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frost-queen · 10 months ago

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The moment I knew // part 9 (Reader!Bridgerton x Tewkesbury)

Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly,@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco,@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine,

@panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury, @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn, @cayt0123,

@powwowsworld, @yomamacrusty, @mileyy22, @omgsuperstarg, @helen06dreamer, @misscaller06, @l4venderia, @dracoflaco, @loliakeoghan23, @emotionaldamageemotionaldamage, @reallysparklychaos, @ok-boke, @the-fifth-marauder7, @asgards-princess-of-mischief, @cherrysxuya, @lol6sposts, @cierrajhill, @heheyhey, @drinkfantasy, @esposadomd

Summary: An idle search for a certain book sparks up your interest about a particular set of art. The queen's ball is at your disposal as you finally might receive a clear answer. [ part 1 & part 2 & part 3& part 4 & part 5 & part 6 & part 7 & part 8 & part 10 ]

“Are you going to help me or not?” – Francesca asked, looking up from the book in her hand. You had been idling away at your home library. You were normally going to assist your sister in finding a book on French artist. Yet Francesca seemed to be the only one actually searching. While you idled away on the other hand. Deep in thoughts as you stared at the book back’s with a slightly tilted head. – “I am helping.” – you muttered out letting your finger glide across the back’s.

Francesca hummed unintrigued seeing through your false lies. She shut her book with a loud thud, startling you a bit. – “Just help me Y/n.” – she begged. – “The sooner we find it, the sooner we are out of here.” – she came closer to you. You jumped when she had slapped her book against your bottom. – “Fran!” – you called out in shock.

Your sister laughing loud. Clearly amused. – “Please Y/n a bit of help.” – she asked placing the book down on a stack of other books. You nodded walking boredly to a stack of books on the desk. You picked up the first one. A blue cover with golden pressed letters on.

“That’s clearly no French.” – Francesca commented from afar, having looked up from her book to you. You set it aside, looking at the next one. A dark green book with heavy thick black letters. Francesca was looking at numerous covers, holding two in each hand. – “Have you heard anything from him?” – she asked reading the back of a book in her hand. – “From who?” – you replied reading the back of your book as well. Francesca sighed loud. - “The Viscount.” – she answered casually with a quick smile. The mention of him made you act clumsy.

You wanted to set a book back as you knocked the stack of books over. One or two dropped on the ground. – “Sorry.” – you called out seeing your sister’s scolding expression. You quickly duck down to pick them up. One of them was tipped over. Standing on the edges, pages facing the ground. You picked up the yellow book as your eye fell on the title. The secret language of fanning. Your mind immediately got pulled back to the moment with Tewkesbury.

Seeing so vividly in front of you what Tewkesbury did. The same sequence, repeated. At the time you thought it was idle. Now you weren’t so sure anymore. Still crouched down, you tilted the book to read the pages. You ruffled through them. Seeing sketches of ladies performing a gesture step by step with writing by the side. Fascinated you stopped at a page. The secret language it was describing ‘how to let your company know you are uninterested’.

It made you snicker quietly. Turning a few pages you wanted to find the sequence Tewkesbury did. Perhaps his had a meaning too? Your pursuit of finding the true meaning of it took a heavy turn. Almost obsessive as you craved the answer. Was he perhaps also showing to you he wanted to leave your company? Was it something else? Did he try to say you were ugly? Couldn’t dance? Only saw you as a friend? You were almost going insane with the unknowing.

Eyes widened when your finger pressed hard on a page to stop it. Recognizing one motion of Tewkesbury’s. – “Y/n!” – Francesca called out, startling you. The book fell out of your hand as you jumped up, bumping the back of your head against the desk above you. – “Au!” – you shouted keeping a hand on your head as you slowly rose, minding not to hit the desk again while rising. – “Found it.” – Francesca exclaimed happily, showing you the book.

“Oh sorry.” – she apologized seeing you rub your head. Your head turned slightly, looking down at the book you were very eager to finish. – “Come we are finished.” - Francesca went over to you, grabbed you by your wrist and started pulling you out of the library. ‘I’ll come back for you’. You thought as you got pulled through the door. On your way out, you encountered Benedict in the hallway.

“Found it!” – Francesca said happily, holding the book up. Benedict took the book in his hands. – “Excellent sister.” – he replied giving her the book back. – “Now I can astonish my governess.” – she said feeling over the moon. You got dragged along again, trying to keep up with her quick feet, as you hoped much not to trip over your own. Benedict laughed at his adoring sisters.

Finally you had found a way to escape Francesca’s clutches. You loved her but she could be a too much towards you. She had always felt a strong push towards you. She confided with you on about almost anything. You were her most truest friend and beloved sister. You took the turn, leading you back to the home library. That itch of reading more of that book unstilled. Quickening your pace, you were almost panting. Panting with desperation to reach it.

So desperate you walked straight past your brother Colin without a proper greeting. He smiled wanting to greet you, his smile faltering when you walked straight passed him. Clearly too occupied in your own thoughts. Hands almost shaking you threw the door open. Finally your questions would be answers.

Finally the storm in your head would still. Yet you were greeted with a harsh stomp. Bluntly you stared at a cleared up room. All the books that once was stacked around on the desk. On the floor. On the small table. All gone. All neatly set back on the shelves where they belonged. You screamed loud out of agony. As if something was keeping you from knowing the answers.

Stumped and defeated you outed your emotions. Shouting, stomping your feet and swaying your arms to curse at the maids who cleaned up the library. Crying and sobbing, dropping down in utter despair. It would take forever to find it back. Sobbing loud, you remained in place. Crouched down as you held your knees. Your limbs felt numb and stiff yet you didn’t move. Grieving too much for a book. The library had gone dark.

Till the creak of the door and a light flickered into the room. A heavy set of feet entered the room as the light fell upon you. – “Y/n.” – Anthony said soft placing the candle on the small table near you. – “What are you doing here sister. It is bed-time.” – he told you kneeling down to your height. Lips pouted, you moved your position, throwing your arms around him and bury your face against his chest.

Anthony immediately responded by holding your arm and back. Kissing the top of your head. He didn’t need to know what bothered you. He only needed to know that you required his attention and love. – “Let’s get you to bed.” – he whispered, repositioning his hands. He picked you up, carrying you in his arms. You kept your arms around his neck, resting your head against his chest. He blew the candle out, leaving the library in the darkness.

He carried you up the stairs up till your room, where he carefully laid you on your bed. – “How did you find me?” – you asked as he was adjusting your covers to warm you. – “Colin told me, he saw you head for the library.” – he responded tugging you in. – “Good night sister.” – he spoke, giving you a night kiss on your forehead. – “Night brother.” – you responded. He left your room with a warm smile on his lips.

━━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━

“What are you doing here?” – you called out in shock. – “Is that how you greet your sister?” - Daphne replied with her hands on her hip. – “Apologies.” – you rushed out, curtsying before her. Daphne’s stern glare faltered, revealing her gracious self once more. She entered your room more. – “Mama has asked me to assist you.” – she spoke approaching you. She touched your chin, admiring you. – “It is just the queen’s ball.” – you told her, gulping soft at the hard glare from your sister.

Clearly you had said something wrong. – “It is not just the queen’s ball Y/n. It is the queen’s ball!” – she exclaimed letting your hair glide through her fingers. – “And you need to look your upmost best.” – she booped your nose making you flutter your lashes. – “If not for the queen, for a certain Viscount most certainly.” – she added nudging you playfully in the side. You could only stare at her. Your stare made her laugh. – “He’s but a friend.” – you told her. – “Uh-hu.” – Daphne said unamused and seeing right through you.

She turned you around, pushing you to your vanity. – “Now let’s make you diamond worthy.” – she whispered to you with a gleam in her eyes. You swallowed nervously, looking back at your own reflection in the mirror. Daphne cleared her throat loud when she stood at the top of the stairs. All your siblings waiting down below. – “Finally.” – Gregory said receiving a flick against his ear from Benedict. – “Au! What was that for.” – he called out.

Benedict was about to comment on it when Daphne cleared her throat, silencing him. Eloise rolled her eyes. – “You are always dramatizing everything Daph.” – she outed with crossed arms. Daphne ignored her comment. – “I present to you, our sisters.” – she spoke with a gesture. First Francesca appeared as you followed right behind her. Mama teared up at the sight of her glorious daughters. Each a pearl in their own way.

“Try keeping any men away from them now.” – Benedict joked to Anthony with a snicker. Anthony slapped his hand at him as Benedict avoided being hit just in time. Francesca and you went down the stairs to join the others. Daphne coming after you. – “I shan’t be present, but enjoy every moment. I remember I did.” – she told you and Francesca.

“I remember you tried to win over the prince.” – Colin commented with a smirk. – “At least I could attract royalty.” – she mocked back with a sarcastic undertone. Benedict and Anthony laughed at Colin’s dumbfound stare, unable to come with any comeback. You were all heading for the carriages as Daphne pulled you back to her, separating you from the others. – “Y/n.” – she started. – “Do not be content with watching from the side. Don’t lose it all when you let the precious time slip away.” – she went on as it confused you.

Trying to find the meaning of her words. – “Don’t keep fighting it and let yourself fall.” – she finished with a soft smile. She gave you a kiss on your forehead before sending you off. You got on the carriage with your brothers and Francesca. The words of your sister spinning in your mind. The carriage got in motion as it hobbled over cobblestone. Riding towards the palace for the queen’s ball. The highlight of the season as it was nearing.

Words were almost impossible to distinguish. The room filled and warm. Up on the balcony was someone observing the space below. A man overlooking it all. Tewkesbury stood by the railing. One hand on the railing as he attentively searched the belows. Many faces he saw, yet not the one he desired to see. In a corner of the room below, he saw his grandmother chatter with some elderly ladies. A bit more to the centre, he saw Enola make her way swiftly through the people.

Still there was no sign of you. He was almost becoming desperate. Hopeless that you wouldn’t be present. Hopeless that you perhaps already settled down for another. Groaning soft, he turned his head away in disgust. Not wanting to think about it. He sighed wanting you to show yourself. Then a group of people caught his attention. His immediate gaze fell upon your brother Anthony, coming in from the right. His second response was to look for you amongst them. There he found you, holding your brother Benedict’s arm. A relieved smile showed on his face. A weight falling off his shoulder.

Letting go of the railing, he made his way down the stairs to reach the belows. He needed to reach you. He needed to see your beauty from up close. Tewkesbury pushed a way through the crowd. – “Miss Y/n!” – he called out to get your attention. You turned your head, having heard your name, yet no familiar face was in sight yet. Till a lord passed and revealed you an approaching Tewkesbury. – “Miss Y/n!” – he repeated coming to a stop before you.

He grabbed your hand, lifting it up as he bowed his head near your hand. A gesture that made your sister almost lose her mind from excitement. – “May I have this dance?” – he asked only looking at you. You looked back to your brothers, looking for confirmation. Anthony shook his head as Benedict slapped him against his chest, nodding.

“We just got here.” – you heard Anthony speak to Benedict a bit annoyed when Tewkesbury took you with him. He positioned you in front of him. The music started as you greeted each other. Tewkesbury kept his hand above yours, guiding your arm to lift and lower gracefully. Turning his head, he repeated the same with your other hand. He then took your hand allowing you to spin underneath his arm.

With a firm pull, were you pressed closer to him. His hand on your lower back. It made you gulp soft. Tewkesbury smiling down at you. With one hand on his back, the other on your lower back, he swayed with you from side to side. Your dress swishing around. – “You look beautiful.” – he told you as you turned with him. He lifted your arm up again in motions, going higher and higher each time. Till you spun under his arm.

He let his hand slide down your wrist to your elbow as you lowered your arm to hold it up against his chest. Tewkesbury pressed his hand against yours, near his cheek, giving your palm a gentle push so you could spin. You spun back to him as he kept his hand on your lower back again. Swaying to the side. Taking your hand, he led it up and down as you approached and backed away.

A smile growing on your lips. You gasped soft when he grabbed you firm to waltz. He took his space waltzing with you. He let go of you with one hand. Holding your hand in his. You spun out, still holding his hand. Returning to him, he changed your hand to his other, where you moved across and spun out as well.

Giggling a bit, you felt like a princess. Tewkesbury moved a hand to your lower back, pulling you closer to his side. You let your hand join his on your hip. His other hand holding yours, stretched out. Pressed against his side, you looked up to him as you waltzed around. Tewkesbury grabbed almost desperately for your waist as the music picked up. Sweeping you up in the moment.

You set yourself off as Tewkesbury lifted you up. Turning a bit before he set you back down. Your eyes meeting as your faces were dangerously close. Gently panting in each other’s presence. Your noses almost touched when you circled around with him. Breaking the tense contact, he gave you a push to make you spin round. Till you went back to him.

The music fading out as the end of the dance was nearing. Tewkesbury and you circled around each other, staring at each other’s eyes. Slowly you stopped as the music stopped, letting out their last note. Tewkesbury and you greeted each other once more to thank one another for the dance. Out of breath, you felt hot. Overheated from the dance.

Tewkesbury took your hand, leading you away from the dance. He simply followed you as it seemed you were taking the lead. Guiding him outside as you needed some fresh air. If you didn’t have any fresh air, you thought you might pass out. The breeze was chillingly welcoming. The queen’s garden a dream come true as you overlooked it. – “I… I hope I haven’t given you any trouble from showing up unannounced last time.” – Tewkesbury spoke joining your side on the balcony.

Looking back at him, you shook your head. – “I hope my family hasn’t given you a fright. The duke can be intimidating.” – you chuckled out. Tewkesbury shook his head. – “Not as intimidating as my grandmother’s death stare.” – he joked making you laugh. You tried to stop laughing, remembering your manners. – “I shouldn’t laugh at your grandmother.” – you told him and yourself to stop being so foolish. – “It’s quite fine.” – Tewkesbury responded, leaning a bit closer to you. – “I laugh at her as well.” – his reaction made you snort loud. Which made you cover up your mouth for thinking you were acting wildly.

“I like your laugh.” – he told you. You lowered your hands. – “I like everything about you.” – he continued. You smiled shyly. – “You must have girls falling over themselves to get to you.” – you responded turning your head a bit away. – “Why did you choose me?” – you asked. Tewkesbury slightly furrowed his brows. He needed a moment, but knew deep down you referred to the night of the opera. He lowered his gaze. – “You laughed.” – he replied, making you furrow your brows.

“It might have been idle back then, but I assure it is not anymore. I’ve grown very fond of you Miss Y/n.” – he turned his posture as you followed so you were facing each other. – “Y/n Bridgerton, the girl who wanted to be a princess.” – he tugged a stray of hair behind your ear, his knuckles brushing against your cheek. – “I see one right now.” – he added with a whisper. You felt flustered taking a shy step back. You turned away not sure what the storm inside of you was saying. A mixture of emotions you couldn’t possibly name or count. You moved further away from him to the steps, needing more air. Tewkesbury followed.

You went down a few steps till you stopped. – “What did it mean?” – you asked. Tewkesbury frowned. – “What did it mean?” – you repeated turning around to him. Standing lower than him, you had to look up at him. – “The fanning.” – you questioned.

If your book wasn’t going to give you answers, you would ask him directly. Tewkesbury swallowed nervously. – “It meant something didn’t it? The secret language of fanning.” – you told him. – “What did it mean?” – you asked curiously, looking yearningly at him. Tewkesbury swallowed soft, before speaking with yearning eyes. – “It means I love you.”

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Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

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nevernonline · 1 year ago

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✧.* grow as we go; svt smau.

entry #09 seeing red.

synopsis: over the past ten years you’ve fallen in love many times. one day someone happens to stumble across your journal sitting out on your nightstand and started posting your entries online. after all of your secrets are leaked it’s clear things would ever be the same again.

𐦍 paring: svt members x afab! reader.

𐦍 feat: non-idol! svt, (g)-idle minnie&soyeon, oc’s

𐦍 genre/s: reader is super angsty low-key, fluffy, sexual themes.

𐦍 content: swearing, bullying, crazy ex’s, mentions of sexual relations, some drinking& mary jane 🍃

word count: 2.7k

masterlist ▸ 008 not the bath mat. ▸ 010 coming soon

“You okay?”

Seokmin’s voice rang through y/n’s ears as she drove her car away from of Vernon’s white apartment building.

“Yeah, I think so. I’m just nervous for some reason like I can’t put into words why, but my gut is telling me something is weird.”

“Gut instincts are rarely ever wrong, but I’ll be by your side until you tell me you don’t need me to be. Okay?”

Pulling up into the parking lot of the glass framed building just on the edge of the city overlooking the water, y/n felt her nervous sweating start to begin, almost begging for air conditioning to surround her like a chilled hug.

“Want to hold my hand?”

“Yes please, they’re clammy I’m sorry.”

Gripping onto Vernon’s firm hand the three boys almost looking like her bodyguards bypassed the frenzy of people outside waiting to get their own peak at Minghaos installation themselves and walked through the door.

The room was filled with small tables, made by hand as a final touch to Minghaos work, adorned with dainty black table clothes and bottles of champagne placed in ice buckets.

The room was softly lit with yellow and white lighting making everyone have a glow that bounced off of them almost as if they weren’t real.

“Would you guys like a drink? We have champagne and two signature cocktails, one is a gin based drink called ‘delicate’ and the other is a whiskey ginger based drink called ‘storm cloud.”

The beautiful waitress signaled at y/n’s small group and pointed out the drinks on the table.

“I think two storm clouds and one delicate one for sure. Y/n? What would you like?”

You spun to look into Junhui’s big eyes, skating your head saying anything is alright with you so he made the conclusion to just order you the same as Seokmin to be safe.

“Thank you.”

Y/N placed a tip in the small bartenders jar and bid her a smile knowing she’ll be back for more later in the night

“Should we look around now and try to find Minghao? Or wait a bit?”

“Seok lets just wait here, it doesn’t seem like anyone is looking around yet, I'm trying to spy for Minnie and Mingyu.”

“And Mimi.”

“Yeah. Her too.”

“Guys, Vernon and I are going to go find Vernon’s friend Seungkwan. We'll be back in a second.”

“No problem.”

Y/n and Seokmin waved the cute couple off into the crowd.

“So y/n.”

“Seoky.”

“How are we feeling now? What was going on in the car?”

“I don’t know. I told you I’m alright.”

“Yeah but you don’t have to lie to me about that.”

“I promise you I would never lie to you, we basically took an unintentional blood oath as kids it stays”

“Okay. I love you, you know that right? But I rarely see you nervous like this so I can’t help but feel concerned.”

“Shut up. Yes I do and I love you too. I promise im alright.”

Averting her gaze back to the front door she watched as Minnie and Mingyu walked hand and hand, strutting past a very devious looking Mimi standing to the right, chit chatting with someone who was unrecognizable to y/n.

“They look good together.”

“Yeah, they do.”

“Do you think this fake dating is going to lead to them.. you know.”

“Well. If I can be honest with you y/n which I'm sure I can, I think it already has.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you alright with that?”

“I am actually. Any other time it would’ve killed me I think, but now.. I don’t know? I’m content. They make sense.”

“You shine too bright to have someone who shades you.”

“What does that even mean?”

“I don’t know actually, I think im drunk already.”

Y/n placed a small kiss on Seokmin’s temple laughing at his flushed cheeks before a familiar yet irritating voice cut through their ears.

“Y/n, Seokmin. Hi! You both look absolutely gorgeous. Mind if I sit?”

“Hi, Mimi. Sure.”

“How are you guys? This is so beautiful and we haven’t even seen his art yet, how crazy. He’s so talented.”

“Yeah it’s nice. You look great, I love your bag.”

“Thank you. You look nice. I see you didn’t go with the outfit you picked out the other day.”

“Hao told us to come in black so it just didn’t feel right.”

“Mimi, can I ask you how you know Minghao again?”

“Oh wow, well it’s a long story. We met a few years ago, I haven’t seen him in a while actually.”

“Ah, I see. Did you go to school together or?”

“Wow Seokmin, someone’s nosey.”

“Oh, sorry no, not nosy just curious is all. I didn’t know you knew him.”

“It’s okay. Our parents actually work together.”

“Nice.”

“Do you know if he arrived yet? I’m sure he’d love to see you in this gorgeous outfit. Leaving everything to the imagination, he likes conservative girls.”

“No we haven’t seen him, we're just waiting for Junhui actually.”

“Aw, cutie. His boyfriend seems so nice, I stalked them online today. Dumb and dumber vibes, you know? I’m more curious though did you see Minnie and Mingyu? How trashy getting with your friends hook up? Maybe she truly has it out for you. You’re too pretty to never be the one to end up with the guy. But actually you should just date Seokmin, everyone knows how much you guys love each other, it could work out well.”

“Oh I-

“Well, I have to get going and find my way to the girls room. I’ll see you later. Toodles.”

“Toodles”

Seokmin’s voice gained a depth that you haven't heard since someone pushed him in the fountain at your high school during senior prank week.

“What the fuck was that?”

“Fucking weird is what that was.”

Seokmin’s tone turned quickly into a quiet mocking of Mimi’s.

“Dumb and Dumber vibes.”

The two of them laughed as they shrugged off the interesting encounter with a former foe.

A bartender came over to the pair and handed them both a flute of champagne, as the rest of the patrons erupted into a roar when Minghao made his way into the building, Wonwoo walking beside him, smiling at his friend who was receiving praise from his acquaintances, hugging and high fiving him for his success, some chanting for him to make a speech.

Minghao walked straight past Mimi who was stealthily placed behind a tall gentleman the star of the night was not paying any attention to her whatsoever, almost like she was invisible. He strode over to the small table where y/n and Seokmin were awkwardly standing clutching the glass flutes, wrapping his arms around the both of them at the same time.

“You guys look.. amazing, thank you for coming.”

Minghao took a deep breath and looked up and down at the girl he had his arm around.

“Seriously. Thank you.”

“Our pleasure.”

“I’ll be back after I say some thank yous, maybe we can all walk through together okay?”

“Cool.”

The intimate crowd surrounded Minghao and Wonwoo handed him the matching glass of sparkling wine and he held it up as a small cheers.

Y/n peaked through the crowd and spotted Minnie and Mingyu to her right, still looking as loving as ever, Vernon and Jun to her left with an unrecognizable boy, who threw a small wave in her direction that she could only pass off as Seungkwan the only one she couldn’t place was Mimi.

“Hey guys. I just wanted to say thank you for coming tonight to the opening of my show. It’s been about a two year process to finally get through to this night. Many of you have been around much longer than that, so thank you for supporting me even when I was up late at night calling you upset about how it wasn’t going to work out. Vernon, Wonwoo, Seungkwan, and Mingyu, you guys truly were the only reason I didn’t jump ship many times from achieving this goal. It’s nice to see old faces like yours mixed into a group of new friends. So thank you, everyone, really. We’re going to take a peek through the gallery now, feel free to bring your drinks and grab some more along the way. And yeah, just enjoy yourselves. Thank you.”

The clapping dwindled down as the group followed Minghao through the journey he went through over the past two years starting from just a week ago up until the beginning.

Y/N stopped Seokmin to look at a very small white canvas decorated with various pastel water color paints mixed with an oil that looked almost the color of fresh blood.

“Do you know when I did that?”

“This?”

Minghaos voice spoke up behind them quietly, not wanting the room to echo as the group was admiring the work during their part one journey. Seokmin smiled down at his female friend and decided to take the opportunity to wander off on his own like any good wingman would do.

“Yeah.”

“Uh, no. Is this a trick question?”

“No it’s not, but it was that night I found you on your floor, looking at those pictures of you and your friends.”

“I- You got inspired by that? How?”

“Not sure I have time to explain it right now, but look at the title.”

‘About you’ was written on the plaque to the right side of the artwork.

“Wow. Thank you.”

“No thank you, I couldn’t have finished any of this without you actually.”

The art curator swooped Minghao away from your side moving the group into the second room, where the energy was colder, the lighting was turned down slightly, causing the fading colors the feel cold and dark and full of sadness especially coming from the front of the house that was bright and full of life.

y/n was on her own now, sitting near the back of the group losing her sight of all her comfort blankets that were her friends.

She spotted the red lip of Mimi directly across the room, also slipping to the back, trying to blend into the crowd as she looked around.

After spending a good ten minutes looking around the group was led through a vinyl curtain into a room full of dark red lights, the canvases on the wall now sunk to the floor of the room and scattered themselves alongside ripped and tattered papers on the concrete floors.

Something in y/n’s stomach had told her she should leave now, the growing anxiety of the light and coldness of the room, with near to no talking as the faint look of paint splatter sunk into her eyes on the walls almost like old blood.

She tried to turn around and make her exit through the same vinyl door when a hand came up to her wrist.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Oh, Mimi hi, shit you scared me. I actually don’t feel well. I was going to dip out for a second.”

“Aw, come on y/n you can’t leave Minghao now. Not before the big finale.”

“Right..”

“Be right back, I’ll find Seokmin for you.”

“Thank you.”

All of the sudden as Mimi walked away a projector screen hit the wall, various old videos shot on a cam recorder.

Y/n had recognized the faint pink colored walls, her own childhood room.

“Let’s go fucking crazy.”

The words came from lips that were set behind the camera only y/n knowing it was the sound of Mimi’s voice as she was being filmed sitting on the bed of her old room, a bottle of cheap vodka in her hands.

“Okay, y/n I want you to see how pretty you are. We can send this to Joshua as a birthday gift. Should I turn the lights off more?”

She watched herself as she nodded awkwardly giggling on top of the zebra sheets, her hands pushing the red bottle of liquor to her lips, dribbling the liquid down her chin, the sight of tears welling up in her round eyes.

“Y/nnie don’t be sad, nobody will ever find out we accidentally hurt anyone, okay? My dad said she’ll be okay, just a broken leg. Just let loose.”

The lights flickered off the screen straight into her soul pushing down the memories of Mimi stealing her dads car while intoxicated to go and buy more alcohol before this very moment played out.

Suddenly she saw red. All of this had been a set up to embarrass her. Another nail in her coffin.

Her eyes filled with tears as she watched Mimi turn the people in the room to sit and stare at her face. Watching the scene play on as Mimi told a very naive twenty year old girl to strip herself of her own clothes to impress the boy she liked and forget about the worst day of her life.

The people in the room sized her up and down, some turning back to the screen, others reading a small handout that was stuffed into a map of the museum while giggling at the journal entries she wrote about her once crush and the man she had fallen for now before she even made the connection of who he was to her all of those years ago.

Y/n’s legs felt like jello, yet something in her built up the strength to bolt through the vinyl curtain, her heels echoing through the white walls like bullets hitting a glass window.

She heard a voice cutting through the sound of her heels behind her calling out, but she decided she couldn’t stop to turn around and face anyone. It was a secret that couldn’t be shared, something that Mimi used as a final dagger to cut everyone out of her life the same way she cut the girl out of her own.

As she reached the fresh air of the front doors, the same cute bartender was sitting out on the curb smoking a cigarette looking concerned for y/n’s well being.

“Are you alright?”

“No.”

“Want a cigarette?”

“A ride maybe? If it’s not too much to ask. I dropped my phone somewhere, I have cash I can pay you. I just need to get out of here now.”

“I don’t need your money, it’s okay. Let me help you get a cab okay?”

“Thank you, really. What’s your name?”

“Rena. Yours?”

“Y/n”

Rena walked quickly with y/n to the outside cab pickup on the corner of the art museum, quickly hailing you a cab and shutting you tightly inside, leaving you with the last four cigarettes stuffed inside her metal case. As you drove off with a wink from her, meaning she had a feeling she’d see you again.

“55 Miles Avenue, please”

The driver sped through the night lights avoiding cars like it was a game. Pulling up outside the familiar front of Joshua’s building.

Basically throwing money at him and whispering a quick thank you, y/n ran her way up to his elevator, finally reaching his floor, and knocking heavily on the door.

In the few seconds he took to come unlock his apartment to her, she realized how desperate and deschevled she must look.

“Y/n? It’s still early, are you okay?”

“No.”

“Come in, come in.”

Her tears suddenly grew stronger, sinking down to his wooden floor, feeling his hands grab her shoulders and sink down with her.

“What happened?”

Words couldn’t form in her mouth correctly, she managed to spill a couple of sentences that made a way to fill him in.

“Fuck. Y/n come on, let’s get you a shower and some fresh clothes.”

Joshua’s arms picked the girl off the floor and led her into his black marble bathroom, which suddenly felt like an oasis to her.

The water ran hot, scorching her body of the sins and embarrassment she had just gone through, spending more time scrubbing away at her skin and hair, feeling like it would help if she rubbed her skin nearly raw.

Stepping out of the shower she grabbed the gray hoodie and soft sweatpants Joshua had laid out for her, taking her time to step into her clothes and walk out into her reality.

“I ordered you some food. Come on.”

As she finished eating in her daze, the boy to her left carefully rolled the thin paper over the green flower and lit the end, handing her a relief from her stress.

“Thank you.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not right now.”

“Okay. But im sorry I made you befriend her again, I should’ve known better y/n. I really thought she had changed.”

“Stop. Please, I really don’t want to talk about her right now.”

“Okay, just one last thing. Why do you think she did it?”

“I honestly have no idea.”

“But do you think Minghao had something to do with it I mean she basically ruined his whole night just for her own revenge. Seems weird that he-“

“Josh.”

“Okay. okay.”

Joshua and y/n sat in the haze of their shared joint, not talking until she finally had enough of a high to fall asleep next to him on the couch and chose to deal with her problems the next day.

bonus:

note/s: part one of y/n’s wild ride fr. i feel like yall all know we can trust seok/bernon/wonu/junhui for sure 😌✊🏻 but for everyone else the jury (me) is still out lmao. IK MY ASS USED THE WRONG YOUR ok thank u lets just chalk it up to seokmin being drunk and silly lmao <3 i kept telling myself this is too rushed but i also didn’t want to overwhelm and put more of the drama here so lol. def prob typos etc etc bc i was editing at night which i def shouldn’t do anymore lmao. ok ttyl ily.

tag list: @sun-daddy-yoriichi,@hipsdofangirl@kissesfrmwonwoo, @minhui896, @wonwooz1, porridgesblog,, jasssy051, @soonyoungblr, @saucegirlreads, @musingsofananxiouspotato, @young-adult-summer, @punkhazardlaw, @bibs-world@the-swageyama-tobiyolo@wonuulvr@woozixo @k-drama-adict

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reds-ultrakill-brainrot · 2 years ago

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A Good Night’s Rest

sleeping headcannons (included characters; V1, Gabriel, Minos Prime)

x reader content (heavily leaning romantic, though still aromantic friendly)

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Gabriel - a light sleeper, he tends to take a long time to get to sleep as he often has a lot on his mind. He would hesitate to share such thoughts lest he burden you with his problems, but he greatly appreciates any chance he would get to talk about it before going to sleep - his favourite sleeping position is the sweetheart cradle, keeping you close to his side. He doesn't have much left besides you and it helps quiet his worries having you nestled up to him - rarely wakes once he gets to sleep, though will stir if you leave the bed. he doesn't mind if you have problems sleeping or if you need to get up during the night, he's always there if you need his help - isn't one to nap often, but will lay with you if you want to use him as a pillow

V1 - they don’t particularly have the ability to sleep but they can go into a sort of idle mode, this allowing them to only keep core systems running. this however doesn't put their mind to sleep, so they often use that time to rewatch their favourite memories, most involving you - they are fairly cold to the touch if they haven’t fought recently, so you may find cuddling them a little uncomfortable, but this is easily remedied with more blankets - their favourite sleeping position is being the big spoon, there aren’t many positions you can sleep together due to their wings but they do appreciate keeping you in their arms, they know they can keep you safe this way - as previously mentioned they do not need to sleep, and as such aren't bothered by you being a restless sleeper or needing to get up, they will most likely 'wake' to see what you are oding - v1 is a very active machine and doesn't really understand naps, but is happy to keep themself quiet if you want to nap nearby

Minos - very much appreciates rest, he finds spending such time together intimate and would gladly lounge away most days - due to his size it’s most likely you will end up either laying on top of him or being cuddled, he would rather avoid the potential of crushing you in his sleep - his favourite sleeping position is front to front, he could spend forever admiring you, and waking up to your face is a sight he will never grow tired of - will playfully tease you if you leave the bed, trying to persuade you to come back to bed or comment on how you interrupted his beauty sleep. he isn't bothered by your activity, but he finds himself missing your warmth - minos is a big appreciator of naps and is more than happy to be used as a cushin. on more than one occasion he has found himself with a novel in hand and you curled up on his lap

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i am blown away by the response ive had and am so excited people have enjoyed my writing. i have a minos prime headcanon post in the works but i will be posting my requests guidelines first, so stay tuned

#ultrakill x reader #v1 ultrakill x reader #gabriel ultrakill x reader #minos prime x reader #ultrakill

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hananoami · 6 months ago

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NEW INTERACTIONS: SYLUS EDITION

Hang out with Sylus in Destiny Cafe, interact with him and see his reactions. From now on, he will also be there during your study, work, and workout.

I AM SO HYPED TO BE ABLE TO SEE HIM IDLE ON MY HOMESCREEN IN THE NEW AND OLD DESTINY CAFE!

The endless possibilities of making him wear all of the outfits I have in my collection... not to mention what his responses would be while wearing said outfits, hehehe. I know there were some previews of his Relax Time based off of your affinity with him -- can't wait to have him call me a kitten uwu -- but I am totes curious to see what his Heartbeat, food recommendations, and tete-a-tete would be like.

We'll have new interactions in Quality Time too, which means more we'll have even more achievements to unlock and thus more diamond rewards / chat bubble skins to obtain! Not to mention new profile statuses to add to your History Mood collection. I will most likely post those and how to obtain them later on once I unlock them myself.

Anyway, based on the achievements that I have obtained with the other guys, his new spare time achievements will probably look like this:

Spend your quality time with Sylus for 15 days. Reward: chat bubble + 30 diamonds.

Spend quality time with Sylus for 5 consecutive weeks. Reward: chat bubble + 30 diamonds.

Work or Study with Sylus for 3 consecutive weeks. Reward: 30 diamonds.

Workout with Sylus for 3 consecutive weeks. Reward: 30 diamonds.

Exercise with Sylus for up to 7 times during weekends. Reward: chat bubble + 30 diamonds.

In total that's 3 chat bubble skins and 150 diamonds (enough for a single wish xd). It may not seem like a lot, but those diamonds add up especially if you're F2P!

They are also introducing another achievement in the spare time section. The requirement to obtain these workout medals is to workout with any of the love interest for 60 days to earn his medal! I want to point out that it says 60 days in total; there is no mention of it having to be done consecutively so that's reassuring, especially if you've taken a break from doing so like I have. Also hunters who have reached the target before the update can log in to claim it instantly on July 15th!

Truthfully, aside from the weekly mission with one of the love interest, I haven't been keeping up with it this month since my irl schedule has been so chaotic and busy... However, I am semi-confident that I reached this target goal back at the end of May? Surely I've done enough days to obtain this on Monday, but we shall see...

#love and deepspace #love & deepspace #lnds #lads #l&ds #sylus #qin che #秦彻 #jinwoon #진운 #shin #シン #destiny cafe #quality time #relax time #;chat bubbles #;achievement notes #;not me rambling into the void #opposing visions

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ghostofthedarkhold · 1 year ago

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symbiotic daydream

pairing: venom!kate bishop x fem!reader

she/her pronouns are used, and mentions of the reader wearing a dress.

word count: 3.4k (3428)

warnings: dark kate, venom forcing kate to think dark thoughts, obsession, stalking, kinda dub-con kissing but not really, no actual smut, groping, suggestive content/language.

a/n: I was going to include smut but this fic really got away from me so if yous like it then I’ll probably do a pt.2 at some point with smut :)

so yeah, surprise, i am doing kinktober this year. however i done absolutely horrible at completing my masterlist last year so this time around im just going to post monster fucking fics as i please with no official masterlist. enjoy!

Symbiotes in the modern world are few and far between, but it’s no secret that some people have the parasitic creatures leeching on their brain, a passenger in their mind. Most people avoid the people that are bonded to the inky creatures that cause cities to run red with blood and pleasure, others hunt them out after an initial encounter with them, obsessed with the ecstasy they had only been given a crumb of. Rumours of the symbiotes' destruction are nothing new to Kate, something her mother had warned her of for her whole life, their wants corrupting the minds of those they inhibit, but she’d never come across one herself, and while part of her was always curious to see them other than on the news, she was mostly thankful for it. That was, until one latched onto her.

Venom made himself known almost immediately after latching onto the young college student, plaguing her mind with thoughts of sadism, of having girls under her, begging her for mercy that she would never grant. Pushing those thoughts out of her mind, Venom began trying to persuade her with other things. Pleasure. Overwhelming amounts of pleasure brought upon her victims, making them beg and scream for her. These thoughts were much more difficult for the young archer to shake off. A young, hormonal, and, quite frankly, already insatiable Kate Bishop with never-ending thoughts of sex? She was done for long before she ever accepted, or even realised, it. But she was capable of holding back. Until she saw you.

She first saw you walking out of the movie theatre with some friends. You were tugging down your dress that had ridden up your thighs from sitting in the theatre chair for the past few hours, and Venom was practically screaming at her, trying to force her limbs forward, to stride over to you and pull your dress up your hips instead of allowing you to move it further down. She was able to stop herself, just barely. But without even knowing it, from that moment forward, you had Kate Bishop in your trap.

She was sly, following behind wherever you went without you even knowing it. Stalking behind you in the street, swinging from rooftop to rooftop with the help of Venom’s neverending slick webs of ink, watching you from across the street while you danced and drank in bars, went from store to store on your weekly shopping trip, snuggled in comfortably for the night in the assumed safety of your own bed. You had completely, wholly taken over Kate’s life without ever having met her. Every time she sat down to study she couldn’t do anything but scribble down your name and draw sketches of you from memory in her, admittedly amature and flawed, art style, every time she drew her bow she couldn’t help but picture her arrow sinking into the flesh and piercing the heart of whoever she saw you with last, a crush, a friend, even a stranger you may had just been giving directions to, they were all the same to Kate, undeserving of even being in the same vicinity as you. When she finally cracked and leaned into her new role as your very own, personal stalker and did some idle snooping online, finding out that you were enrolled at the same college as her, everything became much, much worse. Finding out which classes you took, Kate mangled and stretched her schedule out as much as she was able to until she finally managed to land herself a spot in three out of five of your classes, which was honestly more than the brunette had hoped for when she sent out her email, requesting, practically begging for, her new classes.

Kate sat a few rows directly behind you in the partially empty lecture halls, at first content to watch the back of your head and the way you furiously scribbled down notes in attempt to keet up with your various professors ramblings, but eventually that no longer satisfied her need to be near you, she needed to know you. So, with her heart thudding out of chest like that time she tried to ask her crush in middle school to the winter dance, and Venom’s crazed and incessant cheering clattering around in her brain, instead of taking her usual seat, she stopped a few rows ahead than she normally would in Professor Maximoff’s class and slid in the seat beside you, nearly sending your normal seat partner tumbling to the floor. But when your eyes found hers and you gave her that sweet smile she had watched you give others, for months pleading with the universe for it to be directed at her, followed by a shy greeting, Kate no longer worried about the boy she had practically rugby-tackled to the ground. Honestly, the entire world could have imploded at that very second, and as long as you were in a protective bubble and gave her that same smile again, Kate would die happier than she ever had been, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to hold Venom back any longer.

She let him take the lead in her obsession, looking into every part of your life that the internet had to offer. She found where you grew up, details of your family, your favourite books and movies, anything she could squeeze out. Kate was sure that the universe wanted you to be hers when she got the notification that you had accepted her request to your private instagram, the one away from the prying eyes of your parents. Abandoning any shred of reason or dignity she had left, Kate got about an hour of sleep that night due to her endless scrolling of your instagram and any photos you were tagged in, Venom getting particularly rowdy when she came by a picture of you in a bikini on one of your friends accounts.

Kate’s plan to have you was set in motion the very next day, innocently asking you questions about yourself, ignoring the lecture and Professor Romanoff’s harsh warning glares. She learned a lot more about you than the internet ever could have given her, and you in turn learned some facts about Kate. You talked about your famile lives, Kate telling you that she was an only child who was raised by her mother, about hobbies, music, anything and everything Kate could absorb about you, and she cursed how the time flew by when Professor Romanoff informed the class that the lecture was over. Kate begrudgingly packed up her things, trying to take in as much of you as possible, as if she wouldn’t see you the very next morning. She slowly stood up when she noticed you had finished cramming your things into your backpack, and stood up to leave, but her footsteps came to an abrupt stop when you spat out a hurried invite to go to a bar with you and your friends that night. Kate spun around slowly, sure that she couldn’t have possibly heard you right, and she watched for a moment as you chewed on your lower lip, fighting over if you had made the right decision. But before you could retract the invitation in a hurried apology about how you hardly knew each other, ignoring the fact that you were ceratin you had told Kate every note-worthy thing about yourself in the last hour, Kate agreed. Her hands were shoved into her jacket pockets to prevent her from pumping her first in victory as you quickly scribbled down the address and time on a discarded piece of paper from a random students desk. Kate quickly made a grab for it as soon as your pencil had left the page, looking at it as if it were the Holy Grail, and to Kate, it was. She promised you that she would be there, the brunette already imagining seeing you that night, away from the stuffiness of the lecure halls, before sending you one last longing look and leaving you standing alone by your desk, watching her leave.

What Kate was unaware of was that you had your eye on her for weeks. Not nearly to the degree that Kate wanted you, but the second that you heard Professor Maximoff call out her name, you were looking her up on the schools website on your phone under the desk, intrigued by the new face showing up halfway through the semester. Your eyes nearly buldged out of their sockets when one of the first things you saw, aside from her grinning student ID picture, was Kate with a bow in her hands, looking as it was the most natural thing for the weapon to be there, with muscles straining against her long, fitted sleeves as she drew back her arrow, the headline under it detailing that she had brought another archery trophy home to the college. After that, your deep dive down the rabbit hole that was Kate Bishop was long and thorough, scouring through every mention in the schools website and news article - after ashemedly staring at her arms and hands on every picture for a good five minutes before eventually managing to tear yourself away. After weeks of pining after the star athlete, clinging to her every word when she answered a question or commented on the syllabus, or really anything she said, you could hardly believe your luck when she sat down next to you, your tunnel vision focused on the object of your latest fantasies not allowing you to feel worry for the boy that she elbowed away.

Kate was ecstatic that night as she pushed her way through the door of the bar, nervously tugging on the tie hung loosely around her neck. Venom had been berating her all night over her nerves, Kate rolling her eyes like a petulant child every time. He was right, of course. The deck was completely stacked in Kate’s favour, knowing every detail about you to make you putty in her hands, Still, she couldn’t help the anxiety nagging away at the back of her mind, as if she was about to go on a first date, worrying about impressions and the way she was dressed.

Kate could swear that all of the oxygen was sucked out of the room the second she saw you. You were dressed to the nine’s, especially for the dingy bar that you so regularly frequented, and there was a small bloom of hope within Kate that you had dressed up just for her. You certainly had never put so much effort in any other night you went out, and as far as Kate could see, she was the only change to your night.

Newfound confidence overtook Kate as she strode over to where you and your friends were clustered at the bar, unable to fight off her smirk as you immediately pulled your arm away from where it was slung around one of your friends shoulders, pulling the taller woman into a tight hug.

“You came!” You cheered, overjoyed at Kate’s arrival before pulling away from her, much to Kate’s disappointment, with a blush staining your cheeks, embarrassed at your sudden outburst of affection towards the girl you had only first talked to that afternoon, and Venom was quick to fill Kate’s thoughts of all the other things she could do to bring that redness to your face in other ways.

“Told you I would,” she smiled down at you instead.

It’s a miracle that Kate heard you ask her if she wanted a drink over the 80’s rock music playing from a corner somewhere, the conversations of different patrons that had all blended into one another, and the depraved thoughts clouding her mind. She stuttered out her usual drink order and you skipped off to find a bartender to make it for her, leaving Kate alone with your friends. She knew who they all were, of course, having fantised about watching the light leave most of their eyes after getting too close to you for Kate’s liking. Some looked at her with curiosity, while others with disdain, and Kate wondered why exactly it was that you invited her there.

“We could kill them all before anyone in here could even blink.”

Internally hissing at Venom to shut up, Kate turned her attention back to you. She spun around, completely ignoring the question one of your friends had finally voiced to her. She watched as you leaned over the bar, giggling at something the server had said to you, completely oblivious to the way the angle allowed Kate’s stare to hungrily devour the inches of cleavage that there exposed, angling herself to see down your dress as far as she could. Venom was screaming at her, screeching that now was the time to make their move. And for once, she listened to him.

You weren’t even aware of Kate’s determined gaze set on you, or the heavy foot falls of her boots against the wooden floor, until her hand wrapped around your bicep in a vice grip, dragging you away from whatever conversation that apparently was so hilarious the bartender was clutching his side. Kate promised Venom that they would see his blood before the night was over.

You made a sound of protest as you looked up to see that it was Kate who was dragging you across the bar, making a beeline for the exit. “Wh- Kate, what are you doing?” You questioned, tugging on your arm to try and free it from her bruising grip.

“I need to talk to you,” Kate all but growled out, dragging you through the door to the bar and into the cold New York night air, your short romper doing nothing to protect you from the bitter frost of the oncoming winter.

It was difficult enough having to watch you drape yourself over your friends from afar, watching through windows or scrolling through social media, sure that at least three of them wanted you, or at the very least wanted to fuck you, but watching it mere feet away from her was harder than Kate had predicted, Venom bringing out her baser instincts until all she wanted to do was press you against the nearest surface and claim you as hers and the symbiote’s marking you in front of everyone, anyone who had ever just layed eyes on you. She needed all of New York to know who you belonged to. But, despite Venom egging her on, even trying to take front seat and force her body into the movements, Kate couldn’t bring herself to do it. So, she settled for the next best thing, dragging you into the alley that was cracked between the bar and the next building.

Your questions didn’t cease until your back collided with the hard stone wall of the alley, Kate’s hard body caging you in, and she wasted no time crashing her mouth to yours.

It took a second for you to react, for your mind to process the sudden changes, but as soon as you did you were pressing yourself against Kate as much as you were able to, your hands coming up to her hair and tangling in her raven locks.

The kiss was a fight for dominance that Kate quickly won, slamming your arched back against the wall again, using your surprised and slightly pained yelp to allow her tongue to invade your mouth. You let her taste you, let her consume all of you, and it was the first time within your presence that Kate let her dams break and venom to slip through. She felt the slickness of his ‘flesh’ run down her arm, coating it, looking as if she had dipped it in a vat of tar. Kate’s hair moulded itself in your hands, although you were too preoccupied to notice, the already black locks flowing freely around her. It was only when you both pulled apart, the need for air separating you, that your eyes met hers and you saw that Kate’s were taken over by white.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Kate whispered to you, drawing circles where her hand had landed on you hip in an attempt to soothe you, feeling that Venom was breaking free and that you could clearly see that, but her voice was warped. The words were all Kate, Venom’s eagerly encouraging her to continue with the previous activities, but the voice that said them was broken and deeper, and it wasn’t the one you had swooned over a mere ten minutes ago.

“Kate, let go of me,” your voice was smaller, the cheerfulness replaced by fear. You had no idea what was wrong with Kate, but you had no intention of sticking around to find out.

“No,” the voice was harsher now, more deformed, as Kate and Venom both fought for the chance to speak, Kate’s biceps straining as she pushed you up against the wall more firmly, holding your hips in an unbreakable clamp. Any softness that was there before was gone in an instant. You watched as Kate allowed Venom to take the reigns and she ground up against you.

Closing in on you, her body caging you in and leaving nowhere for you to run, Kate moved one of her hands from your hip, up your body, until she got to the neckline of your romper, yanking it down and revealing the lace of your bra.

Kate pawed at your breasts over your bra, and even with her pupils and iris’ gone you could feel her eyes drinking you in.

“So fucking pretty,” you didn’t like the relief that coursed through you when it was purely Kate’s voice that reached your ears. Despite your desperation to run out of the alley and never see her again, her own voice much less terrifying that the distorted sound of Kate and Venom melding together

“All those people looking at you. Shit, baby, wanted to watch my arrows crack into their skull,” Kate’s tone was soft and tender, as if the words were meant to comfort and woo you, but they sent a shock of fear down your spine, the thought of Kate killing someone over you paralysing your every muscle, and Kate accentuated her point with roughly pulling your bra down, freeing your breasts, and you winced at the wire of your bra digging into the soft skin of your sides. “So, so pretty,” Kate repeated, her gaze devouring you whole. “And all mine.”

“Ours,” Venom immediately hissed in her ear, his screeching grating against her brain. “You would have never had her like this if it wasn’t for me.”

Kate just rolled her eyes, ignoring the symbiote, which most definitely didn’t rub him the right way, and you were sure the next words, in a different voice than the last two, came from someone other than Kate entirely.

“I could kill the archer and have you to all to myself.”

That voice was quickly crammed far in the back of Kate’s head, and any movement from her stopped entirely, her hands simply resting on your tits, her entire weight focused on smushing you against the wall behind you as a look of anger twisted its way onto Kate’s face. She was having a war inside her head that you were not privy to.

Minutes passed, and you began to wonder if Kate was going to keep you like this all night, pressed against the wall of an alleyway, breasts on display for any passerby who took a few steps into the shadows, with Kate towering silently above you.

You finally found it in yourself to try and wriggle out of Kate’s grasp, and this is what seemed to wake her from her stupor, her focus snapping back to you.

“Don’t listen to him, baby,” you fought back a cry of relief when Kate’s voice replaced the monstrous one that seemed to have dragged her into her subconscious. You weren’t exactly sure who he was, but you decided that you would much rather have Kate at the forefront than him. “He won’t take me away from you, not ever. No one’s gonna ever separate us again.”

Kate wasn’t sure when it was that she decided to keep you by her side from now on. As soon as she walked into the bar? When she saw you laughing with the bartender? When she felt your lips against hers for the first time? She really didn’t know, but she had decided, and, unbeknownst to you, a future without Kate by your side no longer existed.

#c: kate bishop #dark fic #dark kate bishop #my writing #mcu #kate bishop x reader #venom #dark venom #c: venom #s: venomkate #vemom x reader #sort of #kinktober #kinktober 2023

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shinyzango · 7 months ago

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So, about that "A Steampunk Carol" graphic novel...

I totally did not forget to make the post about it like I promised I am so sorry.

For those who are not familiar with it, long story short a while ago I came across a Kickstarter project for what seemed to be a steampunk adaptation of the Nutcracker story and was bummed that I missed out on it and wasn't able to support and secure a copy for myself, but a fella made me aware that it did actually get published in Italy a few years ago, and that it was sold on Amazon. And after discovering that there was literally only one copy left, I bought it on a whim to both read it and to hopefully attract more attention to it for reasons I'll discuss in just a bit.

I'm just going to say that I'm very back at writing reviews so apologies if this doesn't say anything at the end or if you didn't get the answers to your questions dkfjgn

Alright, now for the book itself.

First things first, the story. I won't go into details right now as I do not want to spoil folks in case this does get released in english to a wider public, but I can add a Spoilers section in the future where I explain in detail what happens if I get asked about it.

The story, like I said, is an adaptation of the Nutcracker And The Mouse King, but it is quite different in many elements, and spices things up quite a bit, especially after the introduction.

Sadly it feels quite rushed in its execution imo, I assume it's because they had to fit everything in a single volume. Which is a shame because there are many concepts and ideas that are very fascinating and interesting, both for the plot and for the characters themselves.

Speaking of the characters, they are quite unique and interesting.

The main kid, Caitlin, who is the Clara/Marie of the story, can be a little sassy, but she still feels grounded and has a good balance between putting down her foot and being nervous about the situation. I don't mind her character.

The Nutcracker, who is only called Schiaccia (just a shortened "Schiaccianoci" which is nutcracker in italian. I assume he's called Cracker in english if they kept that logic), feels solid. He's a loyal soldier, skilled but does show hints of insecurities. A good lad.

The mice are great as well, I'm really intrigued by the lore they cooked up for them, and the Mouse King is actually not bad, and I like what they did with his character.

There's also another supporting character, a tin soldier who goes by Sergeant Idle. He is basically a companion to the Nutcracker. He is basically a plot tool, helping with the backstory and moving the story forward, but not in a bad way. He's very enjoyable.

I would have loved to see them all explored further, but like I said it all feels rushed probably because it had to stick all in a single volume. I don't know if the authors ever considered this to become a series or if it's just a one-shot story, but I would honestly love to see this evolve into a series, if only because I love the characters and I would love to know more about the lore they cooked up for it more in detail, letting all the elements have the time to shine.

Moving on to the graphic...

I love Lorenza's art style. It looks very sketchy, with a clean roughness to it if that makes sense. And I really like all the designs of the characters.

(Apologies for the glares, I tried my hardest to limit them as much as possible. also ngl I'm giggling a little seeing how Schiaccia looks similar to my Hans skdfkjhn)

All in all, I really like this adaptation. It's unique and enjoyable, if only a little rushed.

Like I mentioned before, this was Kickstarted a while ago to get properly published in english. It was successfully funded and as far as I know, they're currently in the process of printing copies if not even shipping them for the backers. I still don't know if the folks at Last Ember Press are planning in making it available to purchase outsite the Kickstart, but I really hope so because I do think this deserves to be available to everyone.

#crappy review is crappy ksdjng #these are just my thoughts don't mind me #nutcracker #the nutcracker

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ciar-galyna · 3 months ago

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I don’t like uninvited guests…do I need to play exterminator?

}{ Gabrielle has arrived to the Ghost Groom Event!! }{

~~~~~

Voicelines :

🦋 Groovification : Come and burn little ghosts.

👻 Set Home Screen : This was all caused by Grim? Oh he is so getting an earful when this is all over.

🦋 Home Idle 1 : Would it be wise to keep Tractatori at bay? Probably...they're not that hungry anyways.

👻 Home Idle 2 : Marrying a ghost..I wonder what that would be like. I imagine you'd need to be dead for it to work though. If that is the case, we need to save Sophie ASAP.

🦋 Home Idle 3 : I'm not sure how much I like Yeray's plan of swapping places with Sophie...I'll help her however I can, but I don't know if that would solve the problem.

👻 Home, after Login : You know..we could probably just solve this by inviting Malleus and giving him the rundown of the situation, I’m sure he’d be more than happy to help Sophie. Or we get something that can banish ghosts. Either works.

🦋 Home Idle/Groovy : Once everything is finished and dealt with, I will be drowning myself in hot chocolate and taking a day or two to recharge and recover. Crowley can choke on a cactus if he complains to me.

👻 Home Tap 1 : I think I would appreciate this dress more if I wasn't snagged by some crabby maid ghost, insulted, and then forced to wear this instead. "Unsuitable attire" my butt. My dorm outift fit the theme..roughly.

🦋 Home Tap 2 : I think I saw a wedding cake. Can ghosts even eat food?

👻 Home Tap 3 : Why is it when something happens Ramshackle is always involved?

🦋 Home Tap 4 : I might not like the circumstances, but at least the decorations are nice…I don’t have to clean up all of it, do I? Please no, I really don’t have the patience for that this time.

👻 Home Tap 5 : I sometimes wonder if Soren has it easier at the RSA. He doesn’t seem to have an overly exciting life there..*sigh* I like adventures, but this is getting draining. I’d ask if he wants to swap places, but I think it’s a little late for that.

🦋 Home Tap/Groovy : What an interesting turn of events...

👻 Duo Magic : Shall we end this?

~~~~~

Random Bonus Notes! (A.K.A : my ramblings in point form, you don't have to read this.)

I used a wheel to decide what the rarity would be, it was 2/3 too. A great tool for anyone who's feeling indecisive btw. ~

I don't know how some people draw sometimes, but I tried! And honestly I think it turned out pretty good. Also, some of you guys are quick! It took me like a week to draw this lol. ~

Yes she is sitting on a grave/headstone. No I probably didn't shade it correctly (sorry). Yes she is holding a lamppost, it has something fire-like inside though. ~

Am I bit overly ambitious in design and planning? Very much so. And I'm pretty sure that I'm better at backgrounds than anatomy, then again I've never drawn people super often. Speaking of, I'll probably post the dress design, possibly the graveyard, later so you can see what I was using as reference and to see how overboard I am sometimes.

~~~

Some Long-ish Lore Notes!

This is one of my Ramshackle OCs, she is a 2nd Year and the *Housewarden (shocker). ^*I'm not saying Prefect because calling Yeray 'Vice Prefect' sounds a little weird, plus Ramshackle is a little more populated in my version. ~

Mentioned OCs : Yeray | 2nd Year, based on the character Yzma (from Emperor's New Groove), Vice Housewarden, responsible schemer. I might make a card for him...I dunno though. Soren | 2nd Year, from Gabrielle & Tractatori's world too, attending RSA, sunshine incarnate. ~

For anyone wondering about Tractatori, It's kinda hard to explain them, so the gist of it is they're like Venom, only they're a mysterious entity that's almost like the boogeyman where my OC is from. ^*Yes I know the name is weird, it's Latin, and from my research, means 'manipulator'. Take that with a grain of salt though. ~

Well this took me a bit, but thank you thank you for checking this out and thank you to @gl00myb3arz for making this event! I hope you enjoyed. Have a lovely day/night! ~ If you'd like to check out the fanevent more, just check out @gl00myb3arz or the hastag 'GhostGroom!!!'.

#GhostGroom!!!#twst oc #twisted wonderland #twst

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diodellet · 2 years ago

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the kindest place to place a kiss (jamil viper x gn!reader)

@mochimiyaas tagged me in this post and now i am double-buried under these Gushy Gooey Feelings and thought of uno reversing jamil (ignore that last tag...life came up and hit me in the face with a metal bat that's my only reason for posting this late *punts my impostor syndrome across the ocean*) content warnings: light descriptions of kitchen injuries ++lots of loving and physical affection, established relationship shenaniganery. mildly unbeta'd all mistakes are mine. word count: 1.06k words

Jamil Viper was indifferent to pain. Getting splattered by cooking oil, handling hot pans and plates, getting nicked by knives, these were only the usual occurrences that came with working in the kitchen. A fraction of what constituted his daily life.

It could be said he was indifferent to anything and everything less than pain. The life he led had no room for such.

Not to say that he held pride for his position in life, but he was (unwillingly) secure in the knowledge of what he had.

That was what he thought, before you tumbled into his life.

It started slowly, with little gestures of concern: helping out here and there with chores, stealing Kalim away when Jamil’s patience was about to boil over, offering a pack of medicated pain-relief patches. Little things that he wasn’t expecting to receive.

(Maybe it was the way that you were attuned to him—the things he would brush over in favor of his other obligations—that these feelings started developing.)

One good turn deserves another, doesn’t it?

He made sure to return these gestures, under the guise of offering a helping hand. (Jamil doesn’t mention aloud how it almost felt natural to work side-by-side with you.)

People just sort of…assumed you were already together. So it wasn’t really a surprise when the both of you decided to make the relationship official.

Which was good, the both of you were already left to your own discretion. Save for the initial embarrassment that came with breaking the news, it was good.

Nothing much changed, outwardly. You saw each other whenever your schedules allowed for it (usually at Scarabia).

The most important thing was being able to spend time together. To share in these brief idle moments where the both of you weren’t busy with your responsibilities for the day.

That doesn’t mean he was free of those—little insecurities—worming their way into his thoughts.

He asks you, “doesn’t it get boring, being with me?” Waiting for Jamil to finish cleaning up, to finish making his final checks around the dorm.

“No, not at all.” You shake your head, before adding, “I’d be fine as long as I get to see you.”

Jamil ignores how that simple admission makes his heart skip a beat. Playing off his fluster with a roll of his eyes. “So you’d be fine with exchanging greetings and moving on for the rest of your day? That’s nice to know.”

Your expression doesn’t change. Though you take a few seconds to formulate a response. “I suppose I’d be fine, I mean—I don’t want to get in the way of your work,” you say.

“Though I would… miss you terribly,” you add as an afterthought. And you have the audacity to sound bashful.

The only reaction you would notice is the brief moment his eyes widen in surprise and the reflexive twitch of his hand itching to tug on the drawstrings of his hoodie.

Okay, maybe that was his cue to stop fussing over work for today.

Quality time together was different in the privacy of Jamil’s room. At least, in here, he felt free enough to be less guarded. To hold you close and to return your affections in full.

(For just a moment, he was free to shed his facade as a retainer.)

One thing to know about Jamil Viper: he is touch-starved.

Grown up too fast, taught to care for another over himself, resigned to his fate—no matter how much he rationalized it, these long-ingrained thoughts would reach a point where it became overwhelming.

So when you welcome him into your arms, whenever you sit close together, or when he lets you undo his braids, it all melts away with your touch.

When you ask him for help with a difficult problem in your coursework, he is absolutely draping himself over you and leaning against your shoulder.

When there’s soft music playing in the background, he is absolutely resting his hands on your waist as you sway in time with the beat.

And when you’re staying over for the night (an increasing occurrence), he’s absolutely trapping hugging you in his arms.

(Or just hug him instead. He won’t admit it aloud, but he likes the feeling of security that being the little spoon brings.)

It’s almost… strange how calm his thoughts run when you’re cuddled against him, resting your head against the top of his chest.

Tentatively, Jamil reaches a hand out. The tips of his fingers grazing against the curve of your cheek. At the contact, you meet his eyes. Wide, anticipating, trusting.

He lightly pinches the skin in between his fingers. It's irritatingly endearing how you watch him with that look.

The gesture elicits a short laugh from you and you lean into his palm. The action reminds him of an affectionate cat.

But it’s this—the gentle press of your lips against his skin, a gesture so light and faint—that it sets his nerves alight, that it makes his heart somersault.

“What are you doing?” Code for: why are you suddenly being this bold?

“Nothing, I just…love your hands,” you reply without missing a beat.

Your next kiss is pressed against the back of Jamil’s fingers, atop another faint scar. “They’re pretty. Like you,” you say, while cradling his hand in your palms.

“Flatterer.” But he makes no move to pull away from you.

Instead of growing shy, you press another kiss to his inner wrist. “It’s true though. Every part of you is pretty.”

Jamil doesn’t know what to say in response. He’s watching you, trying not to shiver as you tuck a lock of his hair behind his ear.

A gentle kiss to his neck, the side of his jaw, atop his nose, against his cheek, the corner of his mouth—

Is this what you’re holding yourself back from, whenever you saw each other during the day?

You never ran out of heartfelt praises, but hearing them—whispered softly into his skin, accompanied with your earnest gaze—was a different matter altogether.

(It’s nice to have someone put away his doubts.)

But don’t think that Jamil would take all of this lying down.

The moment you meet his lips, he’s cupping the back of your head, savoring the surprised noise you make and drawing out the kiss for longer.

After all, it’s only fair that he gets to be affectionate with you too, right?

A/N: lowkey got a bit paranoid to throw this ramble in a reblog so i decided to improv a bit and make this its own post HUHUHUHU NE WAY the key takeaway here is that jamil viper should be the little spoon more!! he deserves to be held!!!!! aaagh!!!! i have one more draft to chip away at.... let's hope i get to post it during this month....(or next month knowing how my uni sched is getting a bit more busy) 🥴🥴title is from this song, hahaha help i have too many feelings. tagging my fellow jamil simp hi lods hihi😇😇: @merotwst

#dellet-writings #twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #jamil viper #jamil viper x reader #g/n reader

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dandelion-wings · 5 months ago

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For the ask meme, Jean and Venti? :>

Thank you for the ask! :>

JEAN

How I feel about this character

This should be no surprise to anyone, but I adore her. #1 absolute favorite Genshin character, bar none. She's already an archetype I love (honorable lady knight torn between duty/family and her own desires, bonus points for blondness; see also, FE3H Ingrid), enough so that the friend who got me into Genshin lured me in with her ("read the manga at least until you get to Jean, and if you like her, you have to start playing"), and a lot of her individual characteristics are also deeply endearing to me. I am not rational about Jean. She is my beloved precious blorbo who can do no wrong and I will write out her flaws and make her perfect if I want to, and I will write her outmatching and one-upping the male characters who are supposed to be just as or more cool, and I will write her whump and fluff and hurt/comfort where everyone goes "oh we have been unfair to Jean, let us rush to care about her," and I feel no shame on any of these points. I am holding her up and showing her to everyone like a beloved pet.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

Okay, so, the thing about me is that I usually make my favorite character a fandom bicycle because I just like seeing how I think they'd interact with other characters I like? I have at least idle shipping thoughts about Jean and... so much of the rest of Genshin. But my primary ships for her are most of the other Knights of Favonius, particularly any combo, OTP or OT3 or OT4, of Lisa, Kaeya, and Eula, with some particularly energetic mental dabbling (less likely to make it on the page) in Jean/Ningguang, Jean/Rosaria, Jean/Diluc, and Jean/Sara. Those are probably the ones outside the OT4 and its permutations that I'm most likely to actively play with without some outside trigger or inspiration!

My non-romantic OTP for this character

See above, just without the kissing. That said, I think everyone knows it's Jean and Kaeya. XD And beyond that the platonic relationships within the OT4!

My unpopular opinion about this character

I... am not sure I have one? The people I choose to follow have Good Opinions, and I do not follow people with Bad Opinions so I don't know how popular they are (also I don't go into her main tag because main character tags get SO spammed with 'this character appeared once briefly in the background of this comic' sorts of tags. I follow individual artists and the rarepair tags). I like to think she could take Diluc, I guess? Who often gets presented in fanon and a little bit in canon as the Ultimate Mondstadt badass.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

More cool action scenes! And also FIXING HER RELATIONSHIP WITH BARBARA.

---

VENTI

How I feel about this character

I like him! I have somehow ended up following and being followed by many Venti fans who love him much more intensely, and he's one of those characters I already like enough that I can be enjoyably swept up in that love, such that for the duration of the post I'm reading or the discussion we're having, I love him just as much. Then it goes back to 'sure, he's cool and I enjoy seeing him'. :> Which I definitely do.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

Venti isn't a fandom bicycle for me just because he's not in my top faves, but he definitely would have the potential if he was. >> That said, Dvalin, Zhongli, and Xiao are the only people I regularly seek out pairing content with him for; I enjoy incidentally seeing him with pretty much any of the world's other immortal/long-lived-non-human characters and all the now-dead past character's he's been with, and he's fun with a lot of the Mondstadt characters as well. Honorable mention to Jean/Venti for occupying the same mental space as Venti himself: a pairing I'm not personally invested in but, while I'm talking to @esmeraldablazingsky and/or reading their stuff, am temporarily 110% high-enthusiasm about.

My non-romantic OTP for this character

Broadly speaking, his various friends over the centuries and, currently, especially Dvalin, but I will admit that my Thing for Jean means that I am most fascinated with his relationship with her (the only person in canon who knows him in both his forms and is still respectful! XD) and, by extension, Gunnhildrs of the past.

My unpopular opinion about this character

I again don't know enough about general fandom opinion to have one. XD;; Most of my opinions about Venti are accumulated from the people I follow who love him, and I haven't seen any general popular ones among them that I disagree strongly with!

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

I put "Venti takes the Traveler to Celestia, or at least gives them a very strong hint and boost" in a lot of my speculative endgame scenarios because I feel like there are hints in canon that it COULD be what happens, and I really really hope that it WILL be. It feels like how the narrative around him should pay off, to me.

#why not meme i guess #asked and answered #someone please give jean a nap #venti did you pay for that whine

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witchywomanrunningupthathill · 2 years ago

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Presume Not That I Am What I Once Was - The King (2019)

Pairing: Prince Hal/Henry V x female!reader

Description: You and Hal fall for each other as both of your realities come crashing down, all at once.

Word count: 801

Warnings: mentions of sex, female anatomy and allusion to pregnancy, supporting character death (?)

A/N: Hiii! Long author’s note warning. It’s been so long since I’ve posted on here. Of course the first fic I write on return is about the love of my life, Prince Hal. Now, for the record, I will always, ALWAYS see Tom Hiddleston as Hal. Full stop. #HollowCrownSuperiority. But yesterday, I was looking at scenes from The King (with which I take great issue, but we aren’t ready for that conversation) and the visuals (read: Timmy’s face) were giving way too much for me not to be inspired to write about such a complex, clever, and conflicted character. Soooooo here’s 800-ish words about our beloved prodigal son/wayward prince turned King of England. Oh, also, right below here is *probably* my favorite Shakespeare monologue. Very revealing (and confounding) of Hal, and what made me fall in love with this character. <3

Henry IV Act I, Scene ii

PRINCE

I know you all, and will awhile uphold The unyoked humor of your idleness. Yet herein will I imitate the sun, Who doth permit the base contagious clouds To smother up his beauty from the world, That, when he please again to be himself, Being wanted, he may be more wondered at By breaking through the foul and ugly mists Of vapors that did seem to strangle him. If all the year were playing holidays, To sport would be as tedious as to work, But when they seldom come, they wished-for come, And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents. So when this loose behavior I throw off And pay the debt I never promisèd, By how much better than my word I am, By so much shall I falsify men’s hopes; And, like bright metal on a sullen ground, My reformation, glitt’ring o’er my fault, Shall show more goodly and attract more eyes Than that which hath no foil to set it off.

You didn’t know it would be the last time. The last time you would hear the voice he never used around anyone else but you, tender, caring, adoring. The last time you would see him grin like he did when he was too far gone from drink, euphorically gleeful. The last time you would ever be able to touch him. Here, he wasn’t the Prince of Wales; he was Hal.

You weren’t expecting to feel the way you did about him. The way your heart beat faster each time he swaggered into the Boar’s Head Inn. The knot in the pit of your stomach when you’d come downstairs to find Sibyl perched on the prince’s lap with his hand ‘round her waist. You kept your eye trained on him every night, gambling and singing and fucking the night away.

At first, it was just like any other lay with the drunken, unkempt men that passed their time here. Just bodies moving together. Over time he visited Sibyl less and less, and wasted no time pulling you upstairs. He would stay the whole night and hold onto you in his sleep.

He wasn’t expecting to traipse around Eastcheap only for his mind to wander back to you. Back to the conversations you two shared in that Spartan single-room apartment after it was all over, the both of you laying entangled atop sweat-soaked sheets. He loved watching you gaze at him in the candlelight as he murmured tales of his antics with Falstaff and Poins, almost always punctuated with the faint grunts, cries, and rhythmic banging and rocking from all around, a prelude to another round of lovemaking.

It was the night after his father, Henry IV, had succumbed to the pox. Hal wasn’t gentle this time. He fucked hard, the rocking making you nauseous at one point, not that he would have noticed because he had kept his eyes closed the whole time. You wondered what was going on in his head. You wondered when you would summon the strength to tell him. Hal thrusted and thrusted, but it was all for naught. His moans turned to whimpers. He collapsed beside you; head buried in the crook of your neck as he broke into a sob.

“Hey, hey,” you said, turning to him and pulling him into you, your hand cradling the back of his head. His breath came out in warm huffs and tears seeped onto your breast.

“My father...” Hal mumbled. You pulled his face up to yours, thumbs wiping the tears from his bloodshot eyes. He looked tragically beautiful. While you cursed yourself for what was to come, Hal replayed his words to his father’s councilors. Know now that you will be watched over by an altogether different king. Hal assumed – no, he knew – his father saw him as nothing but a royal pain. His thoughts were interrupted by your quiet groan. You winced and looked down, hand to your lower stomach. Hal’s eyes followed. You hadn’t meant to let out a sound, jerking your hand back down to the bed. In fact, you had been good at hiding it. Or so you thought. Your eyes traveled slowly back up and you met your lover’s gaze. You’d never seen so many thoughts go on behind someone’s eyes, grief, trepidation, yearning, remorse… You held each other as hard as you had the very first time, a goodbye of sorts. But that was the thing about goodbyes, endings – no one ever shared them for the same reason.

Snow fell the day Hal became King Henry V of England. The Abbey bells rang out around London. Your hand slid to your belly instinctively and gazed at the city from your window, just barely making out the palace in the distance.

#the king 2019 #the king netflix #prince hal x reader #the king #henry v x reader #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet fic #henry v x oc #henry v x ofc #iz writes

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completely-real-and-normal-human · 2 years ago

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Why I, Tumblr User Completely-Real-And-Normal-Human, Am a Monsterfucker: A Non-Exhaustive Manifesto

I’m not even sorry.

First of all: Micheal Distortion, from TMA. Fuck-Hands Mc Mike. Mikey-What-Those-Fingers-Do. He of the gaping corridors, and hopefully gaping holes. What on earth is he doing behind all those closed doors? Or, as the case may be, who is he doing?

the answer is me it’s me he’s fucking me

(Art by CountSlimula on Twitter)

I don’t really think I need to explain myself here. But in case I do, there are two main things I find remarkably attractive about Micheal (that I can adequately articulate): its voice and its hands.

Let’s start with his voice. Micheal’s voice is static-y and warping and always slightly amused. Now THAT is the kind of voice I’d want whispering sweet nothings in my ear. And that’s without even mentioning his laugh — god, can you even IMAGINE what his moans would sound like? Perfection.

Then there’s his hands. You can’t really see it in the first picture, so here’s another one.

(Art by Creativelea2 on Twitter)

He has fingers. I have holes. Enough said, I think.

Next, also a character from TMA, we have one Jared Hopworth. The Bone-Turner. Maker of Menacingly Meaty Murmurs. A man who owns, in all likelihood, a briefcase of carefully selected cocks.

(Art by @neonjawbone)

I’m sure it comes as a surprise to no one that I thoroughly enjoy a good pair of pecs. Jared probably has more than one pair, actually, so that’s several plus points right there. Here, finally, is a man who does body-building right.

As with Micheal, there is also the question of his voice. It’s deep, rumbling, gravelly… the kind of thing I want to hear when he’s busy splitting me in half, you know?

Finally, there’s the multiple limbs. He’d know what to do with all those hands, I’m sure. They’d hardly be lying idle.

Onwards! This time it’s Yaretzi, from Hello From The Hallowoods. Starwolf. Covenant of Tolshetol Who Guards A Thousand Suns. Loving coparent of a large metal son.

(Art by @cotton-glass)

She’s a werewolf, which maybe puts her more into ‘furry’ territory rather than ‘monsterfucker’, but we ball.

Firstly, while Yaretzi is an undeniably sweet person, she’s also fairly terrifying. And ‘women who could kill me’ are fairly high on my list of attractions. Secondly, her voice (again, I know, but most of the media I consume are podcasts so deal, I guess). It’s just the right shade of deep and soft. Amazing.

Also I want her to bite me.

There are more examples, but we’ll be here forever if I try listing them, so I’ll leave it there. I could go into detail about the deeper meaning behind my attraction to these beautiful beasties, but I’m going to see how the masses respond to this first. Besides, this has been in my drafts for entirely too long and I just want to post it at this stage.

(Shoutout to @zombieesc. Thanks for the monsterfucker hype, my friend.)

Edit: I’m a minor, so feel free to rb this post talking about how much you like any of the characters I’ve mentioned, but keep it reasonably PG.

#micheal distortion #micheal shelley #tma #jared hopworth #hfth yaretzi #hfth #monster fucker #here it is my lovelies #enjoy #aubrey says stuff

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kafkaoftherubble · 1 year ago

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再谈JJK 236五条悟的心理刻画// I want to talk about Gojo's psychology in chapter 236 again

I'm quite happy to say that my thoughts on CH236 have evolved—even if I still greatly dislike many of its executions, pacing, logic, and other storytelling issues. Previously, one of the things that really pissed me off is the character derailment Gojo Satoru suffered in CH236.

I'd mentioned before that the idea of the afterlife dream sequence is massively appealing to me. It's just that there are so many little things in it that sounded wrong enough that in the end, I wondered if I was looking at Mahito's Idle Transfiguration at work. As one person familiar with the JP side of Twitter reportedly saw (take it with a reasonable grain of salt for there is no link to the tweet, but no big deal): "Gojo sensei didn't just die, it feels like his soul was killed as well."

However, unlike many detractors, my gripes were not centered on "Gojo dickriding Sukuna jobber mindset." I actually think the self-deprecation was perfectly valid for the human Satoru (my previous rant had more details on this). I thought it was humanizing to see him freely admitting his vulnerabilities.

I was more offended at his downplaying his achievements as though he never had a chance. I thought someone who was as enlightened as he is in judging a person's strengths and weaknesses should be better at assessing his own feats instead of sounding like my pathetic ass whenever I talk about myself. I know I have a rather abysmal self-esteem issue, but nothing in the story indicated Satoru as possessing that trait. That loss of measured self-assessment was one of the things that made me reel. But after reading some comments on this Reddit post, I've come to realize I forgot a very important piece of context:

This is Satoru after he lost.

Being the strongest was, by all the web of causes around him (his birth, the way people regard him, the things people keep pointing out about him, the system's assessment of him, etc.), a huge part of Satoru's sense of self. It did not necessarily matter if he himself truly believed "being the strongest" was all there was to him. See, even in the real world, there is no "true self" (yes, "there is no self" is one of my most steadfast scientific +/philosophical stances). There is, however, a social self; a person's sense of self is porous and dependent on the environment and society (which can break up into communities) they exist in, and it reflects back to the person who comes to accept it as their own personal narrative. Being the strongest was part of Satoru's fable; the world around him even decided that it was his raison d'être.

So when he lost, it dealt a really hard blow to his understanding of who he believed he was. It didn't matter if he was enlightened in his judgment of people. One of the statements everyone, including himself, had taken as a fact had just been completely disproven. Why wouldn't he then express doubt on the rest of the "I am the strongest" narrative? Why wouldn't he start to become skeptical of his strengths and feats, to the point of seeing the opponent who bested him as more powerful than Sukuna really was?

It's just another glimpse into his humanity. Who among us feels not a shred of self-doubt when we fail at what we believed we were good at?

In this light, it became easier for me to reappraise his expression of doubt.

--------

There was a part when he made it sound as though he was trying to reach out to Sukuna and shit "all along", seemingly at the expense of his students, colleagues and adopted son. Make no mistake, the omission of his students and the goals Satoru made as himself (instead of as "the strongest") in this afterlife dream thingy is still bad.

Reaching out to Sukuna, though? I don't think it's necessarily OOC.

See, Satoru shared many traits and inspirations from Shakyamuni, the historical Buddha. In line with those references, it's my interpretation that Satoru does not actually exhibit egoism—I know, it runs counter to the dominant understanding of Gojo's psychology in the JJK community—but self-less-ness.

Not selflessness as in "altruism", but anattā--one of the Buddha's realizations upon his awakening (and again, a concept I strongly support. My best friend can tell you how much I talk about this. Hell, my blog description says as much). The way I see it, Satoru's confidence in himself is no different from his confidence in other people—it's all rooted in what he perceives this given "person" is capable of. To him, "Satoru" is simply another person who happens to be really good at a lot of things and so deserves to be praised and uplifted as anyone else who's good at what they do; the fact that this person happens to be himself is irrelevant*.

*Note: I once had a YouTube comment discussion with someone, who was surprisingly knowledgeable on Buddhist philosophy, regarding the blurry line between selfishness and selflessness in Gojo. It was great; we discussed anattā and śūnyatā and ended at the Mādhyamaka (Mahayana) school. There, I expounded on why I interpret Satoru as "self-less" instead of "enlightened selfishness" in greater detail. I intend to transcribe it and preserve it here someday. Not now, though!

When I put that understanding into CH236's context, it no longer shocks me to see Gojo wanting to reach out to Sukuna. For a self-less being, there are no distinctions between them ("them-self") and other beings ("other selves"). They are all psychocausal processes in the form of persons. Sukuna is, therefore, "another person" in Satoru's eyes.

Sukuna is a person who's the strongest in his time and was worshipped and feared—not seen as human but as a calamity embodied in a living creature. Note that Satoru's empathy for Sukuna didn't make him condone Sukuna's way of living as "the strongest" (i.e. hedonistic egoist) even in his bare-my-soul afterlife sequence; he merely expressed an understanding of Sukuna's psychology. That understanding led to Satoru expressing compassion to a person who was burdened by being too strong at the top—it was even doubly easy for him to empathize because of Satoru's own lived experience. You can see why Satoru then tried to alleviate Sukuna's suffering in a way he believed could work: giving his all, through humor, etc. These are likely what Satoru wanted someone else to do for him.

You can trace this same attitude in the way he mentored his students. He didn't hold back much (ask Yuta and Hakari again how it feels to be punched by their sensei). He regaled his students (and sometimes colleagues) with excessive humor. He was unabashedly "giving his all"—his childishness and "annoying narcissistic ass" and insanity—to those he especially believed to be liable for being lonely, whether it's because of strength or perceived danger (Yuta, Yuji), circumstances (Yuji, Megumi), life experience (Maki, Nobara), mindset (Nanami, Hakari), etc. It could be gleaned even as far back as his interaction with Riko Amanai when he started to see her less as a job and more as "a person", and so recognized the sort of isolation and alienation Riko was starting to feel as a Star Plasma Vessel. He did the same thing with her—trying to alleviate her suffering through what he believed was best. And yes, he gave his all even back then (no sleep for 3 days, guys.)

---------

Gah the translator for this chapter is fucking amazing! I'm jealous! Also, "I love everyone" is poignant, I think, as it paralleled what was in his head during his awakening ("I don't hate anyone.")

The choice Gege made in depicting the "flower" as lotuses has become subject to various theories. After all, it symbolizes rebirth in some cultures and interpretations. I think it's a valid point for his comeback theories (though I dare not allow myself to hope), but those aside, I actually simply thought of it as yet another allusion to Satoru's connection to Sakyamuni.

Pink lotuses symbolize Buddhahood—a bloomed one is a Buddha; a bud is a Buddha in the making. In Mahayana Buddhism, everyone supposedly has a Buddha nature and is therefore capable of liberation the way Sakyamuni did. They simply need the knowledge (dhamma)... and The Noble's Eightfold Paths/The Noble Eightfold Path taught by a teacher, of course. Gotta subscribe to the course, aye?

This translation actually made me realize that yes, Satoru did mention his students... in a very annoyingly subtle way.

I don't think these lotuses refer to himself. I think they refer to his students.

Hear me out. His goal has always been to raise a generation that could all be strong, so that no one has to be lonely again... including Gojo Satoru (a.k.a. himself), because this would be a world that no longer needs him. To match it with the Buddhist allegory: Satoru, "the Buddha", is trying to raise all of these lotus flowers ("buddhas-in-making") to bloom.

He can make his students bloom (his goal of raising them). He can admire his students (he's proud of them). But he cannot tell his students to "understand him."

Ultimately, he seems to think his students—or anyone, really—don't actually understand how lonely it is to be up here. He doesn't resent it ("I don't feel lonely now"), but it's still an experience that predisposed him to find some resonance in Sukuna. I find it plausible that perhaps, in Satoru's mind, Sukuna is no different from his students in some regards. It certainly fits the trait of a Buddha/Boddhisattva—to be capable of compassion even to creatures and beings most of us wouldn't be.

(Or maybe this feeling comes even more easily considering the fact that Sukuna is wearing Megumi's face.)

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

Now, I know this is already a long read, but my evolved thoughts are not done yet! This is concerning what I previously saw as the biggest character assassination: Nanami and Haibara's comment on Satoru's character. They basically painted him as a dude who really just did it for his pleasure and no loftier goals. The fact that Satoru didn't even deny it was just crap.

But someone pointed out that the face he made was a frown—Satoru was actually upset that this was what Nanami believed.

Now, I've always been crap at discerning emotions, which extend to expressions. I've interpreted his expression as Satoru feeling embarrassed for being called out or accused. But honestly, it also makes sense to think that this is Satoru frowning at the fact that he's still being misunderstood even after death. He likely didn't bother to correct Nanami because he rather asked Nanami how he felt when he died.

And that, I think, actually dives into heavy meta.

A sizeable number of those who decry Satoru as OOC in his death were upset that the man didn't show his signature self-assuredness, arrogance, and "winner mindset" (this is the gripe I personally disliked the most because it's close to turning Satoru into this Alpha Male egoist role model), and is all-around "acting like a jobber." It's as if they like Satoru because he's the strongest—not because he's Gojo Satoru.

Some, meanwhile, were seething to see him praising Sukuna and trying to reach out to him, calling it OOC glazing, meatriding, etc.

Even those who like him for his character and traits, such as myself, ended up upset at what we believed Satoru was not showing.

Satoru is showing a side of his humanity and it was confusing to a lot of us in big and small ways, for different reasons. A good chunk of it is still, I maintain, the problem with Gege's execution.

But in a meta-sense...

It kinda shows that we don't understand him completely either.

We're kinda being Nanami here. We think we get Gojo Satoru, but then sometimes, we don't... at least not until we try to understand him on his own terms.

What's Gojo famous for?

For being the strongest, most handsome motherfucker who's cool and cocky as fuck with cool-ass OP powers and all that meme-worthy stuff.

He's famous for being Gege's "most hated character," for the jokes about him having zero personality, etc.

Famous for being MAPPA's golden child with glossy ass lips and eyes that burden their animating budget.

He's sexy and hot; fuck did you see what he did to Jogo in Shibuya? He's feral and insane; fuck did you see what he did to Hanami? Or that time he turned Toji into a donut? He's bombastic and larger than life.

He sometimes feels unreal, like an alien. Some people hate him, and some people adore him to bits.

But it takes some digging and analysis for us to realize that Gege lied about him having no personality. Because Satoru is one of the most fleshed-out characters he's ever created. He had more human sides to him that surprised even us—we didn't know he was capable of self-deprecation. We didn't know he was so compassionate he tried to reach out to the villain as if he was Naruto fucking Uzumaki. We suspected other things, like his loneliness at the top, but most of us believed Satoru was more gleeful and smug about being at the top than being angsty about it.

Maybe this was what Gege was trying to do. Or...maybe he didn't intentionally try to do this, and simply fumbled and messed up his way to genius meta-hood (honestly who knows by this point).

Either way, CH236 could be read as an experiment on how right Satoru was about him never being understood. There are just that many larger-than-life projections/assumptions imposed on him—with "he's the strongest" as the most dominant narrative. He was a "living creature" experiencing alienation and dehumanization, even when surrounded and loved by his admirers and supporters, despite sharing everyone's common thread of the human condition.

All he could do when we argued about how weird he was because he didn't fit what we believed... was to frown and move on.

---------

Extra thought:

I know it's a conspiracy theory by this point that Gege did Satoru dirty because Gojo is his least favorite character, but I really think Gege is joking. If CH236 sucks in its execution of Gojo's afterlife sequence, it's because Gege hasn't been doing emotional beats and characterization well for a long time by now. Not because he hates Gojo.

Think about it—Gege hasn't cared to pause the battle for some deep-cut emotional shit since the Culling Game arc, and yet CH236 is where the battle takes the backstage (so backstage it's a fucking OFFSCREEN DEATH. COME ON, GREG!). Every panel in that chapter was drawn with details and care, and he took a step back from the fighting just to give Gojo even more characterization and flesh.

Guys, I really think Gege loves Gojo.

Him bashing Gojo is him teasing Gojo the way Gojo teases other people like Utahime and Nanami and Megumi. He doesn't really know how to show his love for Gojo in the manga because his executions do miss, but I think he crafted Gojo lovingly. He fucking loves him. I think I'm actually willing to bet on this.

----

The evolution of my CH236-centric ramble goes from here, to here, to this. I also wanna shout out to the answer in that Reddit post that helped me understand the emotional beat of CH236 better (which allowed me to realize something else). I don't have a Reddit account though. I ghost-read!

Thank you for reading my ramble.

#writing this gave me a migraine; good thing I'm going to sleep after this #once again I have no originality and am only capable of mixing and matching ideas from other people #but as a friend on Tumblr once said: everyone does that more or less. I can only hope I'm competent this time too #my head hurt but the ramble itself was quite exhilarating #I hope the length is not a deterrent #man what happened to me being a To Your Eternity essayist #jjk 236 #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jjk meta #Kafka's Buddhism hammer to all nails

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yerbamansa · 10 months ago

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Writing Patterns - First & Last Sentences

Tagged by @thetragicallynerdy - thanks for the tag! This was fun! You got me to make a tumblr post for the first time in a thousand years!

Editing to add @petrichorca for tagging me in the first part of the game - consider yourself tagged back for corresponding last lines?

I’m just combining two things because that seems handy.

Rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern! Then list the last line of the same 10 fics you shared opening lines for and see if there's a pattern!

1. the secret middle-aged sad-sack mostly bad vibes I can sing along to playlist

First: Some things don’t change.

Last (most recent): Why the fuck, then, do they start sobbing?

2. the way things are going

First: Since things started falling apart, Oluwande learned the hard way to be careful about who to trust.

Last (most recent): Once he got it open, he read aloud: “‘Dear community and/or individuals, my name is Stede Bonnet…’”

3. Welcome to Jeff’s Inn by the Sea | Innkeeper Roleplay ASMR | Personal Attention | Realistic | Soft Spoken Male Voice

First: When Stede Bonnet’s boyfriend casually mentioned wanting to try making ASMR videos, he was all in.

Last: “I’ll have to think about that one, dearest,” he decided.

4. Rock On To The Oceanside

First: Ed Teach wasn’t built for sitting idle.

Last (most recent): And Ed felt ready.

5. Plus Ones

First: “So how did you two meet?”

Last: “Probably even better luck if we do it again.”

6. you can move in light divine

First: Oluwande had always loved Jim, probably from the moment they met.

Last: So many more conversations to come.

7. due to a controllable irregularity

First: It had been a good week, but Stede was looking forward to going home.

Last: He’d tell him. Soon.

8. an atypical emotional response to common sounds

First: Stede Bonnet had a complicated relationship with sounds.

Last: Stede couldn’t wait for Saturday.

9. Stede has started shopping for your order

First: “Your GetMeGroceries shopper Stede has arrived at Jenkins Market!” the app informed Ed.

Last: For the moment, however, he had far more compelling priorities.

10. I Think I See The Light

First: Jackie’s traded her usual vivid reds for somber black, but she still looks every bit the part of the intimidating pirate queen.

Last: And they start humming a now-familiar tune as they scan the docks for a recognizable face: If you want to sing out, sing out…

NB: skipped one that’s a mostly abandoned group collab smau because that doesn’t seem indicative of my style, and there’s one here that needed the preceding sentence because otherwise it’s just one word.

Hmmm, so, self-analysis: I start with some kind of place-setting thesis statement. Sometimes it’s maybe a little in medias res, but not usually, I guess. The POV character is named more often than not. And I end on the edge of some kind of decision or change. That’s by design—I don’t like writing pat endings and happily ever afters (even if they are pretty happy). This is especially true for mid-fic chapters, I suppose, but it’s definitely how I approach endings in general! (There’s one fic I can think of that has a final sentence I fucking hate for reasons related to this but I don’t wanna go rewrite it because I am not sure what to change it to, and I’m really quite pleased with the rest of the fic!)

One thing that strikes me is that I can’t really tell from any of these firsts and lasts whether the fic is more funny or serious. It’s just a lot of interior monologue, really.I’m not sure if there’s anything here I specifically want to work on. Maybe experimenting more with diving right into the action?

ANYHOO. If you see this because you're still actually looking at your tumblr dash regularly (sorry sorry) and you wanna play, please do!! I won't stumble out of the woodwork and tag but I love you all ok byeee

#tag game #ofmd fanfic #my stuff #oh hi i'm still alive!

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levi501ackerman · 6 months ago

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Steel Heart Chapter 2: Forced Idling

Hange x Reader chapter index masterlist

Megan's note: If you prefer "Mike" over "Miche", I hope you can still enjoy. Did I mention this was going to be a slow burn Hange x Reader fic? Posted: 7/3/24

Word Count: 4.7k

“Could you please turn around?” You stood nervously behind a tree and watched as Sir Miche Zacharius turned away. You didn’t take your eyes off his back as if it was a force preventing him from turning around. You lifted your nightgown and began to squat. When your urine hit the ground, forming a crater in the dirt and then pooling closer to the heels of your boots, you begged that Sir Zacharius couldn’t hear your pee stream.

Dull warmth was on your back as the sun pierced through the clouds and filtered through the gaps of the trees. The silence between you and your knight accentuated the ruffling of leaves and the buzz of insects grazing your ear.

“I haven’t been this far from home before . . .” your voice cracked from the insecurity of conversing. Sir Zacharius didn’t glance at you or look interested in speaking. Your chest felt heavy and ached for attention.

“Shiganshina was the furthest from your home . . . we’re heading closer to your home.”

“My cottage in Shiganshina is my home. I grew up there, Sir.” You looked around and noticed a small squirrel run across the overgrown grass. Only once before you’ve seen a squirrel but most of your exposure to woodland creatures have been from stories. You sighed, a pressure built behind your nose, you furrowed your eyebrows and locked your eyes on the grassy ground, “was my home.” An intrusive thought of Fairy Godmother Ymir and Christa’s bloody bodies lying among the corpse piles lined on the streets forced its way to your heart. You blinked rapidly doing your best to avoid crying again. Another thought of lost possessions in the fire caused your heart to ache and a nerve in your upper arm twinged. Tears ruptured when the memory of screams flooded your mind then spiraled to pondering what Ymir and Christa’s screams would sound like when they were pleading to survive. Sir Zacharius abruptly grabbed your arm and knelt in front of you. His sympathetic eyes locked with yours, and he gently grabbed your hands and held them in his. It reminded you of stories with a handsome hero.

“Princess Y/N, I’m sorry you had to see what you saw last night . . . The journey will not be pretty, however, you will return home and to your parents.” He said quietly. You flung yourself to him seeking any sort of comfort, wrapping your arms around his neck. He froze, hesitating the physical gesture, then remembered you did not grow up in the castle. Sir Zacharius lightly hugged back.

“Do you think we are going to run into more trouble?” You whispered and then sniffed.

“Danger is around every corner during this journey,” he pulled you from him, looking at you firmly, “You need to be brave, it’s what your Fairy Godmothers wanted.” You nodded. Sir Zacharius stood tall again compared to your small frame and led you onward.

“I have so many questions, Sir Zacharius . . .” He glanced at you. “How am I a Princess?” You asked and he looked forward. In the distance was a bright light, the edge of the forest. A view, a goal, an end to the repetitive scenery of bark, leaves, tall grass, and shadows. Sir Zacharius gruffed.

“I might have been a rookie or so a few years before you were born . . .” He started and the astonishment of the length of time Sir Zacharius has been a knight intrigued you. “I’d say that’s the height of the Marleyan Cult . . . and when you were born . . . the Kingdom became unsafe because you—”

“Unsafe?”

“The leaders became vocal on their beliefs and then when they didn’t get what they wanted they were aggressive.”

“What did they want?”

“You, your Highness.” Your eyebrows raised practically to your hairline. A pit in your chest cratered and a foreboding feeling mixed with confusion crept out. You analyzed your childhood seeking some answer as to what you have done for a cult to want you. Your memories of reading, learning, and playing in the cottage in Shiganshina did not erase your curiosity. A sense of unwarranted guilt forced its way to the forefront of your brain and you questioned your purpose.

The wind picked up, sending a chill down your spine and a feeling of uncomfortableness sprouted. You began to breathe heavily and everything besides the feet carrying you toward the edge of the forest felt paralyzed.

“Sir Zacharius, why does the . . . Marleyan Cult want me?” The anticipation built as Sir Zacharius avoided your eye, he stared ahead and then breathed out audibly.

“Because you—well it has to do with your birth date, birth year and you’re the daughter of the Queen and her King. You have royal blood.”

“If the Marleyan Cult . . . got me then what?”

“That will not happen, Princess Y/N. Over my dead body, I swear to it.”

“But what will happen?”

“I rather not say, your Highness. I do not wish to frighten you.”

Curiosity poured out of your ears. What would they do? What . . . would they . . . do? Death was frightening. You imagined people in red cloaks tying you down and slitting your throat. Then an image of yourself in a cell starved, being nearly bones, with metal shackles around your ankles projected in your mind. Fear spread through your chest, captivated your thoughts, and fed your imagination. You thought of people beating you and you cowered defenselessly.

“Is that why they were attacking Shiganshina? They were looking for me? To kill me?”

“Word has it there’s a traitor among the knights. They heard that for your quarter birthday, you were going to return to Mitras Castle. We’ve been preparing for any possible attack and for your return, however, I did not expect something to happen this far away from your quarter birthday. The King’s Guard and Scout Regiment must be scrambling this very moment to put together a plan. I suspect I’m going to see some old comrades I haven’t seen in a while.”

“Sir Zacharius, I want you to teach me how to fight.” You firmly said and when he looked at you, a chip was knocked off your confidence. Foreboding danger and the thought of someone taking you fueled the courage and tethered that chip right back from where it fell. You decided you must learn anything to defend yourself and you didn’t dare to look away from Sir Zacharius, challenging your determination.

“We’ll cross paths with more knights from the King’s Guard and you’ll have many bodies to be killed before you’re ever touched.”

“Please, Sir, I understand I can’t learn how to be as great as you in one day or even maybe one year, but—”

“Go for the neck! Kick them in the balls!” You nodded to yourself understanding his words. Doing such acts frightened you, not even wanting to hurt a person. You compromised with yourself, settling that it was only worth it if someone was going to hurt you.

Two hours passed approaching closer to three when the edge of the forest looked so close, almost an arm's length away. You saw a green open field, hills, and what looked like multiple cottages in the distance. Hope stirred as you saw the destination of possibly taking a break.

“Sir Zacharius, are we resting there for the night?”

“No, too obvious, if anything we’ll just run into more trouble.” You felt empty and you had to remind yourself to breathe, your chest felt heavy.

“Please sir we’ve been walking all day—”

“You’re Highness, we are on foot. By now the cult knows you’ve escaped Shiganshina, I know they’ll send out a search for you, thus being every moment we rest the closer they get. We must reach the others. They will have horses and food and many men to protect you.”

“Sir Zacharius,” The fragments of remaining memories, moments before falling asleep, entertained your mind. Shivering on the cold, dirty ground and the coolness on your cheeks as the breeze chilled your tears. Sir Zacharius sitting against a tree, firm on being awake, staying aware for the moment danger approached. Sleeping on the dirt, grass ticking your skin, and bugs crawling around were something you never experienced. After a faint noise of clanking belonging to Sir Zacharius’ armor, his soft voice offered his armor breastplate, padding, and pauldron. After minutes of steady warmth and adapting to the lingering scent of Sir Zacharius’ body odor, you slept deeply. And still, when you woke up, Sir Zacharius was scanning the trees. “You must be tired . . . you haven’t even slept in a while right?”

“Princess, in a few day’s time we’ll—” A sound of a sharp metal snap, then a clamp and the screech of steel and a guttural bellow from Sir Zacharius followed. Your heart leaped out of your chest. He groaned and held his leg, head thrown back, face red, and eyes squeezing shut, scrunching his nose. Your eyebrows raised seeing your knight sweating profusely and hollering. Clamping his knee was a large rusted, animal trap, breaking through the netting of his armor, piercing the back of his knee, and cutting into the armor of his kneecap. He cursed loudly and pleaded. “FUCK!” He caught his breath, scrambling for relief, muscles spasming and tightening.

“SIR ZACHARIUS! ARE—”

“DO WHAT I SAY RIGHT NOW!” His voice carried through the forest, making your heart jump. He breathed heavily, holding his leg and mustering the strength to speak through the agonizing metal tearing into his knee. You ached at the sight of him, beginning to tear up again, scared and wanting to take his pain away. “With all your strength . . . you must help pull the mouth of this trap wide enough . . . so I can free my leg.” The large metal clamping the strong man discouraged your strength, feeding the helpless thoughts. How could a small girl like you pull apart a large trap? Sir Zacharius huffed and his tearful eyes demanded your strength. You nodded, dropping your cloth bag, obediently, approaching closer. “You must avoid cutting off your fingers . . . if it snaps back, remove your fingers at once, whether my leg is free or not.” Tears fell on your face and you softly whimpered. You had to be the strong one. Sir Zacharius groaned, “p-place your hands here and when I say so, we’ll pull at once, when my leg is free remove your hands immediately.” You hesitantly placed your hands on a small opening, feeling the grimy metal texture. Sir Zacharius put his hands on an opening on the other side of his leg. He exhaled and dripped in sweat. “NOW!” The resistance of the force caused the grime to dig into your hands, the sharp awkward edges created the worst position to have the strength to push the trap open. Slowly the trap got wider, screeching against the kneecap of his armor and you saw the spikes that were in the back of his knee, removed from his flesh and the netting. He yelled beside you and for him, you pulled harder, he pulled his leg out and you both released your hold of the trap. SNAPPING shut.

“Sir Zacharius!” You watched as he stumbled back into a tree and then slumped down. “Your leg!” He shut his eyes and caught his breath against the tree. You knelt beside him, the kneecap of his armor had sharp holes from the trap, and the sides of his knee and behind it were covered in blood.

“Princess . . .” His voice was soft, drained, and exhausted. “Your bravery helped us out of this shit. Thank you.”

“Uh, no problem.” You analyzed his face, scrunched up in agony, trying to mute the screams he wanted to release. You whipped around, passed the trap, and grabbed your cloth bag. You dug through the bag finding the leather water container. “Here! Drink some water!” You unscrewed the cap and Sir Zacharius took a shy sip.

“Thank you, however, this water is for you, your Highness . . .”

“Please take another sip” You begged, the scene setting in, feeling helpless. You weren’t sure if Sir Zacharius could walk. What if he got infected and he asked you to cut off his leg—

“Change in plans . . .” Please no, you wouldn’t be able to cut off his leg if he demanded it. “We’re going to hope those cottages are abandoned or that there’s a nice family there willing to help.” You felt relieved. “If there are people there, you stay silent. I will only speak. Do I make myself clear?” You nodded obediently and recalled your Fairy Godmother Christa’s orders to do and say whatever Sir Zacharius asked of you.

“Yes.”

“This is the hard part . . . I’ll need you to help me walk. It's best to reach the cottages before sundown. We’ll need to be quick yet careful. Then we need to find a cloth to stop the bleeding.”

“Sir Zacharius, I will do everything you asked.” He handed you the leather water container and you stored it in your cloth bag. “I’m sorry that stupid trap was there, pardon my language.” Sir Zacharius laughed. “If we can get supplies I think I could sew your skin together, so it’ll heal better. I’ve never done it, but I will for you.”

“I feel special.” Sir Zacharius pulled the sword from his waist and dug it into the ground next to him. He leveraged his weight onto the sword using it to stand and then he leaned against the tree, wincing and he moaned. “I need you to be the strong one for a while, Princess.” You nervously nodded. “You’re going to be my other leg.”

“Yes, Sir Zacharius.”

“Enough. You can call me, Miche, when it’s just us.”

“Uh, okay, Miche.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and you held his thick waist. You peered down at his injured knee, making you sympathetically wince.

“We must remain onward. We can only hope whoever set the trap is not going to check if anything was caught soon.” For the sake of him, you did your best to carry the weight he put onto you and he hobbled toward the cottages. You begged for the universe to have no harmful people. You couldn’t take your eyes off the ground, worried that there could be another trap before leaving the forest.

The trudge alone to the end of the forest took an extra hour and the sun was starting to lower in the sky. Your heart rate was elevated at the physical excursion of carrying Sir Zacharius’ body. His armor clanked with each little hop and he kept a steady breath.

“You’re doing great, we’re almost there,” You said soothingly and he chuckled to himself. When you stepped into the short grass of the field, a second wind of energy fueled you. A completion of a milestone of being out of the forest.

“Again,” Sir Miche Zacharius whispered, “if there are people in those cottages, you do not speak. I will do all the talking, understand?”

“Yes Sir—uh, Miche.”

“We are siblings. I am your big brother who took this armor from a dead knight.”

“Yes.”

“We are from Shiganshina and strayed away from the rest of the refugees. Ran into the forest and your idiot brother got caught in an animal trap.”

“Okay.”

“All we want is some cloth to tie off my knee and if we are lucky a needle and thread, so you can stitch my deep wounds.”

“I will.”

“We will not accept food—”

“WHAT!”

“NONE! I’m sorry, your Highness. We can not trust anyone. No one we do not know.” You sighed but understood. “Only eat what’s left in your bag, until we meet with people I know and trust.” Although you wanted to argue and point out the possibility of eating food you can see them cook, you remembered to not question him. He lifted your hood back, covering your hair and head.

“Yes, Sir Zacharius,” You submissively said.

“Good girl.” An unfamiliar feeling in you stirred.

Insight the cottages looked tiny. At the bottom of the hill was the closest one, spread apart the next one was almost on top of another hill. The sky was golden and only such little time was left before it was dark. Your neck ached with Sir Zacharius’ weight, but you reminded yourself that you were not the hurt one.

A large patch of blood was pooling at the back of his leg, branding the netting. Blood was also on the rim of all the holes where the trap pierced his kneecap. Sir Zacharius was getting lethargic and though rest was insight, worry crept onto your cheeks. Images of whoever was in the cottage beating Sir Zacharius and then going for you next. You fought with your mind that possibly punching their neck would take them down, but your mind pointed out that if Sir Zacharius was defeated then the person would take you easily. Go for the neck, kick them in the balls.

“Remember what I said. You do not speak at all.” You carefully trudged down the hill, tightening your core to stay balanced for yourself and Sir Zacharius. He let out an agonized exhale. Both your necks were dripping in sweat from the excursion. The field was quiet and all the cottages appeared dark inside. You carried a hobbling Sir Miche Zacharius to the side of the cottage where a dark wooden door was, it appeared to be the front. “I think no one’s here.” He whispered, relieved. Yet you both hobbled toward the door. Sir Zacharius knocked.

No answer.

No sounds of shuffling from inside.

No voice warning they’ll be there in a moment.

No one.

Sir Zacharius knocked again. When the silence replied, he hesitantly tried the knob. It twisted easily and he pushed the door open. The dirty room with no sign of life relaxed you and a pressure of tears built in your eyes, happy you might get rest. You started heading in when Sir Zacharius held a hand up.

“Is anyone there?” Silence. “We mean no harm. We just want a cloth to bandage a wound and we’ll be on our way . . .” When there was no reply, your antsy feet wanted to run inside. “We’ll go inside, but we will always be prepared to leave, understood Princess?” He hobbled into the room and you followed. You shut the door and dust flew up, causing you to almost cough. You guided him to a closed door on the opposite side of the room, hoping there was a bed. When you turned the knob, a bed was in the corner of the room, it was covered in only one blanket and had multiple pillows. You carried him to the bed and carefully he sat down, without his weight, you felt light and then rolled your shoulders feeling pleasure as the built-up tension released.

Sir Zacharius started taking off his leg armor, drops of blood running down his leg. You knelt in front of him and inspected his wound. You inhaled, coming to terms that you had to sew his skin.

“I’m going to search for supplies,” you whispered as if someone was listening to you. You stood up and then started pushing Sir Zacharius’ chest into the bed.

“W-What are you doing?”

“You should rest, while I find supplies . . .”

“Right . . .” You took off your cloak, the air hitting your back and cooling it. You set it on the ground and then caught Sir Zacharius’ blue eyes.

“Uh . . . ? Should I keep it on in case someone looks in the windows?”

“No! I just . . .” You furrowed your brows, his cheeks were oddly pink . . . Sir Zacharius was acting weird. “I was thinking we should find you different clothes. At least pants, for when we get on horseback.”

“Alright, I’ll look for clothes once I’m done sewing your knee.” You turned and walked out of the bedroom. You looked around the small cottage for another door. You saw a toilet in another small room. Upon entering you saw a cabinet and hoped to find some sort of supplies. The inside was dusty and hadn’t been touched in a while. A stench of rotting wood invaded your nose. The first bottle you saw, you untwisted the cap and held it to your nose. It didn’t smell like alcohol. Behind the first were more glass bottles. You tried sniffing a bottle nearly empty and it smelled unfamiliar as well. You opened a small pouch that was lying in the corner and found some bandages, rags, needles and thread, some ointments, multiple colored pills, and scissors. You decided that will have to do. You checked the last four glass bottles and the green glass bottle had a whiff of alcohol.

You noticed your heartbeat in your throat as you realized you were going to have to sew his wounds. Fairy Godmother Ymir mentioned the process of stitches years ago, but you have never done it before. But if your knight doesn’t heal and can walk soon, then what would you do if the cult caught up with you?

The bedroom was dimmer and you were losing daylight. When you entered the bedroom Sir Zacharius’ eyes were closed, breathing evenly.

“Sir Zacharius?”

“Miche.”

“Uh, I have the stuff to sew your wounds . . .” Sir Zacharius exhaled loudly then sat up in the bed, and you sat on the bed next to his leg, placing your supplies on your lap.

While you sewed his skin you weren’t sure if you were doing it right because Sir Zacharius kept grunting and clutching a pillow, it worried you, but you kept going. He assured anything was better than nothing, so you kept stabbing him, doing your best. He looked at your stitch work and shrugged. Night arrived by the time you were wrapping a bandage over his swollen knee.

“Listen, Princess Y/N, we’re not in a good position right now . . . I can’t walk properly and though this place looks like no one has been here for a while, I suspect these cottages will attract others like it did to us. However, I need to heal a little before we continue.” He sighed bitterly. “If only we had a horse . . .”

The next two days were long. They felt mindless, quiet and any noise outside made you worried there were scavengers, but no one came. You and Sir Zacharius ate the rest of your bread along with a large portion of the butter. With the sink in the kitchen, you and Sir Zacharius suppressed your appetite by filling up on water.

The next few days, he assured you that he wasn’t hungry and for you to finish off the oranges and apples. Your stomach cried for food, it was all you could think about and your headaches were awful at night trying to rest while you and Sir Zacharius shared the small bed. He fought with you that it was wrong to share, but you weren’t going to let him sleep on the floor. Plus he was very warm which you didn’t want to tell him in case it made him feel weird.

Sir Zacharius babied his leg and tried to walk on it . . . he couldn’t. It worried you . . . the thought of how long until someone found you and then tried to kill you.

One morning Sir Zacharius woke up soaking the bed. It struck you when he suggested his fever, that the knee might be infected. Your eyes widened and the thought of having to chop off his leg made your stomach flip. Though you argued back and forth you managed to get him to eat the last orange.

Twice a day you did your best to clean the wound, the swelling did not decrease and your knight grew weak. He fell in and out of deep slumber and you felt helpless. Curled up on the floor, you didn’t know what else to do.

Another morning you saw his eyes and face were yellow . . . and the bed was soaked in sweat and reeked of his body odor.

Two weeks—maybe two—weeks passed. Sir Zacharius was very sick and exhausted and you realized you needed to do something. Anything. One rule Sir Zacharius told you was to not leave the cottage unless it was to run for your life. But for the sake of his health . . . you decided to break it. You planned to go to one of the other cottages, hoping it was empty, and try to find medicine or food. Your arms were skinny and your nightgown was a little looser. Once again you placed the hood of your cloak back on top of your head, determined to be disguised.

You checked Sir Zacharius’ eyes and they were closed, his breathing was even and so you decided to take his sword. It was heavy, but the weight was expected. The handle had a crested decorative design and at the base of the blade you realized his initials were carved into the blade: MZ. You hoped he wouldn’t wake up before you were back and yell at you. You pondered with yourself if you should go off on your own. But if you succeeded he might tell you, “You’re brave”, again.

You removed the leaning chair from under the doorknob and slowly opened the door. A Burst of fresh air hit your nostrils and you realized the air in the cottage was stuffy and warm. You closed the front door softly so as to not wake Sir Zacharius. You inhaled the fresh breath and mustered the courage to walk toward the closest cottage on top of the hill, heart pulsing in your ear.

I am brave.

Thinking of the list of stuff hoping to find was distracting your worries of death. You begged your mind to knock it off—to stop imagining such horrible death.

Food, medicine, pants, or anything useful.

The hill was increasing your heart rate and draining your energy. You huffed and recognized how tired your body was. While almost to the top of the hill you looked back at the cottage in the distance. You trudged onward and at the top of the hill you saw more grass, hills, and cottages. Suddenly movement caught your eye. In your vision next to some of the cottages were men. Your heart shot up into your throat and you hoped you weren’t spotted on the hill. You didn’t think, just tried to get out of sight.

A burst of adrenaline shot and spread throughout your body. You ran toward the cottage and hoped the front door was unlocked, seeking that your decision didn't get you discovered. The door twisted easily . . . too easily. You rushed in and shut the door behind you, breathing hard yet relieved to be out of sight of the men.

“Who are you?!” A man’s voice questioned behind you. Your eyes flew open, you made the wrong choice. You looked over your shoulder and two men were in the room. A tall man with light brown hair holding an open book, looking frightened yet suspicious of where you came from. The other shorter man with a shaved head was squatting in front of a cupboard, then he stood up at the sight of you. He pointed to the sword you were holding, Sir Zacharius’ sword.

“Jean . . . look . . .” Both their eyes noticed your sword and their eyes grew as big as yours. Your heart skipped a beat and was racing yet it felt like you couldn’t breathe. You made a huge mistake to leave the cottage. These men looked strong enough to pin you down and hurt you.

“I’ll l-leave right now . . . I’m sorry. Let’s forget about this, I was just looking for—I’ll leave.” You trembled and hoped you could run fast enough that they wouldn’t see you return to the cottage. Suddenly another man walked in from the other room, with a curious expression. You saw his short frame, and his steel eyes narrowed at the sight of you. You choked, there were three of them . . . they could take you easily. He pressed his focus on Sir Zacharius’ sword . . .

“Hey, brat . . .” The man with the jet-black hair skeptically started, “Who did you steal that sword from?”

next chapter: Chapter 3: The Crested Swords

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