’s worth, I don’t think my friends will pity you. But if they do, you can ignore them. For Lucie.”

Alastair sighed and allowed Thomas to pull him to his feet. “Fine. Let’s get back to reading.”

“Speaking of reading, do you have the entirety of Shakespeare’s canon memorized, or only the lines you believe may pop up in conversation?”

“Excuse me?”

“‘For you and I are past our dancing days,’ it’s Romeo and Juliet, isn’t it? It’s the only one of his works that I got through.”

Alastair froze. “You haven’t read Hamlet?”

“I tried.”

“Othello? King Lear? Macbeth? Midsummer Night’s Dream?”

He shook his head.

“That’s impossible. And James is friends with you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Wait until my sister finds out you haven’t read Hamlet,” he warned, starting towards the library with urgency in his step.

“Wait, don’t- I just don’t like Shakespeare! What’s so wrong with that?” Thomas’ attempts at reasoning were futile, however, a welcome distraction from all of their recent sorrows finally taking hold.

Thanks for reading!! This was self indulgent af lol. I'm not to sure whether some people only wanted to be tagged in my social media AU, so if that's the case I'm sorry & please tell me!: @stxr-thxif @chaos-and-starlight @lifewouldbebetteronmars @littlx-songbxrd @dianasarrow @eugeniaslongsword @bookswitchcraftandcats @jamesherondaleofficial @thomas-gaypanic-lightwood @livingformyself @anarmorofwords @foxglove-airmid @writeforjordelia @sapphic-in @thecodexsays @fortheloveofthecarstairs @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @shadowrunner2000 @thewarthatsavedmylife @fair-childd @icouldnotask @shadowhunting-hooligans @melanielocke @clarys-heosphoros @kiwichaeng @lightwoodsimp @thecrimsonsorceresss @theenchanteddreamer @adams-left-hand @yozinha-z @ipromiseiwillwrite @skirtsandsweaters @goodoldfashionednerd

[melzula]

Refined Taste

pairing: Zuko x Princess!reader

notes: an anon requested some more Iroh and Princess content so I delivered hehe

~ part of the fire lilies series ~

The soft whistle of the boiling tea pot is a welcomed sound that brings you a great sense of peace and comfort as you work in the kitchen of the Jasmine Dragon. Few customers occupy the shop as they sit and chat over cups of tea and mini cakes— a limited time only delicacy curtesy of the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe— and with a lull in the crowd after a very busy day at work, you’re happy to spend your free time chatting away with Iroh.

Today marked the fourth day of Zuko’s much needed slumber, so while you waited for him to wake you spent your time revisiting old friends and places in Ba Sing Se. You said hello to Miss Tai and bought three new dresses to help support her small business, you went out for a pleasant lunch date with Jin, and, something you were admittedly embarrassed about doing, you spent your evenings wistfully gazing out your window in hopes of spotting the Blue Spirit. It was odd being back in the place that held some of your happiest and some of your darkest memories, but you loved it all the same. During the day you made sure to check on Zuko as he slept, and when your presence was no longer needed you made yourself useful by helping Iroh run the Jasmine Dragon.

The events that had occurred in Yu Dao had almost been disastrous, but with the help of Katara and the residents of the colony Aang was finally able to see that Zuko had been right all along. You stayed on the sidelines just as you had told Zuko you would, it wasn’t your place to interfere, but now that things had settled and King Kue was willing to negotiate you would be attending the meeting as a representative for the South and to offer any aid you could. However, such a council could not take place until Zuko awoke, and so you found yourself in the company of Uncle Iroh.

“I don’t even want to imagine what my nephew’s life would be like without your courage and support,” Iroh says over the boiling water. “Thank you again for bringing him to me, y/n. Spirits know he wouldn’t have come on his own, he’s too stubborn.”

“Well, I did have some help from Aang,” you admit with a quiet laugh, “but you don’t need to thank me. I love Zuko, and I’ll always look out for his best interests.”

“So you’ve proven time and time again. He is lucky to have you, you know. Very lucky.”

“Thank you, Uncle,” you smile, gazing down bashfully at the sleeves of your dress. “But Zuko’s also lucky to have you.”

“He is lucky to have both of us. I mean, we are an excellent team,” Iroh says with a wink. Your shared laughter quiets at the sound of careful footsteps making their way into the room, and you feel your heart swell with love and adoration at the sight of a sleepy Zuko standing in the kitchen doorway.

“Well, look who finally decided to wake up!”

“Hi sleepyhead,” you say with a smile, rising from your seat to meet him halfway. Zuko is grateful for your touch as you rest a hand upon his cheek and press your lips against his own in a delicate kiss. You taste of honey and ginger, your intoxicating scent of fire lilies invading his senses, and though Zuko wishes he could kiss you with fervency, he settles for one last lingering kiss before finally parting from you; making out in front of his Uncle is something he’d rather not do, so he composes himself.

“How are you feeling?” Iroh asks, watching with an amused smile on his face as you and Zuko immediately cling to each other. Your arms wind around one another and hold each other close, and the love you share is enough to warm the old man’s heart. Yes, Zuko is in very good hands.

“Better,” Zuko notes faintly, “but tired.”

“I’ll make you a nice cup of green tea to wake you up a bit,” the man says as he immediately gets to work.

“Let’s go sit down,” you suggest, taking Zuko’s hand and guiding him towards one of the empty tables in the shop. He seats himself with a yawn and smiles gratefully as you take off your warm shawl and drape it over his shoulders before pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. “Hungry? There’s still some mini cakes left over.”

“Are there any strawberry cakes?” He asks with a meek smile.

“But of course! What kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t make my boyfriend his favorite kind of mini cakes? I’ll be right back.”

“Thank you,” Zuko calls after your retreating form, hearts in his eyes as he watches you disappear behind the curtains. Would it be selfish of him to ask you to be his Fire Lady right now?

Iroh leaves the kitchen with a pot of tea just as you walk in to fetch Zuko his cake. You make sure to grab the one with the most strawberries and extra frosting, the way he likes it, and set it neatly onto a plate before returning to your beloved. Aang is now seated across from him, and so you say nothing as you place his food before him and sit down beside Zuko.

“—Since Roku’s my past life, in a way you’re my family, Zuko. And no matter how hard I’ve tried, I’ve never been able to detach myself from those sorts of bonds,” Aang laments. “It’s a flaw, I know, but it’s one I’ve decided to accept, for this life at least.”

“You’re not the one who’s flawed, Aang,” Zuko sighs. “Why can’t the struggle get easier for me? Even just a little? Sometimes I wonder how long I’ll last.”

He doesn’t meet your gaze when the confession leave his lips, but the way in which Zuko reaches over and tightly grabs hold of your hand is enough. Your heart breaks at his words and you desperately wish you could ease his pain and worries, but you know that being here by his side is enough for now. And you’ll be by his side whenever he needs you to be.

“You know, in that dream, a woman stood with us on that mountaintop watching from the shadows. I think she was my mother...”

“Sometimes, dreams are the way a person’s spirit reveals the answer to his own problems,” Iroh notes wisely. Then, with a humorous smile on his face, “but, then again, sometimes they are just the result of eating spicy food before going to bed.”

“Maybe finding my mother would connect me to a part of my heritage that isn’t so murky and confusing,” Zuko notes thoughtfully. “Maybe then I’d finally find peace. I’ve never told anyone this, but right after I became Fire Lord I sent out search party after search party looking for her. I even hired June and her shirshu. They all came back empty handed. What can I do now that I haven already tried?”

“It’s a new world, Zuko. You need to take some new risks,” Aang says wisely.

“We all do,” you agree, your mind already beginning to drift elsewhere as you calculate how long you can stay away from home without being missed too much.

“Speaking of risks,” Iroh cuts in with a smile as he presents three glass of odd looking to your trio, “why don’t you all try this brand-new beverage I invented?”

“What is it?” You ask curiously, taking the glass Zuko hands to you and swirling the odd looking balls at the bottom of it with your straw.

“Well first, I cook tapioca balls until they’re soft and tender. Then I put them in the tea, where they sit like little pearl-sized snacks at the bottom of each cup! Add a little milk and— ta-da!— a revolution in tea is born!”

Zuko and Aang share uneasy glances with each other before slowly taking sips from their glasses only to immediately cringe the moment the tapioca balls hit their their tongues.

“What is that trying to sneak into my mouth?!” Zuko exclaims after promptly spitting out the pearls.

“Wow,” Aang chuckles nervously, “I’ve never had tea that’s quite so... chewy.”

“It seems I am a man ahead of my time,” Iroh says sadly, his eyes casted downward to the floor. However, the noisy sound of a straw directs all attention towards the smiling Princess and interrupts his bout of sadness. Oblivious to the gazes of your friends set upon you, you happily suck the last of your tea from the glass until it’s completely empty. It’s only once your drink is gone do you finally notice the strange looks sent your way by Zuko and Aang.

“What?” You retort with furrowed brows. “It’s really good.”

“Finally, someone with taste!” Iroh exclaims happily at your praise. “It appears I am a revolutionary after all.”

“You actually like that stuff?” Zuko says flabbergasted.

“It’s just tea, but different,” you shrug, grinning when Zuko hands you his leftover drink to finish for him. “However, the only thing I would add is some ice. It tastes better cold.”

“Genius!” The tea maker compliments, watching in awe as you bend ice cubes of your own to plop into the glass. “Y/n, you must come to the Jasmine Dragon more often, I could use your refined taste.”

“‘Refined’ is a strong word,” Zuko murmurs only for you to elbow his side. “Ow! What did I say?”

“I’d be happy to, Uncle,” you say with a sweet smile.

“I think I know who the new favorite is,” Aang jokes only for Zuko to roll his eyes. However, he can’t help the smile that grows on his face as he watches you and his Uncle interact together. It was safe to say you hadn’t made a good impression on his sister or his father, but the only thing Zuko really cared about was his Uncle, and from what he could see the two of you were like peas in a pod. Faintly, Zuko wondered if you would be the same way with his mother.

“What are you thinking about?” You whisper to the Fire Lord, immediately taking notice of his far off look.

“About you,” Zuko admits to your surprise, “and how much I love you. And how I’m really glad you’re here.”

Heat spreads its way across your face and you smile bashfully at his profession, resting your head upon his shoulder as you converse with Aang. Though Zuko hates to keep you away from home longer than you need to be, he knows he’ll need your help with something else. But before he can ask you, there’s one person he still needs to see before he can begin his next journey.

He needs to talk to Azula.

| tags: @rainteslerrrr @simpinforsukka @sirkekselord @protect-remus @oddment-niwit-blubber-tweak @thebluelcdy @royahllty @the-firebender-girl @coldlilheart @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @knaite-solo @draqondance @taeeemin @user12345321 @just--artemis--with--ghost @titaniafire @dekahg @emberislandplayers @kikaninchen-2 @lozzybowe @izzieserra @melacholy @music-geek19 @thia-aep @thyunnamed @haylaansmi @nataliahaslosthershit @idkdude776 @aangsupremacy @thirstyforsometea @ihaveaproblem98 @brown-eyed-thang @djskfkdkkf @xapham @yeetletzgetitjae @misnmatchedsox @chewymoustachio @that-bucket-hat-gal @chilifrylizard2 @kyomihann @kaylove12 @kiwihoee @freggietale @neighborhoodpansexualdisaster @noodlesfluffy @moon-spirit-yue @bubblegum-bee-otch

[jayeray-hq]

How He Shows You Affection: Ushijima Wakatoshi

This is a another repost to get this one to show up in the tags! Thank you to everyone who found it through the masterlist! You all are amazing! Notes: 72

Post Time Skip/Manga Ending Spoilers!

Warnings: None all fluff!

How He Shows You Affection Masterlist - Character Masterlist

He Does Little Things to Make Life Easier for You

            You woke up feeling a bit groggy, unsure just how or when exactly you’d fallen asleep. However, once you’d gotten your bearings a bit you quietly cursed yourself for allowing to happen, glancing at your phone and wincing as you registered what time it was. You’d had a lot to get done today and now more than half the day was gone. You’d only meant to sit down for a second and rest your eyes as you waited for the dishwasher to finish, but you must’ve accidentally dozed off.

In hindsight it probably wasn’t that surprising you’d fallen asleep. It had been a really long week at work, you’d been putting in extra hours, and had come home almost every night exhausted. It meant you’d been putting off your chores, all of which you’d meant to do today, on your only day off. The laundry in particular had been incredibly important as your clean clothes situation had become rather dire, but you’d fallen asleep before you could get to it.

            Even worse you’d wanted to get it done early because your boyfriend was going to be home later, and you desperately wanted to be able to spend your evening relaxing with him. Unfortunately, it looked like that wasn’t going to be happening now.

            Heaving a sigh, you stood, figuring there was no use crying over spilled milk, and that you might as well get to work. Especially if you wanted to have that nice dinner done you’d planned for when Ushijima got home. Only to pause in surprise as something fell away from your shoulders.

            You stooped and picked the familiar fabric off the ground, and immediately recognized it as your boyfriend’s Adlers jacket, the same one he’d worn out of the house that morning which meant…

            “Wakatoshi?” you asked curiously, as you cradled the jacket to your chest.

            “I’m here,” the low deep rumble of your boyfriend’s voice was both familiar and incredibly soothing, and you couldn’t help the smile that broke over your face at the sight of him, clearly recently showered, dressed in sweats and a t-shirt.

            “You’re home early,” you told him crossing the room eagerly to wrap your arms around him, burying your face in his strong, warm chest.

            “Coach let us go early,” he explained accepting your embrace with ease and folding you into his arms.

            “Did you have a good practice?” you asked, slowly pulling away from him after taking a few minutes to just soak up his warmth and presence.

            “It was adequate,” he told you, which you assumed meant yes, his eyes fond as his large hands lingered gently on your hips, not letting you pull away entirely just yet.

            “I was just going to start dinner for us,” you informed him with a smile, “Just let me finish up a few things and I’ll get right to it.”

            “Is there anything I can do?” he asked gently.

            “No, no I’ve got this,” you assured him firmly. After all the two of you usually split chores fairly evenly, and he’d already done his, it wouldn’t be fair to ask him to do yours as well.

            However, when you went to check your hamper, all your clothes were gone, and a quick peek showed that there were loads of laundry in both the washer and the dryer, both running. The bathroom was also cleaner than you remembered it being that morning, and the dishwasher had been emptied, the dishes put away.

            Your heart melted as you realized your boyfriend had apparently taken it upon himself to do it for you, and when you returned to the kitchen and found him quietly pulling out some of the things you’d need to make dinner you couldn’t help yourself diving back into his arms.

            “Is everything all right?” he asked, clearly a little concerned.

            “It’s perfect,” you assured him affectionately, feeling like a weight had lifted you’re your shoulders, “Thank you.”

            “You’re welcome,” he told you pressing his cheek to your hair and cradling you close, making you sigh contentedly. You really did have the best boyfriend.

 He Makes Time For You

            Despite your feelings you’d managed to keep your perfect customer service smile pasted to your face throughout the party, nursing a glass of wine you hadn’t even bothered to touch, but held on to, to keep anyone from trying to get you another drink. It had been a rather horrid night, and you definitely didn’t want to be here, especially since, for the first time in a long time you’d had to come alone.

            Normally at these mandatory office parties you at least had your boyfriend with you. Ushijima, with his strong, calm presence and a stoicism and intimidating mien that managed to keep all but the most determined or familiar away from you, was a blessing at times like this. Unfortunately, he’d had a game, which while fairly close by was still over an hour away, and he wouldn’t be back until later that night.

            You honestly missed him dreadfully. Just his reassuring presence always helped to take the edge off your anxiety at times like these. Still he had his job, one that he truly loved with all his being and you’d never want to take him away from it, especially not for something as silly as an office party.

            Still you couldn’t help your grimace as one of your male coworkers, who’d been giving you the eye all night, and who regularly stood just a little too close, and lingered by your desk just a little too long slowly approached you. You braced yourself, fully ready to face the unpleasant conversation and hopefully send him on his way politely.

            However less than a few feet away from you his eyes suddenly darted to something behind you, and he quickly made a beeline around, clearly pretending he’d never been heading in your direction in the first place. You frowned in confusion, but were quickly jolted out of it, by the feeling of a large, warm hand on the small of your back.

            You turned, a frown on your face, ready to tell off whichever jerk dared put his hands on you, that you had a boyfriend and to leave you alone, only to find your boyfriend there looking down at you with a soft look on his face.

            “Wakatoshi?” you asked a little disbelieving, blinking several times to ensure he wasn’t an illusion of some kind, dreamt up by your wishes for his presence, but no he was still there, his hand warm and grounding, “What are you doing here?”

            “I always come to your office parties,” he told you a slightly puzzled frown on his lips.

            “I know,” you assured him an amused smile tugging your lips, “But didn’t you have a game?”

            “It’s finished,” he affirmed, then added unnecessarily, “We won.”

            “I know,” you told him with an amused smile, “I watched what I could of the game before coming. You managed to finish before I had to leave. I sent you a text.”

            “I saw,” he assured you a fond smile tugging slightly at the corners of his mouth, his eyes soft, “Thank you.”

            “You’re welcome,” you told him a bit bemused, “But that still doesn’t explain how you’re here. The game was over an hour away.”

            “I left right after,” he explained casually.

            “Wakatoshi you didn’t have to,” you exclaimed startled, especially since you knew leaving right after meant he’d skipped the victory celebrations with his team and gotten a cab back instead of taking the team bus.

            “I wanted to,” he stated firmly, in a way that left no room for arguments, “I never miss your office parties.”

            The sentiment behind the words honestly made your heart melt. Ushijima wasn’t the best with expressing his feelings verbally, but at times like this, when he even cut his volleyball activities short you could almost palpably feel how much he loved you, to put you over his favorite activity, even if it was only a little bit, it honestly meant the world to you.

            “Thank you for being here,” you told him, figuring there really was no other response, at least none that would be appropriate in this setting, though you made a note to show him how much you appreciated it when you got home.

            “Of course,” he answered firmly, as if there had never been any doubt, as if there was nowhere in the world he’d rather be then right by your side.

 He Buys Little Things That Remind Him of You

            “Oh Ushiwaka whatcha lookin’ at?” Tendou asked curiously peering over his friend’s shoulder so he could see the display that the large former Ace of Shiratorizawa was studying so intently. His lips quirked in amusement as he saw what had captured the stoic man’s attention, a rather adorable display of plush toys

            “Are you expecting?” he asked eagerly.

            “I’m not expecting anything,” Ushijima told him a slight frown on his face, clearly perplexed by the question.

            “No, no, no I mean is your girlfriend expecting?” he tried again shifting eagerly from foot to foot.

            “No, she never expects anything,” his friend and former captain told him completely honestly, his face softening at the mere mention of his beloved who was back home in Japan while he and his team were in France for a game, “But these are very cute.”

            “They are,” Tendou agreed nodding sagely, he never would’ve expected the man to be so sentimental and to think such things about toys like that, but well, you learned something new everyday.

            “She is also very cute,” Ushiwaka murmured more to himself than to Tendou, before nodding firmly and making his way into the store, clearly intent on buying one for his girlfriend, leaving a dumbstruck Tendou behind wondering if he should stop him or not but in the end decided to let the man make his own mistakes.

            Several days later, back in Japan you opened another package from your boyfriend and stared at its contents, more than a little dumbfounded. These little gifts from Ushijima had been arriving nearly every day since he left, nothing too big or expensive, mostly small interesting things that he claimed in his daily chats ‘reminded him of you.’

            However staring at this latest gift you had to wonder if maybe he was trying to send you a message of some sort. After all was there any other reason to have sent you what was admittedly, a rather adorable plush baby toy, with a tag in the ear whose French you’d painstakingly translated into “congratulations it’s a boy!”

            It left you rather dumbfounded, however, luckily you didn’t need to ask more than why he’d bought it for you for him to explain, and you never had to tell him that he’d given you a baby toy of all things. However, the small gift did find its way into your daughter’s crib several years down the line, so it certainly never went to waste.

[your-brilliant-lady-m]

Part 5 - Basic Concepts of Miraculous Ladybug: Guardians

Helloooo! Did you think I was done? No!

My PhD thesis chapters were approved last week, so have some celebratory meta. I haven't seen the latest Season 4 episodes, so do forgive me for not being up to date.

Welcome to the next part of my analysis of the basic concepts of Miraculous Ladybug. Today we are talking about Master Fu, Order of the Guardians and how little everything here makes sense. I highly recommend reading previous parts to fully understand this one, but I'll try to quote most parts of earlier posts.

Order of the Guardians

Order is an international and ancient organisation (New York Special showed us the guardian from North America and he was dressed like Su Han). Presumably, Miraculous jewels were created by these people. Guardians are responsible for the preservation of jewels and knowledge about them. They also distribute Miraculouses to worthy people around the world to combat mostly magical threats, but sometimes jewels are used against normal threats too. It's implied that Master Fu used Miraculouses during WW2 when he was in Paris. Perhaps he performed some spywork with Marianne, but the magical nature of his interferences was discovered and he was forced to flee, before returning to France many decades later.

Why does the Order need so many people to take care of a 3 Miracle Boxes? If its only purpose is to preserve knowledge, keep magical secrets and distribute Miraculous jewels then wouldn't it be more logical to have Master-Apprentice system? It's much easier to keep magic knowledge a secret and train a few people in martial arts than doing the same in the self-sufficient temple full of people, keeping in mind that a good part of them are teenagers and children, who are bad at keeping secrets. Also a single person can travel around the world much easier to give out Miraculouses. Imagine that we have a few active guardians traveling the world with Boxes. What do other people at the temple do in the meantime? They teach the next generation about the powers of each Miraculous and Mirakung Fu, but besides that?

Master-Apprentice system gives us more personal conflict between Fu and his mentor and makes his relationship with Marinette and Adrien more nuanced. In this scenario Fu accidentally caused the death of his Master at 14 because he wasn't careful. It makes sense for him to take on only 1 or 2 students if this is how things were done with Miraculous Guardians. This Wang Fu is very cautious and protective, he spent the majority of his life afraid of hurting someone else and never took an apprentice as a result. But now he is ready to try again, since he is not getting any younger and he likes these 2 kids. He wants them to succeed. Maybe Master Fu, becomes the father figure for Adrien in this situation and a guide for Marinette. Just think about it. This way writers avoid the need to develop all these extra characters (Su Han) and traditions related to the Order. All inconsistencies I mentioned before and later in this post are gone now! Hell, even memory loss and the changing of the Miracle Box shape could make more sense. We also raise the stakes post-amnesia, if it happens of course (the whole Season 3 finale didn't make sense, so stay tuned for my next meta). Marinette and Adrien are on their own now, there's no one who can give them answers. It's very fun scenario, which has potential to be brilliant. Any thoughts on that?

The existence of Order of the Guardians is not quite a secret, at least it wasn't in XIX century China. Master Fu in "Feast" says that guardianship was considered "a great honor". It implies that people who lived close to the temple of the Order knew about Miraculouses and what exactly guardians did for the greater good.

The existence of other Miracle Boxes around the world makes sense from a real-life perspective. Writers have the ability to create many stories set in the same universe and use them for merchandise and an almost unlimited amount of content. Judging by the unholy amount of specials in production, this is exactly what the creators are going to do. It probably won't go down well, but who knows?

However, it doesn't work in our main story. The main conflict is Paris-centred. Gabriel's motivations revolve around Emilie's resurrection and Season 4 gives us more reasons to suspect that Adrien's mom wasn't as wonderful as everyone says. Hawkmoth still remains the main villain of the show and most likely it's going to stay that way. There's no point in moving the main story to different places for the sake of introducing more Miracle Boxes from around the world. Ladybug and Chat Noir aren't needed to fight something halfway across the world unless Hawkmoth also changes locations.

LB and CN are centrepieces of this franchise. They brought success and money to ZAG. Creators constantly need to remind the audience that this new piece of media with new characters who will never be mentioned again is connected to Miraculous Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir. Writers have to come up with reasons to include our heroic duo into the story even if makes no sense.

New York Special had to introduce American Heroes whose names rarely come up in the fandom because people stopped caring about them or their stories shortly after the release of the Special. I barely saw any content dedicated to them. In order to bring LB and CN into the story, you have to include Hawkmoth too. Gabriel suddenly needs to get his hands on the Eagle Miraculous and goes to USA. Marinette and Adrien suddenly have a class trip to New York. Unfortunately, their presence in this story is required only to expand the world of Miraculous and attract fans of the show, so that they could keep an eye on new content related to newly introduced characters.

In the end, it's not their story. Events of the special don't affect main story of the show and the development of the love square is merely an illusion, because Adrien and Marinette are no closer than before. In season 4 LB and CN are growing apart and their test of trust in NY Special doesn't matter. Perhaps, some people don't see it that way and it's their right, but I find it hard to see NYS as a valid contribution to canon. I mean, even people in large portion of the fandom state in the tags on AO3 that "specials are not canon", "specials didn't happen" or "ignores both specials". It speaks volumes about continuity and preferences of your fandom.

Shanghai Special didn't give us more information about the Order, which is located in China, history of Miraculous jewels. We still don't know much about how Gabriel and Emilie found Peacock and Butterfly. Maybe, Marinette's family had connections to Miraculous jewels. Maybe, Adrien does some snooping and discovers research his parents made while Gabriel is away. All of these are relevant to the main story. However, we got something much different in the end.

Marinette chases Adrien across the globe and they make new friends. Fey becomes Ladydragon and now has a direct contact with Marinette through her uncle. Gabriel's desire to get his hands on the Prodigious comes out of nowhere. Apparently, he had been planning this trip for years, presumably even before Adrien was born. It probably happened at the same time as Agrestes found 2 Miraculouses. He bought bracelet-key (which is also a Miraculous apparently, but its Kwami is a Guardian of the Prodigious and they existed separately for a very long time - and let us not dwell on this mess) from some shady mafia boss, who can easily find out just who Gabriel really is (fashion designer billionaire) and use this information to blackmail him. This Special didn't answer important questions, but it gave us a new superhero character.

The real question is whether Miraculous as a project will survive long enough for writers to create content for every minor character they introduced in all specials. This is only a beginning after all.

Miraculous is not a global show and it can't be globalised in a way that makes sense, at least with Ladybug and Chat Noir in the centre of action. Case closed.

Mirakung Fu

I liked the idea of Mirakung Fu introduced in "Furious Fu". It makes sense and things rarely do in this show. Miraculous grants its holder superhuman strength, stamina, endurance and ability to fight. This means that essentially transformed heroes are guided by magic in combat. There's nothing personal in the way Miraculous holders fight. You can predict their moves and learn how to fight this magic guidance, which is what Su Han does.

However, if the holder has any special training, skills or knows any martial art in their civilian life then they become more dangerous opponents during transformation because now their fighting is a mix of magical moves and their personal knowledge, tricks and style. Therefore, Adrien and Kagami as skilful fencers have more chances of winning against someone who knows Mirakung Fu than Marinette, for example.

Memory loss

At the end of season 3, we find out several things:

apparently, now Miracle Box can change appearance to suit its guardian;

when Guardian passes down the Miracle Box to someone else, they lose memories not only about everything related to Miraculous, but also about pretty much everything in their life (Fu doesn't recognise Marianne, instead he experiences the love at first sight)

Master Fu trains Marinette to be the proper holder and next Guardian off-screen. He says that her training as the holder is complete in "Feast" and wants her to become the next Guardian. Fu told her lots of things, and yet, he never mentioned the fact that he would lose his memory after relinquishing the box, nor the fact that Marinette would lose her memory afterwards. She finds out about this from Wayzz after the battle with Miracle Queen and the letter that Master Fu gave her. That's not proper training! How on Earth do you forget to mention this memory loss? How?

Master Fu's amnesia is a convenient plot device that removes him from the narrative almost completely. That's mostly all there is to it. Why? Because it doesn't make sense.

Fu was around 7 or 8 when he started his training. The disaster at the temple happened when he was 14. He stated that his training was never complete, which means that he never passed any magical ritual, never swore an oath or was bound by some kind of spell that made him subjected to the rule of memory loss.

Miracle Boxes belonged to the order, not Fu. Their design reflected their country of origin because these Miraculous were made and kept in China. They were just standing there on the shelves not magically bound to anyone in particular. When Feast attacked, monks just tossed Wang Fu the miracle box and grimoire. No one at the temple lost their memory after Fu took the box with him (Su Han is the proof). Su Han not only remembers Fu and his mistake but everything that happened that fateful day as well. In "Furious Fu" Marinette explains Su Han that Master Fu lost his memory in the very first conversation they have. However, after Ladybug and Chat Noir fight Su Han on the roof and escape with the Miracle Box, the latter searches for Fu and attempts to take his staff from him. In this scene, Su Han acts like Fu knows very well what is going on and who he is.

Su Han should be aware of the memory loss rule as the Celestial Guardian. He remarks on the different shape of the Mother Miracle Box and calls her "incorrect", which means that Su Han should have been able to easily tell that previous Guardian lost his memory and the Miracle Box is now bound to someone else. But he doesn't say anything. Moreover, since Su Han is supposed to know about amnesia, he seemed awfully chill about forcing this 14-year-old girl in front of him to give up the box and her memories. Hell, Chat Noir wasn't on board with this. But we get zero reaction from Su Han.

During the first conversation between Marinette and Su Han, he doesn't ignore what she is trying to say, instead he actively comments on every word. Even if Su Han didn't listen when Marinette told him about Fu's memory loss, than he still should be able to understand that Fu doesn't recognise him, because of common sense and the "incorrect" shape of the box. But nothing of the sort happens. Because writers apparently forgot that "memory loss" is supposed to be known to everyone in the Order. On-screen it looks like Su Han is not aware of the "amnesia rule".

"Furious Fu" makes the concept of memory loss a plothole no matter how you look at it. Just like "Timetagger" and "Chat Blanc", as well as "Kwamibuster" this episode is not consistent within itself. It does not surprise me, however.

Grimoire and Guardian Staffs

Let's talk about the Miraculous Grimoire. Good things first.

There are no illustrations of Miraculouses in camouflage. Kwami can't read its contents, only guardians can. Certain elements are written in riddles as an additional precaution. The book contains only the information people have learned so far, which means that Miraculouses have more unexplored potential ("Mr. Pigeon 72"). It describes powers of each Miraculous, provides information about weapons, has instructions for potions that don't make sense (see previous parts).

Unfortunately, everything is about to go downhill from here.

Guardians are taught how to read the writing in this book. They can read it just like people learn to read texts in a different language. This means that one can read Grimoire like any other book (you don't need to consult some guide to decode each letter or word). Master Fu proclaimed Marinette an almost fully trained Guardian. He should have taught her how to read the Grimoire then (he doesn't know the code very well, but he knew enough to understand the general meaning and content of the book according to "Collector"). He didn't. We don't know why. He shows her powers of every Miraculous but doesn't teach her the code.

Master Fu knows that Grimoire now belongs to Gabriel Agreste. He knows that it's dangerous for someone else to have it. If they knew how to read the Grimoire, they could discover all secrets of Miraculouses and harm Ladybug, Chat Noir and other heroes. It's very important to keep the information about the code top secret because Fu is not the only one with the source material.

What does he do then? Master Fu proceeds to write a French translation of Grimoire for Marinette, a translation that he doesn't even need. He carries it with him at all times on a tablet (without any precautions) just like the Miracle box after "Feast". Naturally, it means that in "Miracle Queen", Gabriel and Nathalie easily managed to get their hands on the tablet and Miracle Box. It allows the plot to happen, sure. But it doesn't make any sense.

"Furious Fu" created another curious plot hole. It will probably be ignored, of course. Su Han has a staff with a magical compass that allows him to find any Miracle box, but not the Miraculous jewels for some reason. How does the staff work? Can it locate the box without the Miraculous? If yes, then it seems useless. What's the point in the ability to locate an empty box? If it can locate the box only with the Miraculous jewels inside, it implies that the staff can track the location of every Miraculous too. So, Su Han could just locate the Butterfly and Peacock without any problem. But he talks about reassigning Ladybug and Black Cat to adults and defeating Hawkmoth like locating the Butterfly is not possible. This situation makes the Guardian Staff a simple plot device that creates plot holes and its only purpose is to explain how Su Han found Marinette.

Also, I have a few more words to say about this. Master Fu had a Guardian Staff that was never mentioned before. I wonder why? That's because the staff didn't exist before "Furious Fu" was written. Writers just went: "Do you know what would be cool? If Fu's cane was really a secret Guardian Staff with a compass all along that he decided to keep even after he lost his memory? It would make people wonder whether Master Fu is faking amnesia, and everyone will definitely call him an awful mentor after this even though we kind of tried to make him a good and responsible person."

Fu didn't give it to Marinette and didn't mention it to her. Why? When he gave up his memory, he should have written about this in his letter at least. Why did he decide to keep it? He can't use it anyway now.

Please note how in the flashbacks Fu didn't take any staff with him when he escaped the temple. Su Han seemed to know how Fu's staff looked like. It means that Master Fu didn't make this staff himself, because it belonged to the Order.

Su Han wasn't even surprised that Marinette didn't have the staff as the current Guardian. Was she not supposed to have it? He never questioned the fact that the former Guardian without memories has the staff. Su Han actually returns this staff to Fu after he is deakumatized and Fu acts like they have never met before. Why did Su Han gave the staff back when he knows what it is and to whom it should belong (to him or to Marinette as the current Guardian)? The staff is useless in the hands of the civilian. Does Marianne know about its secret? We'll probably never find out, unfortunately.

Guardian Staff of Master Fu has a compass too and therefore this also makes it a plot device, just like Su Han's staff.

[imo-chan-imagines]

『 As your boyfriend | FKBU Headcanons 』

Characters: female!reader, Kambe Daisuke, Kato Haru

Tags/warnings: Fugou Keiji Balance: Unlimited (anime), 18+, strong sexual references, fluff, angst, Haru's PTSD, headcanons, daddy kink and cockwarming (kind of?) for Daisuke, breeding kink for Haru *coughing intensifies*

⚠️ 18+ CONTENT! MINORS: PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT ⚠️

A/N: Felt like writing some more for these boys because ~holy shit~ do I love them, and I maybe went a teensy bit overboard. Oopsie! 🤭 But anyway, have y'all seen episode 6?! Let's freaking gooo! (No spoilers, don't worry) Thanks for reading! Enjoy! Imo~

Kambe Daisuke

First up: daddy kink. I know it, you know it, we all know it. So let's not beat about the bush

Quite dominant and firm with you (see: daddy kink)

But he absolutely loves spoiling you

Expensive gifts, like one-of-a-kind necklaces, seductive perfumes, satin dresses, lace underwear, etc.

He loves dressing you up and showing you off

But he also loves spoiling you in bed more like ruining, I am deceased

A lot of butt grabbing in public hnng

He likes it when you don't wear any underwear because it makes for easier quickies like bent over the sink in the bathroom at his favourite club

He likes you sitting on his lap in front of people, too aye papi

American gangster vibes, honestly

He's not really one for soppy, romantic PDA, but he loves you letting people know that it's him you want and nobody else

He loves the look on people's faces when you call him 'daddy' that grin will be the death of me

Especially the look on Haru's face, lmao. He blushed like a tomato and couldn't speak a coherent sentence for a whole hour

Hickeys. Lots and lots of hickeys. And don't even think about covering them up

Daisuke loves sleeping naked and has a habit of walking around the house in just a towel when he gets out the shower fight me

He's also completely oblivious to what it does to you

A MASSIVE bed with super soft, satiny sheets. They feel like clouds uwu

He gets HEUSC to remind him of important dates, like birthdays, anniversaries, etc.

Date Ideas: Unlimited sorry, not sorry

From fancy restaurants, to exclusive movie premieres, to late night helicopter rides to the other side of the country, Daisuke can and will pay for anything if it makes you happy

He also lets you introduce him to lots of new things, like trying different kinds of street food on dates, going rowing on the pond in the park, having a go at karaoke, renting bikes and cycling round the city, going hiking at the nearest nature reserve or wilderness, etc. adorable

He's like a curious kitten when he's trying new things, putting a lot of trust in you to guide him through it

He always looks perfect in the photos you snap, even the ones he wasn't aware you were taking, and it's a lowkey frustrating that he nearly always looks prettier than you

But it's not his fault, so you'll only pout for a little while

His face is pretty hard to read most of the time, but you eventually get used to it and pick up on all his little mood indicators

His ears move when he's happy, and you can't convince me otherwise

He'll hold your heels for you when your feet hurt on a night out

He smells of leather and sandalwood, and his kisses taste of expensive whisky and cigars

He loves it when you bite his lower lip while making out

He's kind of possessive, but in a protective way

He never thought of himself as a particularly jealous person, until one night he came back to the bar and saw some other guy hitting on you the attention was definitely unwanted on your side

It made his blood boil – clenched fists, piercing glare if looks could kill

But he managed to stay calm and maturely tell the guy to get lost, with his arm snaking round your waist

Daisuke made it very clear that it wasn't you he didn't trust. It was that he didn't trust that guy – or any guy, for that matter

His favourite ~position~ is on a table or other surface with your legs over his shoulders

He's a god at eating you out

He's a god at everything in the bedroom, tbh

Saint Laurent condoms, because he's that fucking extra I'm screaming

His hair always falls out of place when you're fucking it's so hot and cute, wtf

It's a lot of glitz and glamour on the surface, but when it's just the two of you, you know just how much you mean to him

The King of Aftercare™

He used to suck at aftercare until he properly tried it. Then he realised that he needed it as much as you did le cry

Back rubs, forehead kisses, playing with your hair, soft whispers in your ear

He holds you so tightly that it gets hard to breathe, and you can feel his heart beating hard against your back

Sometimes he likes to just stay inside you after finishing

He enjoys the feeling of you around him, and honestly, you like just feeling him being inside you cockwarming, kind of?

Soft little nuzzles with his nose in his sleep even better when he's fallen asleep while still inside you

He's not perfect, but being with you makes him try to be better

Help, my heart's so full 🤧

Kato Haru

This man is a sweetie pie, honestly

Not just boyfriend material, but husband material put a ring on it, hun

Lots of home cooking, and it all tastes so good you honestly believe he could just quit being a cop and open up a restaurant

He loves cooking with you, too. It's fun bonding time

Sometimes he stands behind you and guides your hands etc. it sometimes goes a little further, if ya know what I'm saying 👀

Knows how to do all the chores and housework, and actually does his share look at my practical hubby

Random pillow fights that turn into cuddle sessions

He talks in his sleep waaahh, so cute

Sometimes it's utter nonsense, like 'Don't let the donuts escape'

Other times, it's things like, 'I love Y/N so much,' or 'Let's have babies,' while he's holding onto you, and you just melt

Spooning. So much spooning

Lots of budget date ideas, like building pillow forts, watching sunsets and stargazing from the balcony, going for hikes and runs together, going for picnics, feeding ducks at the pond, etc.

One time, a duck chased him around the pond because he had the bread, and he had to run for 20 minutes before it gave up thank God for all that cardio

The Master of Flat Pack Furniture™ – because he takes his time and actually reads the instructions

Daisuke had a ™ so Haru needed one too

Takes good care of you on your period and actually knows about different sanitary products

He smells really fresh and clean, like Imperial Leather soap and air-dried laundry as long as he hasn't been on a stakeout, lmao

He loves taking showers with you, but like, actual showers

The first and only time you had shower sex was hot and steamy until:

1. You realised that water does not a good lube make and 2. He slipped and accidentally shoved his dick in your ass instead

You fully passed out, and he was so frantic that he bundled you into the car and drove you straight to the ER you were in just a towel, might I add

You both look back on it now and laugh, but he was genuinely scared

Shower sex = never again

But he loves it when you straddle his lap and start grinding on him bonus points if you kiss his neck and run your hands through his hair

He's a pretty vanilla boy when it comes to sex, preferring positions like missionary and cowgirl, and liking a fairly even balance of power

He got super embarrassed and flustered when he finally mustered up the courage to suggest having car sex

And then even more embarrassed and flustered when you actually ended up doing it

He was blushing so hard the entire time and came really quickly, which only added to his embarrassment but you thought it was cute

He has really sensitive nipples which you use to your advantage

He absolutely loves hates it when you send him nudes or try and sext him while he's at work, because he gets a massive boner and will either have to live with it and probably get laughed at by those goobs in the office, or deal with it in the bathroom, which feels wrong to him on so many levels

Doesn't really stop you sending them though, because whenever you do, he comes home and fucks you really well

One thing that's not vanilla about him is how much he likes cumming inside you breeding kink, welcome to the party. Please take a seat

He didn't tell you about it for the longest time because he was embarrassed about it and was afraid you'd think it was gross or something please cum in me, sir

He was so relieved when you were understanding about it and open to the idea of indulging him

But he genuinely really wants kids some day he'd be a great dad

His PTSD doesn't stop him being a good boyfriend, but he's convinced that it does

Most days he seems okay, like he's over it, even

But sometimes you'll wake up in the middle of the night and find him curled up in the bath, shaking and crying into his knees my poor baby, I can't

Excuse me while I go and cry into my pillow for a while

You're his safety net

When he feels like he's drowning, you keep his head above the water until the waves eventually calm and recede, and he can breathe again

He hates putting so much on your shoulders

But you swear to him that you wouldn't want to be doing anything else, and that you're not going anywhere

This got so angsty, my heart can't take this 😭

© imo-chan-imagines 2020

[philliamwrites]

The Dawn Will Come [Chpt.1]

Fandom: Fire Emblem Three Houses

Pairing: Dimitri x Reader, Claude x Reader, Edelgard x Reader, Yuri x Reader, Edelgard x Byleth, lots of minor pairings

Tags: #gn reader, # platonic love byleth & reader, #reader is a tactical unit, #angst, #slow burn, #subplots, #unreliable narrator, #pining, #remporary amnesia, #reluctant herp, #canon divergence, #lost twin au, #many chapters, #original content

Words: 5.2k

Summary: Waking up in a forest without any knowledge of your past and who you are, you join the house leaders of the Officers Academy to search for a way to return your memories. Unfortunately, the church has different plans for you, and Fate places you in the centre of a cruel game with deadly stakes. It certainly doesn't help to fall in love with a house leader who is doomed to be your demise.

Notes: Chapter 2 There’s also a playlist for this story that you can find here and here.

Chapter 01: A High Destiny

A high destiny seemed to bear me on until I fell, never, never again to rise.

[Mary W. Shelley, Frankenstein]

    It starts as it will end: in darkness.

    Black dots dance in front of your eyes, merging into dark shadows clawing at your consciousness. A dull throb pounds in your temple, a steady rhythm that speaks of life but isn’t enough to allow awareness of your surroundings. Memory is a foreign word you can’t explain, and trying to think of the past 24 hours is an unachievable task. Every glimpse slips through your fingers like sand, and the only steady reference point is the solid ground pressing into your hands and back.

    Slowly, you open your eyes. Treetops dance in the wind, towering above you like silent guardians of ancient times. The sun winks at you through thick branchesa and dancing green crowns, indicating it’s long past daybreak—but how do you know? Your memory is still a vast pool with no bottom and no means to dive into, and yet you think there’s a voice calling out to you, a heart-wrenching young, boyish voice—no, those are real voices ringing through the woods, appearing close to you. Alarmingly close.

    “You’re awake,” a woman’s voice starts, moments later followed by a corresponding face. Round, lavender eyes surrounded by thick, white lashes peak from above at you, blinking curiously. It’s an expression far from friendly, but not exactly hostile either, and of all the things you can think of at this moment, it is how strikingly beautiful she is. But before you can say anything, another person joins, leaning too close in for comfort.

    “You got us worried there, stranger,” a young man chimes in, squatting down beside you. His uniform isn’t exactly what you’d call fit for travelling through the woods. A heavy yellow cape falls over his shoulder, more fanciful display than practical use. But something in his posture seems very attentive, his broad shoulders taut like a drawn bowstring that won’t miss its target. “Weird place to take a nap, but hey, I’m not judging.”

    “I wasn’t—” you start, immediately struck by a throbbing pain behind your right eye that reverberates through your skull and wretches a groan from you.

    “Take it easy,” another voice joins, and panic spreads through you because of the amount of people surrounding you. Where the first man is a picture of warm colours—gold and sun kissed skin nourished on warm summer days, the other man observing you with a worried expression is clad in blue and black, blond hair falling into a pale face that carries the most striking blue eyes you’ve ever seen. Or so you think, because surely a colour like this, a blue stolen right out of the sky, wouldn’t be easily forgotten.

    More movement and rustling of fabric, and a chill settles in your bones as you begin to fear that you’ve run into a bunch of ruffians who’ve only kept you alive for so long because they’re hoping for valuable information. More people emerge from the underbrush, carrying large sacks and backpacks with billycans dangling at their sides. Among them, a tall man with a beard, clad in robust mercenary’s gear, steps forward, concealing another young woman with sharp features and unusual greenish blue hair.

    The sight of her strikes you like a bolt. It tastes like familiarity and the relief of being reunited with a long lost friend. But that is impossible. This is the first time you meet her.

    Is it?

    “You brats, I told you not to head off too far,” the older man bellows, crossing logs for arms in front of his broad chest. The first three take one big, polite step away from you, but don’t look apologetic at all.

    “I’m sorry for our hastiness, Captain Jeralt,” the girl says, her eyes darting from you still sitting on the ground to him towering in his full height above them. “But it seems we would have otherwise not found this person.”

    “This person who wasn’t really much conscious a couple of minutes ago,” the boy in yellow adds with a crooked grin. “How bad would it have been if someone else would have beaten us to it?”

    “No need to make me look like the bad guy,” Captain Jeralt interrupts with a raised hand before the boy in blue can join his friends' justifications. Instead, he turns to you and regards you with a scrutinising look.

    “What are you doing out here?” he demands. “Where’s your family? Friends?”

    “Uhm, they’re—” you start, but nothing comes to your mind. Not only that. You don’t know why you’re out here, where you are exactly … and basically anything that should come to you about your own person remains shrouded in darkness. “I don’t know.”

    Jeralt nods like that explains the very reason you’re still sitting on the ground like a misplaced cargo of cabbage. He kneads the nape of his neck, his face softening the tiniest bit. “And what’s your name?”

    Unable to hold his piercing eyes, you drop your gaze to the ground, curling your trembling fingers into the fabric of your wool jacket. “I, uh… don’t know.”

    If you thought you didn’t have their attention before, now their eyes are glued on your face in different levels of shock and disbelief.

    “A case of amnesia?” the blond male says, not quite managing to achieve the right balance between blatant curiosity and polite worry. “Does this mean you have nowhere to go? Don’tknow where to go?”

    “Goddess help you, Dimitri,” the other boy groans, running a hand through his short, brown hair. “Be any more tactless, will ya?”

    “He isn’t wrong,” the girl says, observing you like you’re a fascinating new specimen in her collection of strange things. “You need a place to stay. And help until your memories return.”

    If they return, you don’t dare to say because despite all things, hope still clings to you in the deepest corner of your heart, not allowing you to follow that train of thought and what it will mean for your future.

    “Then by all means, if you want to join,” Jeralt says, waving a dismissive hand in your direction. “I don’t think you kids accept a No, so I’m going to save my breath.” He turns around with a grunt. “Get them your horse, Byleth. We’re late as it is, and another night of Alois talking my ears off will make me do something I’ll regret.”

    The woman called Byleth keeps staring at you even as Jeralt walks past her and gives her shoulder a solid clap. You can’t say if she’s mute or just speechless because she’s filled with the same strange overflowing sensation like you: like a basin filling with water but unable to drain off. It appears you’re the same age, a couple of years older than the other three but still much younger than Jeralt, and yet the moment your eyes lock, it feels like there is something far older than any of you together passing between you. Something ancient.

    “Well, first off, on your feet, little one.” Strong hands curl around your elbows, hoisting you up in one swift movement. A wave of dizziness hits you like an unavoidable spell, and the pounding from before settles back behind your right eye.

    “Amazing, Claude,” the girl hisses, and quickly steps forward to steady you, pressing one hand against the small of your back where her strong fingers curl against the curve of your spine. Her other hand gently holds yours as she helps you regain your balance. “Excuse his manners. I promise not everyone from the Officers Academy behaves like a brute.”

    “The what now?” you ask, hit by another wave of dizziness that might originate more from the girl’s soft lavender fragrance rather than the world spinning around you.

    “The Officers Academy at Garreg Mach Monastery,” Dimitri provides this time. His posture is straight like an arrow, the stance of a soldier speaking to his officer. “That is where we attend as students and hence are going right now.”

    “And you want me to come with you?” you ask like you have the option to refuse and go somewhere else. Strangely, the thought of joining a group of armed knights and mercenaries doesn’t fill you with fear or anxiety. You’re about to tread into foreign waters, and yet your heart is calm like a still compass guiding you in the right direction.

    Claude clasps his hands behind his head like he’s got nothing to do with you feeling unwell at the moment. “Unless you have another place to be?”

    Luckily, your head does come clear and breathing becomes a little easier. You nod to the girl and she holds you a second longer before she nods back and lets go. “I guess not,” you mumble, looking at each one of them. Byleth still hasn’t moved. By now you can’t really tell if she’s looking at you or through you. Surely, she would have said something by now if she thought you were familiar, right?

    “Then it’s settled.” The girl nods solemnly, throwing her silky, white hair over her shoulder. “We welcome you in our company. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Edelgard von Hresvelg, heir to the Adrestian Empire.” Edelgard gives you a tight-lipped smile that quickly thins into a white line when the other two introduce themselves as Claude von Riegan, grandson of the Sovereign Duke of the Leicester Alliance and Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, future king to the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. None of these names ring a bell to you, but you nod, pretending to know exactly what they're talking about.

    “Okay, we need a name for you as well,” Claude proposes, tapping a slender finger against his chin. He has a strikingly sharp jaw that looks fit to cut stone. “Can’t have everyone call you stranger or little one now, can we?”

    “No,” you say. “Especially since we’re about the same height.”

    Claude laughs like you just told him the best joke he’s heard in years. “Soo, since we found you here … how about Glade? Or Woody?”

    “How about no,” you say with furrowed eyebrows.

    “Apologies.” Edeglard sighs and shakes her head, her expression a mix between disappointment and annoyance. “Claude isn’t much accustomed to the notion of consideration.”

    Claude rolls his eyes. “Then you come up with something, princess. Or is it impossible because you can’t take out the stick up your—”

    “Claude,” Dimitri half shrieks, his pale cheeks splotched with red dots. As he stumbles over his own words trying to apologise for Claude’s behaviour, Edelgard simply deadpans, “Bold words for someone in stabbing range.”

    The fourth in this round of strange people considers you with a blank expression, her steady gaze like a solid touch on your skin. Before a greater argument can break free between the students, Byleth says a name with a surety like she’s never said anything else in her life, and hearing it, this barely whispered word immediately lost to the wind, you just know it’s your name.

    “Yes, much better than what Claude proposed.” Dimitri nods, regaining his composure even though he’s still staring daggers at Claude. “It sounds more civilised as well.”

    “You didn’t even suggest anything,” Claude remarks, but the huff of annoyance quickly dissipates from his voice when he jerks a thumb towards Byleth. “That’s Byleth, by the way. Funny story is, we met her just a couple of hours ago as well.”

    “Fate must have brought us together here today,” Dimitri agrees with a solemn nod. “I swear on my honour as a noble knight from the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus that I will see you safe to the Monastery. Lady Rhea will surely be able to help you there.”

    “Okay. Thank you,” you manage, unable to connect a face to this name in your head that feels like it’s about to burst any second anyway. The only course of action lies within those strangers who are so willingly offering help that you can’t stop worrying it’s a ruse. But without anything to offer them except your life, there’s little coming to your mind that they can anticipate in taking you with them. Tthe fact that Byleth knew your name doesn’t sit right with you as well. There’s something waiting to be grasped at the tips of your fingers, and yet you lack the strength to embrace it.

    Following the little group of soldiers and students through the woods, you remain silent on the journey, only answering questions with approving or denying hums. How did you end up in this particular forest? According to Jeralt, you’re currently moving away from a village called Remire and towards the mountains to the northeast where the monastery lies tucked away between two mountains. Judging from the clothes you’re wearing, you’re a commoner, and when Edelgard pushed a slim dagger in your hand, nothing rung in intuitive knowledge about how to handle a weapon. Your mind remained silent, like an untouched chord.

    There’s little you can say about the first impression those people left on you. There seems to be a unanimous dispute between the three students, hanging palpable in the air whenever an argument starts that’s pregnant with implied insults or passive-aggressive comments. From that you gather there’s tension between the governing fractions in Fódlan, something else you’ve learnt from listening to them squabbling.

    Byleth and Jeralt acknowledge their bickering as if it was flies buzzing around their heads. They keep more to themselves and their mercenary comrades, indicating they’re really as much of strangers to the students as you. Their conversations are a lot quieter as well, their heads leaning close together for the illusion of privacy. More than once you notice Byleth sneaking glances in your direction, and every time you lock eyes, there’s something close to comprehension when she looks at you. The further you march through the woods, the less you try to meet her gaze. Reaching the monastery is the first step to regain who you are, or so you hope, because the opposite would mean you’ll continue stumbling through the darkness with no lead to your past or why you’re in this particular part of Fódlan, and you can only hope that this Rhea person really will be able to help you.

    A sound from the underbrush cuts through your thoughts.

    Thinking it might be an animal, you don’t let it bother you too much. No one else seems to have heard it, so maybe it was just your imagination. But your brain refuses to let it rest, and fails to push it away from your mind because something about the sound doesn’t seem to be right. The more you try to focus on it though, the blurrier it gets; the less you understand its origin.

    Then, you hear a voice from within the woods. It sounds like a slurred whisper.

    “What was that?” You stop in the middle of the road, looking around the thick trees. Claude barely manages to avoid walking into you. “What was what?”

    “There’s something here.” Unable to explain further, you wave your hand around for emphasis. He looks at your hand, incomprehension written all over his face. “And that something is what exactly?” he asks.

    “I don’t know.” You wave your hand wilder. “But I don’t have a good feeling venturing further.”

    “You may be still tired,” Edelgard offers, not hiding her irritation that the journey stopped. “It won’t be long until we reach Garreg Mach. You can rest however long you need inside the monastery’s infirmary.”

    “I’m not tired,” you hiss, hand falling back to your side where it clenches into a fist. “I just really don’t think we should go further for now.”

    “And why is that?” Dimitri inquirers. He raises a hand and the soldiers following them come to a halt, a murmur of unrest breathing through their lines, and it’s just enough that you question if it would be better to play if off and admit your mind is playing tricks on you due to exhaustion.

    But whenever you blink, a red veil falls over your right eye, blurring your surroundings. Little red dots move slowly in the distance through the forest. If you didn’t know better, you’d say it’s some sort of life form far away, slowly advancing on your position. “Because someone is coming,” you finally manage, scratching the thin skin below your irritated eye that’s started twitching slightly. “Someone is coming towards us from southwest. And I can’t say if they’re friendly or not.”

    Three pairs of eyes consider you like you’ve grown a second head. Only Byleth stares into the woods like she might find the strangers you’re talking about waiting behind the trees if she just looks hard enough.

    “Little one, are you sure this isn’t just an aftereffect from you hitting your head?” Claude offers, squinting into the woods. You’re pretty sure he’s staring directly at the moving dots but for whatever reason can’t see them.

    “Unless amnesia is suddenly another term for going crazy, I don’t think so,” you snap, unable to hold back the irritation raising to the surface.

    A whistle echoes through the tree crowns. Byleth snaps her head in the direction of the sound, growing all tense. She raises her hand into a tight fist, and all movement stills behind you. When you turn around, you see the mercenaries waiting in the underbrush like a flock of crows ready to swipe down on their prey. Jeralt breaks away from them and approaches Byleth, a frown cutting a deep wrinkle into his forehead.

    “Bandits,” he says, and quickly signs a hand gesture to the nearest bowman. He nods and disappears between trees. “Another mile away. If we stay on this road, we’ll walk right into them.”

    “Seven hundred feet, actually,” you blurt. Jeralt looks at you like you’re a cockroach under his boot. Another whistle cuts through the woods, one long followed quickly by two short. Byleth exhales audibly, and only now you notice she’s moved to stand beside you. “Seven hundred feet,” she mutters, her eyes fixed on you.

    Jeralt tenses. “How do you know, kid?”

    “I don’t know,” you mumble towards your boots. “I just see.”

    There’s an uncomfortable silence falling around you, and you’re too afraid to look up and read distrust in their eyes.

    “Does it matter?” Claude finally breaks the silence, sliding his bow from his shoulder. “They won’t be a problem with the knights and mercenaries on our side.” He jerks his chin towards Byleth, already plugging an arrow from his quiver. “You should really see her fight.”

    “Wait,” you say, reflexively reaching for the hem of his cape. “Don’t engage them yet.”

    Claude stops, one eyebrow arched up in a curve. “Beg your pardon?”

    “They come from the woods. Which means this is their hunting ground and they have the advantage. They have dozens of archers. I think they’re waiting until you reach a glade. And then open fire.”

    “Which means we’ll end up as skewers.” Claude scratches his chin and twirls the arrow between his slender fingers. “I can think of better ways to shuffle off this mortal coil.”

    Dimitri perks up. “You’ve read the Tale of Hamelot I gave you?”

    “I’ll give it a six out of ten. His soliloquies were awful.”

    “Boys.” Edelgard snaps her fingers impatiently as Dimitri opens his mouth to protest. “Not the time.” She takes your wrist and pulls it away from Claude’s cape, her hard gaze like a sharp knife. “Are we simply ignoring the fact that we have someone in our midst knowing the enemies’ movement and deployment?” she cuts in harshly. “Is this a plan to lure us into an ambush?”

    “You think someone would give away their comrades’ position just like that?” Claude eyes her wearily. “Don’t be so suspicious of everyone.”

    She glares at him. “I rather be suspicious than dead.”

    Which is a valid point and a trait you willingly admit to share with her, but that doesn’t really solve the problem at hand. Luckily, Dimitri seems to think the same. He doesn’t unfasten the spear on his back yet, but his fingers dance swiftly over the handle, immediately resting on where he can easily pull it from the straps if needed to strike down an enemy. “Fact is enemies are approaching,” he concludes, looking at his fellow students in search for a consensual ceasefire. “We must put an end to them before they target defenceless travellers on their way out of the forest.”

    “Spoken like a true crowd-pleaser,” Claude says, either unable or not caring to hide the mock in his voice. “We can resolve our new friend’s condition after we take down the enemy.”

    “I don’t agree with this,” Edelgard declares, but nonetheless unclasps the double-bit axe from her back and swings it on her shoulder like it weighs nothing. “But I accept that this is a more pressing issue.” The easiness in the movement robs your lungs of air, and even though there are more important matters to focus on, you wonder how her muscles play under her black uniform swinging around a thing like that. Your admiration comes to a quick end when Jeralt and Byleth close the circle. Her hand rests on the hilt of a short blade as she scans the underbrush, her body rigid with battle anticipation.

    “Let them come to us,” Jeralt announces. “Let them think they have the advantage.”

    “Your knigths over there move slow through the woods,” you say, gesturing at the waiting man clad in heavy armour and armed with shields. “But their amour can resist some stray arrows coming down on us. It’s the rearguard that will take them by surprise from another direction and—”

    “And charge their flank or rear to finish them off,” Jeralt ends with a crude nod. “Indirect approach. I thought of that as well.”

    Your mouth goes dry. The idea plopped seemingly out of nowhere in your mind, but yes, now that you think about it, that is the indirect approach tactic, first recorded after the Battle of Nicaea in … Faerghus? Or was it Adrestia? The picture in your mind is still blurry, but now you can make out definite lines of objects: Books with drawn pictures of pointing arrows and coloured lines, each lettered with a name or an approach in a neat handwriting that isn’t yours. The picture triggers another wave of dizziness, disappearing as fast as it appeared.

    “They’re going to faint in three, two, one…” Claude’s voice rips you back to the present. You glare at him and raise a fist to show how close to fainting you really are. He only laughs at the tiny fist in front of his face.

    “Enough brats, get into position,” Jeralt bellows, and the students scatter with a bouncing step in all their strides as they take the lead of a small unit.

    You’re about to retreat to the furthest point away from battle when Jeralt blocks the way. “Not you. You’re going with Byleth.”

    “I’m what?”

    “Byleth,” Jeralt nods to the young woman ahead of you, “will be the commanding unit and you’ll help her.”

    The world tilts a little as panic takes hold of you. “I can’t. I don’t know how to fight.”

    “You seem to know enough to plan a counterattack.”

    “That doesn’t mean anything.” Your voice sounds horribly piercing even to your own ears. “It was just a lucky guess.”

    “I don’t know what’s the deal with you,” Jeralt says with a finality to his voice that doesn’t allow objection, and this time you clearly see the head of a mercenary guild, one that gives commands with every breath. “But that wasn’t a lucky guess. You see what it needs to win a battle. So you guide them.”

    He turns around sharply and leaves, not bothering to check if you plan to abandon them. It’s madness. You should abandon these people, should flee from the fight that will demand blood and death. One, two, three … six steps and you’re standing beside Byleth, taking deep breaths. It doesn’t help. She eyes you sideways with a raised brow, and you flinch at the metallic rasping sound as she draws her sword.

    “I shouldn’t be here,” you mumble, staring into the woods. The red dots are approaching faster, forming into more recognisable features of humans. “I’m going to die. Without knowing who I am or why I’m here. This is the worst day of my life. I think. I don’t know. It has to be.”

    Byleth hums beside you. You can’t tell if it’s a thoughtful or an affirmative hum. “This might sound crazy, but I do trust you.”

    “Maybe you shouldn’t,” you say, struck by a sudden fear that this all is a fever dream and you're about to lead them into ruin. It’s enough that you don’t even notice this is the first time you two are talking to each other since your meeting.

    Byleth studies you out of the corner of her eyes, then says, “A very persistent voice inside me tells me I shouldn’t.”

    “That’s your survival instinct. Listen to it.”

    “Yeah,” Byleth says, and there’s something like a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips. You blink and it's gone. “I might do that.”

    You don’t really understand what’s there to smile about, but the moment quickly disappears as silence settles, only occasionally disturbed by a bird sitting in the trees above you.

    “So what exactly do you see?” Byleth whispers after a moment, barely shifting in her crouching position. You on the other hand really want to move your legs before they go numb.

    “I don’t know why you guys even believe me,” you mumble, and pinch the bridge of your nose with your fingers, trying to stave off another rush of dizziness. “And I don’t understand it myself. It’s the opponent, in a way. I see their strengths and weaknesses, their amour and weapons. It’s like … it’s like the flow of battle is displayed in front of me.”

    Byleth hesitates a moment, then nods like everything is pretty much self-explanatory. You wonder if to her it really does sound plausible, as she is someone who is practically born in battle, a daughter to a mercenary who breathes battle and fighting. Before you can explain anything further, she ducks more into the bushes and silences you with a sharp hush, her body tensed. The first bandits approach the glade, their bows and arrows ready to strike as the Academy’s knights engage them. Swords and axes clash against each other, battle cries ring through the woods. Byleth gestures you to follow her, and out of the corner of your eyes you see the students do the same, moving around the bandits. From the distance, you notice Claude gesturing wildly. It’s a mix between pointing at himself and then at the space a couple of feet away from his unit, and though you’re unable to fully comprehend it, you shake your head. He gives a thumbs up and slows down until he halts inside the thick cover of ferns.

    Just when you reach the right angle, Byleth looks back at you, waiting for your approval, and after briefly hesitating, you signal with a short nod to attack. Edelgard is the first to emerge from the underbrush. She has a dancer’s grace and a seemingly unerring instinct for what her opponent will do next. Her axe cuts through the first bandits who are too surprised to regroup in time. Dimitri and Claude are quickly to follow her. The crown prince of Faerghus wields his weapon of choice like he’s never done anything else in his entire life. The spear is the instrument to a deadly song they know by heart, and whoever stands in the way of their melody is cut down swiftly. Claude doesn’t disappoint with his steady aim either, his eyes sharper than an eagle’s. He nocks his bow, draws and impales a bandit that’s been running toward a mercenary with a crooked nose and eye patch. The mercenary gives him an offhand salute and goes back to fighting a thug twice his size.

    And then there’s Byleth. At first you don’t see her as the battle’s chaos swallows her and she disappears between moving bodies. But once your eyes catch up to her again, it’s hard to look away. Byleth moves through the enemies’ lines like an avenging angel on a mission. Her sword arm causes havoc as it conducts the tact of death’s complicated choreography and one by one the bandits fall to her deadly dance. Strangely, what describes it the best, you think, is divine.

    The battle is almost over. The last bandits fall or flee back into the woods as they abandon their comrades who lay down their weapons and yield. A miserable sound of relief escapes you when you see the end nearing with little casualties on your side, thanking whoever watches over you and guides your weapons in victory.

    That is until you see something, and at first you aren’t really sure you see it. Veiled by a red haze, a gruesome scene unfolds before you: As Byleth is focused on helping a soldier back up on his feet, a bandit strikes her from behind, wedging a dagger through her spine and into her heart. When you blink, the scene is gone and with it the red veil covering your surroundings.

    You don’t think twice. Jumping out of your hiding spot, you quickly recognise what will be Byleth’s murderer. Only he never gets the chance to approach her. With everything you’ve got, you charge into him and send him flying on the ground, you on top of him. The bandit groans, groggily turning on his back to see what struck him, and before you can start to fear for your own dear life, Byleth is beside you and rams her sword into his throat, silencing him forever.

    She looks down at you and you feel like she knows what just happened. Why you jumped in. It’s in those keen, piercing eyes that speak of a unimaginable wisdom. She reaches a hand out to help you up, and when you stand, the last bandits have been secured and the chaos finally settles. That is when the throbbing pain in your right eye doubles you ever, the pain akin to a pinprick of ice hammering into your skull. The pain makes you sick as stars explode behind your closed eyes, and the more they dance in feverish circles, the harder you press your hands against your eyelids, trying to smother the pain by pressure. It doesn’t work.

    Unable to breathe properly, your stumble, and when you move your hands, your fingers smear something warm and wet across your cheeks.

    Someone takes in a sharp breath. “Your eye,” Byleth breathes, a hand raised but remaining hanging in the air like she’s unsure if it’s okay to touch you. In the background you hear someone calling out you’re bleeding, and it takes a few seconds to understand where you’re bleeding from. Your right eye cries blood when the pain finally knocks you out, darkness falling onto everything.