#not in the way of ‘i’ve committed atrocities’ more in the way of ‘i can never meet impossible standards set out by a parent’ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

whore4gwen · 4 months ago

Note

Can I request a Smut with Alcina and reader where reader was actually sent to eliminate Alcina but then Alcina kinda like catches and hate fucks her? Only consensual ofc but something akin to enemies to lovers?

🐰-anon

𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩𝙮 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙙･ﾟ･｡

A/N: I LOVE this idea omg?? I’m so incredibly sorry for how long it actually took me to write this. With my classes starting up again, I’ve been so overwhelmed and busy.

This may not be exactly what you had in mind, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!!

Tags: Enemies to lovers dynamic, talks of death & torture, teasing, blood, fear play (?), praise kink, submissive/ dominant dynamics, top Alcina, bottom reader, unwanted yearning, delusions, fingering, degradation if you squint, hand riding, daddy Alcina vibes, ambiguous ending, I think that’s it lmk if I missed any!!

Word count: 2.4K

I apologize for any grammar mistakes, as of current it’s unedited, but I’m so tired so I’ll do it later tomorrow.

———————————————————————-

You had one mission. One seemingly normal, manageable mission.

All you needed to do was observe her, and gather as much information as you could about her.

Alcina Dimitrescu.

That name did wonders. It almost excited you as much as it infuriated you. The damn nerve of that woman was what drove you so impossibly close to the edge.

Her heated gaze burnt into the back of your mind. Gold ripples clouds your vision.

You didn’t have time for this. Any of it really. Chris, along with several other BSSA members would be there any day to take them out. Every monstrosity they call ‘family’.

In the four short weeks at Castle Dimitrescu, you unintentionally became Alcina’s head maiden.

How you managed to accomplish that was beyond you. It did make you wonder. You hadn’t exactly done anything in particular to acquire such a position from the mistress of the castle. Your mind buzzed with possibilities. Was she onto you? No. Of course she wasn’t, she couldn’t be, could she?

With shaky hands, you took a deep breath trying to further compose yourself. The portable tray in your hands suddenly feels like a ton of bricks.

The lady was expecting her afternoon tea and isn’t too keen on waiting. Her patience grew weary by the moment.

Slowly you brought your right hand and gently knocked on the brooding wood that distinguishes right from wrong, safe and dangerous.

A muffled “Come in,” filled the unorthodox silence. Leisurely you opened the door, making sure to keep your eyes lowered as you approached the ornate vanity, and set down the tray.

Lady Dimitrescu’s predatory gaze burned holes as she watched you intently. Seemingly lost in her trance, she doesn’t realize when you’re standing right in front of her, tea cup in hand.

“Lady Dimitrescu?” you said questioningly, curious where her mind might be.

“Yes, sorry, dear. Thank you.” She replies quickly, taking the seemingly hand painted tea cup. A faint metallic smell infiltrated the small space between you. It was no secret what the lady of the castle preferred in her afternoon tea. Regardless, a shiver ran down your spine at the mere thought of who that could be.

“Is that all my lady?” You asked as you made your way back to the vanity to retrieve the silver tray.

“Actually, there is something I wanted to discuss with you.” She said slowly. “That is, if you don’t mind.”

As if you even have a choice in the matter. Alcina Dimitrescu, always playing with her food. Utterly ridiculous.

“Something makes me think it’s not really up for debate, is it?” You ask knowingly, growing a bit bold.

“Perhaps. Perhaps not.” She responds teasingly, while smirking. Vague as ever.

Even though she’s a ruthless vile woman, whos committed several dozen atrocities, you have to admit, she’s painfully attractive

Beauty and confidence radiate off her, making her all the more alluring. The air around her is absolutely intoxicating. You know it’s wrong, but you just can’t help yourself.

Tirelessly, you try to derail your mind that convinces you, you need more, that you need her..

Each and every humaneless act she’s committed plays before your eyes, yet the image of a broken woman stuck in her own mortality alway wins.

“Well, I hope I can acquire whatever you desire to know.” You reply plainly.

She eyes you almost cautiously. Observing you shamelessly. Her heated gaze makes you all too aware of the situation you’re in. The danger, the unknown, the claws of a monster.

Red paints your vision. For a moment, you feel you might just lose consciousness. A terrible feeling churning in your gut. This could go one of two ways. Either you talk and she miraculously lets you go or you talk and she uses your blood as wall decorum. One option seeming more likely than the other.

“Oh don’t play coy with me, darling. I have a brain, you know.” She says suddenly breaking the silence. “I must admit though, you do have a good facade. Dare I even say, you almost fooled me.”

Option two then.

Your heart beated rapidly at the confrontation. A dull ringing sounded in your ears. This is as close to death as you ever want to get. If you make it out alive, Chris will never hear the end of this.

You opened your mouth to speak, but just as fast as it opened, it shut. You were genuinely at a loss of words. She’s a clever woman, sure, but how did she know? Or even better, how long has she known? And if awhile, why hasn’t she sent you to the cellar?

Your impending doom hung above your head as your mind scrambled to find any sort of excuse, or anything really to get yourself out of this situation, with all your limbs intact.

“Don’t go all shy now, pet.” Lady Dimitrescu says as she leans closer, filling the gap between the two of you.

Pet? Your brain nearly short circuited at the nickname. “I.. I..” You mumbled lamley, still trying to formulate a coherent sentence. Unfortunately, there really wasn’t anything you could say or do to protect yourself. All you could do now was draw your inevitable death out for as long as you can.

“You know, I considered killing you when I found out. Or maybe sending you to the cellar to be my daughter's newest plaything.” Lady Dimitrescu says lowly. “But..” she drags out slowly, anticipation and fear consuming you as you waited for what she would say next.

“But?..” You repeated slowly, wondering what else she could possibly say.

You subconsciously leaned forward slightly, hanging on each and every word that spilled from her crimson lips. Exactly as she wanted. Eagerness coursed through your body like electricity.

“But, I thought something better. After all, it would be a shame to dispose of such beauty.” She finally responded, once again leaving suspense in the air.

Like a pole nailed to the ground, you were so impossibly still; you even forgot to blink. What exactly did she mean by that, you thought to yourself.

Lady Dimtrescu throws her head back in laughter at the apparent confusion painted along your face.

“Come here, now.” She demanded, no longer laughing as she was momentarily.

Quickly, deciding to keep your head as long as you could, you were standing in front of Lady Dimitrescu in seconds.

“Good.” She praised with a fond smile, and by the Gods, was she a sight to see.

“Now then, I’m going to tell you exactly how this is going to go. Do you understand me?” She asked authoritatively, leaving no room for retort.

While maintaining eye contact, you haphazardly nodded your head in understanding.

“Oh no, sweetheart. You’re going to have to do much better than that. Use your words like the big girl you are.” She responded.

Nervously, you swallowed the lump residing in your throat, “Y-yes, Lady Dimitrescu.” you whispered.

“Good girl.” She praised in return.

Her affirmation made your head fuzzy and core ache with want. There was absolutely no way this was happening right now. Whatever happened to her being the enemy?

Smirking, she grabbed the side of your face and ran her pale, slender finger down the expanse of your jaw, hooking two fingers under your chin and forcing your eyes to meet.

Your skin felt hot. Feverishly so, almost like you were lit on fire. Her burning gaze keeps you trapped in a fevernet daze. There’s no going back now, not even if you really wanted to.

“How about we play a little game?” She asked slyly.

A game? What kind of game? One wear she ruthlessly tears my head off? Or maybe chases me around the castle for sport? I’m not sure I'd like to play any ‘game’ with her, you thought to yourself.

“What do you have in mind?” You asked cautiously, but curiously.

For a moment, she was silent. Her eyes tracing your figure up and down. It was hard to read her, she had an impressive poker face, but as the lady of the castle you didn’t expect anything less. Alcina was a force of nature, which was what made her so incredibly dangerous.

A beat.

The palpable silence was consuming.

Then suddenly Lady Dimitrescu raised her hand and firmly patted her curvy thigh, “Sit.” she said indifferently.

Strangely, you’re more scared of sitting on her thigh than her slicing you into millions of bits and pieces. There was absolutely no way you were about to sit on Alcina Dimitrescu’s thigh.

Wide eyed, you stared at Lady Dimitrescu astounded. You almost couldn’t believe what was happening, no, you couldn’t believe it. Surly, this is some sick and twisted dream your mind conjured to torture you. You weren’t exactly into her, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t at least morbidly curious about her.

“I don’t like repeating myself, dear.” She said mockingly, your distress clearly fueling her. She wasn’t quite sure yet, but something reeled her in. She was almost certain had you been anyone else you’d be long gone by now. But this was different, you were different.

Slowly but surely you made your way to the large pristine chair, and hoisted yourself onto the expanse of her leg. Embarrassed, you faced away from her and diverted your gaze to the floor.

Expertly, Lady Dimitrescu wrapped her arm around your waist and pulled you flush against her front. Heat burns your cheeks at the quick action.

“Much better.” She purred in your ear as she slowly licked the shell.

Heat went straight to your core as you tried to close your thighs. You couldn’t help but squirm at the feeling of her hot breath down your neck.

Her hand drew lazy patterns on your leg as she slowly bought her hand up to where you desperately wanted her.

“Do you want it?’ She asked in a hushed voice as if she didn’t already know the answer.

Yes. Of course you wanted it, even if it was against your better judgment. Figuratively and literally, you undeniably fucked. There was no way in hell you’d be able to tell Chris about this. You’d most likely lose your job and any shred of dignity you have after this.

A groan slipped past your lips, “yes.”

“Yes what? What do you want?” She replied teasingly. She wanted to poke and prod till you burst. She knew exactly what buttons to push to evoke a reaction.

Your brain fogged with indescribable want. The neurons in your brain failing to cooperate and make any logical response.

“You.” you said needily, almost like a whine. Oh how pathetic you looked. She hadn’t even done anything and you were already ever so desperate for her. She loved it, craved it even.

So submissive, so compliant.

“What do you want me to do, darling?” She asked in response. Of course she knew, but how amusing would it be to make you voice it to her?

“Anything, just do anything, please.” You begged while clenching your thighs once again. You were sure your core was absolutely dripping by now.

“Begging are we?” She asked rhetorically. You could practically hear her shit eating smile.

How she loved it when you begged. The sound was addicting to put it plainly. She could definitely get used to hearing it.

Finally, she brought her hand all the way up your thigh to your aching center. Her slender finger rubbing your folds through the fabric of your underwear.

You gasped at the sudden contact as you pushed yourself closer to her.

“Oh my, you’re absolutely drenched.” She teased. “Is this all for me?” She asked breathily in your ear, just as before,

All you could do was nod in response., your mind too taken with the way her fingers felt against you.

Seemingly tired of the foreplay, Lady Dimitrescu pushed the side of your black lacy thong to the side, exposing your glistening core. A chill ran down your spine at the sudden change in temperature.

“Absolutely beautiful, darling.” She praised as she ran her middle finger through your folds. A low moan erupted from your chest at the notion.

“More, I need more..” You begged, feeling yourself grow impatient.

A smirk plastered on her face as Lady Dimitrescu had a borderline evil idea. “As you wish.” She replied as she quickly plunged two fingers into your soaping core.

You threw your head back onto her shoulder at the rough treatment moaning loudly. Her pace was bruising, but the stretch was undeniably delicious. There was something so attractive about Lady Dimitrescu man handling you.

As she continued,your moans were near pornographic. You were sure anyone in the castle knew what the lady was up to. Not that you care all that much, but it’s still a bit embarrassing.

Your hips jerked up into her hand as she used her palm to apply more pressure on your swollen clit. You felt euphoric. There was nothing in the world you could compare to the way Lady Dimitrescu was making you feel. Even if she did kill you when she was finished, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” She asked while prepping kisses down your neck.

You moaned in response, not being able to form a coherent response.

“Good girl.” She uttered whilst kissing your cheek. “You’re doing so good for me, darling.” She encouraged.

“Come undone for me, show me how much of a needy whore you are for me.” She said as she curled her fingers into your sweet spot.

As if her plethora of praise wasn’t enough, she was so precise, so experienced with her fingers.

With one final thrust, you came all over her fingers. Your juices running down her hand, and ruining your underwear.

She finished with a few slow thrusts while you rode out your high. Once your breath evened out, she skillfully removed her fingers from your core.

“You did wonderfully.” She praised once again while placing a soft kiss on your cheek.

This Lady Dimitrescu was foreign. Incomprehensible even. And yet, for some reason, you adored her this way. Soft spoken and light, she almost seemed human, almost.

What’s to come after this is completely beyond you, all you can do is pray it’ll all come full circle.

#resident evil 8 #alcina dimitrescu #re8 #resident evil #alcina dimitriscu x reader #shameless smut #enimes to lovers #alcina #alcina x reader #gwendoline christie #lady alcina dimitrescu #re8 village #wlw fanfic #resident evil village

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darklordofthesimp · 2 years ago

Text

Ipseity (Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader)

Part of the "Anything" verse, can be read as a standalone.

Summary: When the 141 has to make a choice between saving you or a fellow sniper, you know that your time has come to an end.

A/N: This was meant to be a short filler and now it's like 4.5k long. Hope you're all happy.

Category: Angst || Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: Graphic Language | Graphic Violence | Gun Violence | Graphic Description of Injury

The ringing in your ears woke you up.

It was a high-pitched squeal that scrambled your thoughts and made your head pound. You couldn't think straight, you couldn't get past the overwhelming dizziness whenever you tried to raise your chin.

Blood stung your eyes. Your chest burned. You hadn’t been in this much pain in years, every pinch of your nerves prodded at long-forgotten childhood memories. They were things that had been left behind from before you enlisted, things that no longer mattered. What mattered was that you were tied to a chair and barely breathing.

You were going to die here.

And nobody was coming to save you.

"Oh,” someone crooned from behind your seat. You didn’t have the strength to turn your neck and you thanked whatever cruel deity was listening that you hadn’t flinched. The least you could do was fake some courage for what was to come.

“Come back for more?” Your mouth was dry, wretchedly so. You wanted to gag and spit, but there was no moisture in your mouth- it was like sandpaper.

“There’s not much left in you for me to take, Sol,” Valeria said, her fingers trailing the length of your shoulder. Your body shivered beneath her touch as she slowly circled your chair, a cruel smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

“Oh, I’ve always got something left for you, gorgeous,” you chuckled, flashing the drug lord a weak grin.

She snorted, the harsh light of the overhead lamp illuminating the edges of her features. She was a sharp woman, Valeria, somebody that you secretly admired. Not for her deeds or the atrocities she’d committed, but for her tenacity and her ambition- there was no stopping her.

“You’ve always been my favourite sniper, you know,” Valeria mused, pulling her hand from your skin to inspect it. Your blood stained her fingers, thick and warm from where it had oozed from your wounds.

“You usually kill your favourite snipers?” You tried to raise your eyebrow but sharp pain ripped through your face, you realized dimly that the skin of your forehead had been split.

“Only when they steal things that belong to me, Luz,” Valeria whispered, pressing her hands against the armrests and leaning in. “Then, I kill them.”

“We didn’t do it,” you met her gaze evenly, the false claim falling easily from your lips.

“You’d die a liar to protect your friends,” she nodded thoughtfully. “It’s unfortunate that they have chosen not to give you the same courtesy.”

You frowned, taken aback by the statement. You suspected that the 141 wouldn’t be there in time, you’d come to terms with the fact that your journey might end here. But, the way she’d said it… it was as if you were missing something.

Valeria’s brows raised, eyes wide as she mocked your surprise with a gasp. “Oh, I must have forgotten to mention it earlier.”

“Mention what?” You ground out through your teeth.

The drug lord huffed a laugh, pushing off from your seat and standing upright. Sweat began to form in a thin sheen across your skin, anxiety running rampant through your system.

What did she mean?

Valeria’s eyes hardened as she tutted under her breath, pulling the blade on her thigh from its sheath. When her attention turned back to you, the malice in her gaze made your spine straighten.

“What you stole from me,” she began, pointing the knife towards your face, “got someone very close to me killed.”

You swallowed thickly, your throat like gravel and your tongue like concrete.

The woman was seething now, the cool facade that she’d worn had melted into pure vitriol and hatred. It was an expression you’d never seen on her but on so many others throughout the years, it was the stare of someone who blamed you for their loss.

“So, as penance,” Valeria pressed the tip of the blade to rest against your chest, “your Task Force will have to lose one of their own- even after they bring me the information.”

“What-”

“We have the other sniper,” the drug lord shrugged. “The little broken one.”

Your heart stalled in your chest, fear dousing your body like a bucket of ice water. Blood rushed through your ears, loud and roaring and all-consuming with the sound. You couldn’t think straight, the image of your colleague being tortured flashed across your vision like a spotlight.

“Birdy.” You whispered the name but it sounded like a plea rather than a statement. Valeria must have heard the begging in your voice because she only smiled.

“Birdy,” she confirmed, with a smug tilt of her head.

God, please no.

“Let them go!” You lurched against your restraints.

The latina's eyes were like stone, hard and unyielding. She was in pain, she was hurting and now it was her chance to hurt you all for what you’d done.

“I will,” she nodded her head soothingly, fingers coming to trace your trembling jaw. You snatched your face from her touch and she raised a brow. When she leaned back with a sigh, you knew what was coming.

Valeria struck you hard.

The wounds on your face screamed and it felt like someone was making you gargle molten lava. Your eyes watered but you made no sound, you gave her nothing to indicate that she’d hurt you.

“The 141 will bring me what they stole,” Valeria sucked in a breath, watching you from beneath her lashes. “But they can only save one of you.”

Your eyes widened.

They can only save one of you.

You knew then that you were going to die here.

“What’s the matter, pequeño sol?” Valeria spoke with a mocking lilt. Your body trembled. “You don’t think they will come for you?”

“No.”

The word was soft and broken and you wondered if the drug lord had even heard it. The way that her smile wavered implied that she did.

“No,” she nodded, standing straight. “Neither do I.”

If you hadn’t been so shattered, you would have seen the glimmer of pity pass over her features.

You took in a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself, "will you keep your word?"

"What?"

"Will you keep your word?" You repeated firmly. No one was stupid enough to trust the word of a drug lord but right there and then you would take it as law. If you were going to die you needed to know that Birdy would be safe.

Your eyes bore into hers. Valeria swallowed and you could see her hesitation, the desire to spit on the dying flame in your chest and put it out.

Instead, the woman only nodded.

"I will."

Instantly, you relaxed in your seat and leaned your head back with a sigh. You closed your eyes, fighting the tears that had gathered along your lashes.

This was it.

This was the end of it.

You weren't stupid enough to expect anyone to come save you, not when Birdy's life hung in the balance. There was never a doubt about who was more valued on the team, despite your skills you'd never be able to contend with Birdy's spot on the team.

It wasn't about who was better, it was about who was loved.

And nobody in the 141 loved you more than they loved Birdy.

No one.

Your lips trembled and you fury rose like a volcanic eruption from within your chest. You would not die crying. You would not die without dignity.

"I'll be leaving to retrieve my package," Valeria sighed, sheathing her knife. "Once the handover is made, my men will put you down."

You grinned.

"After all we've been through," you feigned hurt. "I thought you'd want to do the honors, gorgeous."

But Valeria didn't bite. She didn't laugh nor did she retaliate, the woman only watched you with an unreadable expression.

"We are the same, me and you, Sunshine." The drug lord stood tall, "Deberías haber sido valorado. Morir con orgullo."

You blinked dumbly. "I don't know what the fuck you said but I'm going to assume you think I'm hot and that you regret not sleeping with me before I die."

Valeria rolled her eyes and turned away.

"You act tough, Sol. Don't die thinking this is anything but a betrayal."

Betrayal.

You offered nothing but a snort, laughing the chill of her words off your spine.

The woman left the room and immediately the silence was overwhelming. There was no one to lie to now, no one to throw your facade at. You found yourself almost asking her to stay as she closed the door behind her, biting your tongue to reserve your dignity. But, you didn't want to be alone, not when the end was approaching so quickly.

Though, you guess you'd done this to yourself.

Always good, but never enough. König was your best friend, but you knew he'd leave you in a heartbeat to save the sniper he truly loved- you couldn't ask any differently from him.

After all, if it had been between him and Ghost, you were sure you'd make the same decision.

A pathetic tragedy in itself considering the feeling wasn't mutual.

Simon Riley loved Birdy, just as the rest of them did.

You would never compare, you'd never come close, not with your ambitious demeanor- not with your shitty attitude. You'd never allowed yourself to view them as family and when they'd tried to include you, you hadn't let them in.

If your own family had wronged you, your own flesh and blood, what would the 141 do any differently?

By the looks of the situation: nothing.

No one was coming to save you.

The burning beneath your lids became so aggressive you wanted to tear the skin from your face. You wanted to gouge out your eyes, just so that the only thing dripping would be blood- not tears.

Never tears.

You were not Birdy, you did not cry.

You were not Birdy.

You'd never be Birdy.

The pressure in your chest grew and swelled and suffocated, extinguishing the fire you'd kept burning for years. Through everything, you'd held strong. Through hellfire and brimstone, you'd crawled your way across death and misfortune to emerge from the ashes stronger.

You did not break. Not until now.

A scream ripped from your chest, unrecognizable. It wasn't you who wailed, it was the child inside who mourned their life. It was the adult who'd never been loved the way they'd prayed for in the dead of the night.

Never enough.

Never enough for König, the man who always found himself by Birdy's side, chasing for the crumbs of their attention.

Never enough for Simon Riley, who'd taken your heart and crushed it every time he watched you with distaste- with disappointment.

You were never the priority.

Never his priority.

You'd never be anything to Ghost, not the way Birdy was.

But you were not Birdy and you'd not die wishing that you were.

You pulled at your restraints, thrashing in your chair with renewed energy. While you knew it was unlikely you'd escape, at least you'd be put down fighting.

"Hey!" One of Valeria's henchmen shouted.

You struggled harder, the skin of your wrists ripping from beneath the ties. Fresh blood trailed down your fingers and you smeared it wherever you could reach, wetting the braided rope until it was slick with crimson rage.

Your heart jumped as your hands slipped through the restraints, the gory lubrication helping you pull your crumpled fingers free.

"Stop!" The cool metal of a barrel pressed against your forehead, putting an instant halt on your plans.

You glared up at the man before you, his eyes were hard but his hand trembled, the weapon jittering against your skull.

"I will fucking paint this room with your brains," he hissed, the cigarette in his mouth jolting with each word. "Try me, I dare you."

"If the 141 comes with the package and I'm dead, Valeria will butcher your entire family, cabrón." You were careful as you spoke, enunciating each word as clearly as you could muster.

The butt of his weapon struck your cheek hard enough to send stars skittering across your vision.

"I speak," the man hissed, "not you."

"I'm trying to warn you-"

He hit you again, this time harder. You felt your teeth dislodge from in your mouth and panic gripped your heart as they slid down your throat.

"I said don't speak!" He shouted, the words warbled as your vision spun. Your head lolled to the side, gagging as you choked on your own bones. Bile speared through your chest as a combination of blood and stomach acid hit the floor weakly. Your teeth clattered across the ground, like dice rolling across the board.

"Ricky!" The man called over his shoulder. "Alguna palabra sobre el paquete?

"Aún nada, hermano."

"Mierda! ¿Por qué tarda tanto?"

The conversation fell on deaf ears as you fought to keep yourself conscious. Your hands were freed but now the element of surprise was lost and there was a barrel pressed against your face.

"I should kill you right now," the man spat in English. "You fucking murdered my brothers like a coward."

"They should learn to duck," you shrugged weakly.

This time when he hit you, it threw your seat backward. You hadn't been able to move your hands in time before the weight of your body and the steel spines of the chair slammed against your forearms.

A sickening crunch reverberated through the room, echoing like the toll of a church bell and while that was loud, your scream was deafening.

"Let's be honest with ourselves, Sunshine," the man laughed, watching you as you writhed and sobbed. "Nobody is coming to save you."

He cocked the weapon slowly, leaning down to press the barrel against your forehead once again. You couldn't even keep your eyes open as you struggled for breath, choking on your own spit and blood as you shrieked. You wanted to watch him, you wanted to go down with defiance- but fear gripped your throat so tightly you were choking on it.

You weren't going to die fighting.

You were going to die suffering.

When the gunshot came, your body recoiled so hard that your head smashed the concrete beneath you. In that horrible moment of silence that followed, you wondered if there was no peace even in death. Agony ripped through your nervous system, every inch of your body screamed for relief.

If this was death, then you were in hell.

"Think again, cunt."

The distinct cockney accent had your spine straightening and your eyes snapping open.

The gun clattered beside your head, unfired.

You weren't dead.

"Sunshine!"

You were being saved.

"Talk to me, Sunshine!"

The voice was so far away, he was too far away, he wasn't going to make it. You weren't going to make it. The man on the floor next to you must have sat back up because you could feel his hands gripping your shoulders, the gun rattling in your ears.

Fingers gripped your face, jostling you from your semi-conscious state. Your vision was blurred by your own blood and tears, the figure before you a mess of shadows. You screamed, trying to pull your broken arms from beneath the chair to defend yourself until help got to you.

Searing hot pain ran up the lengths of your arms and stabbed into your neck. You gagged, a low bellow wrenching from your throat as you heaved.

"Stop! Stop! Don't move!"

"Get away from me!" You wailed, voice shrill and unhinged. You tugged again and this time his hands came down on your shoulders.

"SUNSHINE!"

The roar of your name made your entire body freeze, clutching you by the throat with the desperation behind the callsign. You closed your eyes, a whimper falling from your lips to taint your dignity.

"Jesus." He sounded like Ghost. It couldn't have been him but, God, you wished it was. "Come on, Sweetheart. Look at me."

"I can't see," you wept.

His thumbs swept over your face, gloves wiping the blood from where it had settled on your lids and lashes. You tried again, blinking the crimson liquid from your eyes as best you could. You imagined that you looked a sight, the whites of your eyes a deep red, stained with evidence of your injuries. Finally, your vision settled.

Simon stared back at you, eyes wide.

You gasped.

"Simon?" You slurred, his name broken on your lips.

"Yeah, Sunshine. S'me." He murmured distractedly. His fingers were twitching on your neck, scanning the rest of your body for injuries.

Your heart was beating against your ribs, sudden anxiety flooding your being. If he was here it meant that they'd brought the package to you rather than to Birdy.

That meant…

"No, no, no," you whispered as the Lieutenant lifted the chair with one hand, pulling your broken hands from behind your back. "No, no, Simon, what're you doing here?"

Ghost recoiled slightly, a frown overtaking his features. "The fuck do you mean?"

"Birdy," you rasped, a sob building in your chest. "You need to get Birdy. What about Birdy?"

"Birdy's-"

You fought to stand up, pushing him out of the way as you stumbled to your feet. Your body swayed side to side as your vision swam, but you weren't going down- not again.

"Need a gat. Need Birdy- we can't lose Birdy. Everybody needs Birdy-"

"Sunshine."

"I can't lose Birdy!" You snapped, reeling on your superior with a broken gaze.

For a moment, he stood frozen, speechless. You'd never recover if they killed the other sniper, no one would. Everyone would blame you, it'd be your fault.

"König's got Birdy," Ghost said slowly, straightening to stand to his full height. "I've got you, Sunshine."

You gawked at him as though you hadn't understood a single word he'd said. Realistically, you truly hadn't. They'd come for you, knowing that it would put everyone at risk.

Simon had come for you, leaving Birdy to a man that he hated with every ounce of his being.

Simon had come for you, not Birdy.

"You're here?" You whispered and although it sounded fucking stupid, Ghost only nodded. He knew what you were really asking.

"Of course," he said. "Of course, I am."

"You came for me?" Your voice broke.

The soldier shuffled on his feet, shaking his head as though he thought it was obvious.

"I'd follow you anywhere. We both know it," he huffed, that dark gaze pinning your soul to your chest.

You rocked forward at the words, knees buckling from beneath you. Simon shot forward instantly, his arms looping around your waist and hauling you upward. His hand came to grip your chin, fingers slapping your cheek lightly as your eyes rolled backward.

"Come on, Sweetheart. Stay with it, it's nothin'," he growled, jostling your body to keep you conscious. Your head fell forward to rest against his shoulder, ears ringing and your mind shattered. "Sunshine, stay awake for me."

You couldn't any longer, you couldn't listen to him. He should have been used to it by now, you'd always been the troublesome one for him. Never directly disobeying him but never doing it the way he asked, always driving him bat-shit fucking crazy- always under his skin.

But, if Simon couldn't save you, you'd die happy knowing that he'd even tried.

You'd die happy knowing that somebody loved you.

—

When you thought of dying, you always had such a visceral image of what would happen. You'd be the last one on your line, and the rest of your unit would be shot down; you'd make a stand on a hill and wipe out the enemy until you were out of ammo. Then, you would fight until you were overwhelmed.

That was the death you'd imagined.

Not abandoned and left alone in a warehouse in a sick game of "pick the sniper you like more."

"They'll fully recover physically," someone sighed from above your head. "Mentally, though…"

"They'll be right," Simon finished.

"That's what they said about Birdy," the doctor muttered. "We all know how that ended."

"Doc-"

"Saint."

Simon cleared his throat.

"Saint," the callsign foreign on his tongue, "Sunshine's not Birdy."

To hear it from Simon Riley himself was all the validation you needed.

You stirred in the bed and immediately all conversation fell quiet, the both of them waiting for you to fully awaken.

You knew you were in the hospital before your eyes opened. You recognised the doctor who was talking, a medic who had yelled at you often for ‘being reckless.’ The smell of antiseptic was near seared into your memory and the sound of the monitor beeping was too familiar.

However, the room was brighter than you’d anticipated and you cringed into your pillow with a moan. The overhead light stung your eyes, searing your retinas and making it near impossible for you to think.

“Get the lights,” Saint ordered, realizing what the issue was.

The room fell dim, enough for you to finally pry your lids open and have a look around. Your jaw felt heavy like there was cotton in your mouth. As you probed with your tongue, you realised with a pitted stomach that there actually was something stuffed between your teeth.

You moaned, reaching upward to pull it out.

It was as though you’d set off a bomb with the movement. Both Simon and Saint immediately shot forward, hands on your arms to rest them by your side gently. They stood on either side of your bed, like two sentries, one dark and one light.

“Gonna need you to just relax a second for me, spitfire,” Saint chuckled.

You huffed, fighting the urge to gag on the material in your mouth. Your tongue ran over it, moving to dislodge it from where it had been wedged between your teeth.

“Now,” the doctor leaned over to adjust your drip. “Do you remember your name and what happened?”

Rather than respond, you opted to slowly let the gauze fall out of your mouth and onto your chest. Saint watched you with a deadpan expression as you fought with your facial injuries to perform this feat.

At the end of it, you offered a weak smile.

A long moment of silence ensued before the doctor sighed, staring at the lumps of bloody fabric sitting on the gown.

“I’m gonna go grab some shit,” they said. “Maybe a fuckin’ whiskey.”

They disappeared from the room swiftly, leaving you alone with the Grim Reaper himself. With a harsh sigh through his nose, the Lieutenant reached over and scooped up the gauze, dropping them into the bin.

“You couldn’t just answer the question?” He muttered, moving to crouch by your head. He wore only his balaclava, his hoodie down for once.

“Not with that in my mouth,” you rasped, words thick and sickly.

Simon snorted softly but he said nothing, opting to watch you instead. His gaze ran from your hair to your neck, over and over as if he were committing you to memory. His expression was gentle but there was something hidden that made you think that, at that moment, he was extremely vulnerable.

Anything you said from this point on would determine the relationship between you both. You remembered what he’d confessed when he found you beaten and bloody on the floor. It was clear as day and imprinted on your brain as though it had been branded on the inside of your skull.

“I would follow you anywhere. We both know it.”

You’d both reached the point of no return, no more smoke and mirrors, no more half-truths. Neither of you could get away with hiding your feelings behind hatred anymore.

Not after he’d chosen you.

“You came for me,” you whispered. A statement, not a question this time.

“Of course,” he said again, just as he had before.

You hadn’t realised you were crying until his hand cupped your cheek, his thumb wiping the tears from your cheeks ever so gently. As much as you hated it, as much as you wanted to stop, you couldn’t hold them back.

The relief was palpable, the understanding that you were valued was freeing.

Simon Riley knew the kind of person you were, right at your very core, and he still chose to love you. He still chose to hold your hand and dry your tears with nothing but pure reverence in his gaze.

You realized then and there, that you were valued.

You were enough.

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 x reader #cod mw2 ghost #cod x reader #cod mw2 #modern warfare #call of duty #call of duty x reader #call of duty mw2 #cod ghost

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metamorphesque · 4 months ago

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Formula 1, Sportswashing and Greenwashing a Genocide ... in other words, just an ordinary day in baku

As the final Formula 1 Grand Prix is set to take place tomorrow in baku, azerbaijan, I find it impossible to remain silent. The world is gearing up for what’s supposed to be an exciting event but behind the gleaming lights of the racetrack, there’s a much darker story that demands attention: the ethnic cleansing of Artsakh and azerbaijan’s ongoing brutal actions against Armenians.

azerbaijan’s history of oppression toward the Armenian people is not a secret. The forced displacement of Armenians from their ancestral lands, the violent campaign of ethnic cleansing in Artsakh, and the inhumane imprisonment and torture of Armenian captives in baku are undeniable facts. The world has remained shockingly quiet as over 200 Armenians languish in azerbaijani prisons, subjected to treatment that violates every principle of human rights.

One of the most glaring symbols of azerbaijan’s hatred toward Armenians is the Genocide Theme Park in baku, a chilling place that mocks the pain and suffering of an entire people. This is not just an internal issue; it’s an attack on humanity. But instead of confronting azerbaijan’s actions, the world is endorsing them.

These atrocities are certainly not limited to the government and the officials; the indescribable hatred has extended over to the people as well - take a glimpse into the azeri society

Now, let's imagine that you were fortunate enough to watch the F1 Grand Prix live in baku. How would you feel knowing that the azerbaijani person sitting next to you might be one of the many who were selling beheaded bodies of Armenian children on Facebook? Or perhaps they took their children to the Genocide Park and photographed them pretending to choke the statues of Armenian soldiers?

azerbaijan is not only hosting the Formula 1 Grand Prix but is also set to host COP29, a global climate summit. These events are being used to greenwash and sportwash the regime’s crimes.

How can we watch Formula 1 without acknowledging that the very ground this race is held on is soaked in the suffering of Armenians? How can we cheer for a spectacle when the cries of the oppressed go unheard?

This is not a political issue; it’s a matter of basic human decency. While the world enjoys the race, we must not forget the injustices happening in the shadows. Formula 1 should be about fairness and excellence. But in azerbaijan, it’s about something far more sinister—using sport to hide atrocities.

So, as you watch the Grand Prix in baku, remember the Armenian lives shattered by violence, hatred and silence. Let’s refuse to let sports and international events become tools for erasing history and ignoring the suffering of innocent people.

BREAK THE CHAIN OF IGNORANCE: Share Information: use social media platforms like Tumblr, Instagram, X, Facebook and others to share articles, videos, and testimonies about the atrocities being committed by azerbaijan. The more people know, the harder it becomes to ignore. Engage in Dialogue: talk to friends, family, and colleagues about the situation in azerbaijan and encourage others to take action too. Support Armenian Communities: donate to/support organizations helping displaced Armenians and those impacted by the conflict in Artsakh. Even small contributions can go a long way in providing humanitarian aid. Artsakh Relocation Project All For Armenia

TAKE ACTION by adding your name to THE LIST of supporters.

Remember that this is not a political issue; it’s a matter of basic human decency.

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adonis-koo · 1 year ago

Text

wicked • 17

↳ Summary: In a desperate hope to stop war from breaking you are a serviced to wed the most vile man alive, the one who has committed atrocities and war crimes beyond comprehension, he who is responsible for the fall of many nations, the wicked prince who’s heart is made of stone. You are to marry a man who challenges every belief and moral you stand for, all while being faced in a foreign land with nobody but yourself too trust…But are you both truly that different? Or is hate not too far from love?

↳ Pairing: Jungkook/reader

↳ Genre: arranged marriage AU, enemies to lovers, it’s kind of a period AU??? Historical but also technically not? prince!AU, eventual smut

Word Count: 8k

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Note: it’s actually difficult to believe it’s been eight months since I’ve updated, went through two jobs, a friend group and a boyfriend who gaslit the absolute fuck out of me and made me experience female hysteria 😍 I wrote this chapter the night he broke up with me so it just has that nice little extra touch of ✨ intensity ✨ enjoy lovies and I will be back hopefully sooner then last time with another update

It felt wrong, packing a small case of clothes while so many things at the castle had yet to play out, and Wheein’s life was hanging in the balance of it.

You had no intentions to trudge your way to the barracks but here you were; early morning where all of the guards were training and the person you were looking for was watching them, hands on his hips as he called out to one of them to tighten their guard.

You hadn’t planned on talking to him today, but leaving without so much as saying a word felt wrong, and perhaps after everything that had happened you were searching for sober reassurance.

“Jungkook.”

Everybody froze at the sound of your voice, you ignored all the eyes on you, after having lived in Penumbra for almost a year, you had somewhere along the way gotten used to all of the eyes that constantly followed you.

The guards exchanged awkward glances with one another, Jungkook looked surprised by your appearance, eyes glancing over you as if you were a hallucination, but after a moment it was evident you weren’t going to disappear upon blinking.

He glanced between you and the guards before he waved them off, “Keep going.”

You couldn’t stand the hopeful look in his eyes, almost a bit bashful as you walked in line with him further away from the barracks, “How can you expect me to leave the castle when Wheein is in a dungeon? And furthermore sending your aunt to try and reconcile with me?”

Jungkook frowned, “Well I doubted you wanted to see me after my drunk display- which truth be told I hardly remember anything I said, and It’s probably for the best that I don’t, Y/n…” He sighed as he stopped, “It was only a suggestion, it crossed my mind about the estate because truthfully I think you would like it there, and it would be safe,” His hands tenderly grabbed your shoulders as your lips curled in anger but you said nothing, “And I think it would be good for you to put all of this out of your head for a few days. I’ll continue to handle things here and if things change with Wheein trust that I’ll be able to take care of it.”

Your expression didn’t change as Jungkook frowned, “I would also like to remind you that she’s been one of my closest friends since I was a child. You’re not the only one who cares for her.”

You begrudgingly looked away from him but your expression softened, a stab of guilt surging through your stomach at the realization that he was very much right, “I know, I’m sorry I just-”

“Don’t be,” Jungkook replied, “You have a mean bite but I can appreciate your loyalty. I can’t undo the past but I want to make things right. I…” Jungkook paused, looking hesitant his eyes darting away from you and then back to you once more.

You offered no words forcing him to sigh, as if it was difficult for him to admit, “I want to be with you Y/n, not as two people amicable due to marriage or friends on uneasy terms…” He bit down on his cheek, unable to hold your steely gaze as his hand hesitantly reached out, tenderly stroking along your jawline, “I want more than that with you, I want all of the fire and all of the rage, I want the pain, the hardships. I want you, all of you, every flaw that makes you, you.”

You hadn’t even realized your eyes had blurred until his thumbs were tenderly pushing your tears away, “Is this a declaration?”

“It’s a promise.” Jungkook’s eyes held such a softness in them filled with something you still felt uncertain to assume, “You told me that you wanted to bear the deepest parts of yourself to me, all of your insecurities, the parts you don’t like about yourself, the parts you may even hate, so I am standing here to tell you to show me, show me all of it, and I will still take you as you are.”

He was saying many overwhelming words to you, but you knew he was dancing around the most important word, you could see it in his eyes, how it lingered on the tip of his tongue.

But something was stopping him from truly confessing it.

Perhaps even after all of these months, it was still too soon.

Evidently so given your circumstances.

“I don’t want you away from me,” Jungkook admitted, a frown slowly forming on his lips, “But if that’s what it takes, I would wait a lifetime if it meant your forgiveness, if it meant a second chance to be with you.”

“Is that why you’re willing to send me away?” You sniffled, “Otherwise you’ll continue to drink and wake me up in the middle of the night?”

“It wasn’t my finest moment,” Jungkook gave a weak smile, “But you can’t deny it got my point across didn’t it?”

Just his smile made something in you crumble, a vast desire to embrace him here and to forgive him, surely you could put this all behind you…?

But a bigger part of you didn’t want to rush this, you didn’t want to be complacent anymore, that was how you got into this situation, how you immediately jumped to Claudin’s offer rather than confide in the person you were married to.

It was such a raw feeling, you could feel it licking at your very soul, trying to tame your desire to throw all caution to the wind once more.

And for a brief moment you could feel Jungkook have the same reaction as you, as if it took every fiber in his being to not beg you to stay, you don’t know if you could stand your ground against him again if he came on as strong as he had last night.

“Just for a few days.” You whispered out as he frowned, giving you an understanding nod.

“You’ll love it there.” His hands finally let go of you, somewhat reluctantly.

And then it was silent for a long moment, tension still lingering in the air and both of you clearly hesitant.

“Then…I’ll see you in a few days.” You mumbled and Jungkook nodded once more. It felt like the ground was trying to engulf your feet as you turned around, feeling oddly empty at your goodbye, waiting for something that wouldn’t come.

What was it you had hoped for? A hug…?

Maybe a kiss…?

But then again, it felt as though you were no longer deserving of those things, Jungkook may have done things to hurt you but you had also done things to hurt him, how could you both love one another if you couldn’t trust one another first?

You wished Jungkook had reached out for you, to at least give you some form of affection before leaving, but he also knew this was true, and let you leave with no grief.

It left you feeling empty inside, but this was for the best.

You journeyed over horseback for the day, trying to leave your fretting heart behind as you nervously glanced back at the far away sight of the castle, what if something developed with Wheein?

You felt as though you were betraying her just by leaving, more than anything you were desperate to get her back, perhaps that was why Jungkook was sending you away, as if he sensed your desperation would only heighten the longer this went on.

Dare you say, he feared the worst might happen if you stayed.

Your grip tightened on your reigns, once more trying to put it out of your mind, taking a deep breath you took in the heady scent of the pine tree’s the surrounded you, the Estate was much closer to the mountains then you had anticipated, by midday you had journeyed far enough that snow had already reached the ground.

“Are you nervous?” Yoongi had slowed his horse down to ride next to you, his eyes however still scoured ahead for possible danger.

“What do you mean?” You frowned as you glanced at his back, hearing a branch snap as your eyes darted towards the left of him.

Your faithful companion Fenrir having accidentally broke the branch he had been carrying in his mouth the past hour he had grown fond of, a whine leaving him in disappointment as he picked up the bigger side.

“Journeying away from the castle during these trying times…” Yoongi glanced back at you, a frown of his own, “It can’t be easy leaving with everything that’s happened.”

You didn’t reply for a long moment, Yoongi slowed down to ride beside you as he curiously took in your expression.

It was silent for a long moment before you finally relented, “It is difficult, but…After a long night, I figured this was probably best. It seems like my involvement in things only tends to make them worse. And truthfully there's no telling what lengths I’d go to at this point to get Wheein back.”

“Oh?” Yoongi looked curiosity once more, “I didn’t realize you had such a taste for danger.”

His joke made a smile finally tug on your lips, “Neither did I before coming to Penumbra. It seems this kingdom has a way of bringing out the primitive nature in me. But then again, it seems people have always looked down on me when I think of it.”

“On you?” Yoongi scoffed in amusement, “Dryad Matron of Eunoia? It’s difficult to believe, you’re like a pillar of light to the commonwealth of Penumbra, it used to drive the Prince nuts during your engagement.”

“It did…?” You peered somewhat hesitantly at him.

This made Yoongi grin, “Oh yes, when news of your engagement first broke out it had the people ecstatic, it had him gagging every second he heard good things of you.”

“This is hardly making me feel better…” You winced, though a small part of you was amused to hear this, though you wish you could say the same.

It always seemed to you that people in Penumbra didn’t fully grasp just how much people feared them on the outside world, instead poking fun at the titles they had earned as if it was a little joke.

The whole two years of your engagement are two years you’d rather die then live through again, the anxiety that kept you up at night, the endless amounts of tears you cried, the emptiness it left inside you how no one even tried to comfort you.

Looking back you understood, nobody wanted to feed you lies to comfort you, but at the time, you didn’t understand, it felt cruel.

“Not everyone feels that way about me, evidently from what I saw in the Underside.” You replied, somewhat reminiscing on the horrendous memory of the mock version of you.

“You shouldn’t pay that any mind,” Yoongi scoffed, “The humor is juvenile there, everything it stands for is juvenile, even it’s name; the Underside was a joke, a mockery meant for every royal that has to say it’s name with seriousness, point being- they don’t respect anyone who won’t give them money.”

You only shook your head, “It’s not just that though, there has always been a small part of people and court alike who haven’t liked me, even long before I was engaged to Jungkook. I was known for having a temper,” It made you smile wryly, “-The Bitch of Eunoia, that’s what they ran around calling me behind my back. It was horrendous in Kimhae.”

“Was it now?” Yoongi looked amused by this, “That in some ways does, and doesn’t surprise me.”

“The court ladies in Eunoia often liked to call me that as well. But it was very pronounced by Kimhae court men. When I was younger, I used to wear traditional Eunoian attire when i’d visit. Apparently shoulders and knee’s used to drive them crazy. I had one of the aristocrats boldly ask me if I was an exotic woman of the night, willing to pay for me.”

Yoongi’s jaw had dropped making you laugh as he gestured you on, “What did you say?”

“Something along the lines of calling him a perverted old man whom ought to have his loins cut off for making such a comment to a women- let alone a Princess.” The memory made you smile as you shook your head, “The Bitch of Eunoia…why is it men are allowed to be angry Yoongi? Why is it women are shamed so?”

Yoongi let out a hum, “This is indeed a good question, but perhap it’s because they know a woman's scorn could even bring heaven out of the sky. I’m not all too surprised about Kimhae- but you said Eunoians called you this as well?”

Your smile became saddened, “By many court ladies yes,” You scratched your cheek in thought, “I was always lonely as a child…the war took a toll on me, I was temperamental and childish. But the court ladies as children, also liked to mock me and egg me on. As we grew older they grew closer and I still stayed a distance away. They’d find any reason to pick me apart or give me more work to do. They were practically leaping for joy when the news broke that I was engaged.”

“Why do you think that was though?” Yoongi asked, “That they didn’t like you?”

You shrugged, you had never really thought about it much, rather you preferred to keep the past where it was rather then dwell on it, “I suppose it had a lot to do with the fact that while we were all training to be healers I excelled more at it, it came naturally to me and they ended up putting me in the tents before the others. They all assumed it was from favoritism…Maybe it was,” You pondered on this briefly, “I just remember thinking it wasn’t fair.”

“Fair?”

You didn’t elaborate on the word for a long moment, feeling something akin to guilt bubble in your stomach.

You glanced off into the distance where the mountains towered high, it made you feel so tiny in comparison to its greatness, and briefly you felt awe.

You always admired nature, how vast it was compared to you and all your humanly troubles, you turned to it and it’s kin when you needed comfort and in these moments you could turn to it when you were also troubled with words.

It was difficult to adequately explain to people the rage you had felt since you were a child, anger had always been in your bones, from the moment you were born. Your mother used to tell you, that when she gave birth, you had come out of her womb with a roaring cry.

You craved to be vulnerable, to be soft and tender, to be all the things you were not, and you were many things, just not those.

Many people people heard you, they just never listened, didn’t understand.

“I had a lot of resentment as a child, to everything, the war, my parents, our country. I didn’t want to be a healer, I didn’t want to have to watch people in my care die, I didn’t want to attend the burnings or hear the whales of agony and pain, the cries of mourning, the people who blamed me for not being able to save their loved ones.”

You would be lying if you said you didn’t feel haunted by those memories, watching the lifeforce leave someone's body as you tried to stop the bleeding, the maimed limbs and mangled bodies that were beyond your skill or help.

“I didn’t want to be made to go past our lesson times to keep studying, or made to go back in to practice when all the other girls were allowed to play. Or put in a tent over night while they all slept. It wasn’t fair.”You mumbled, perhaps still a lingering tone of resentment.

The past was the past, it couldn’t be changed, you had come to terms with this, but if you stopped and really thought about it, old feelings old eventually begin to resurface, it was why you tried so desperately to just forget about it.

At one time you blamed Penumbra, you hated it’s people for what they did, what they caused.

But then you married Jungkook and you journeyed here yourself, and saw with your own eyes, that these people, were simply people, who were also victims of their own royalty.

You felt the soft grip of a hand on your shoulder, “I am sorry, for what it’s worth,” Yoongi held a face of sympathy, “We all felt the same, or…I suppose a mutual feeling on the opposite side of things. Children being forced to enlist into a war we didn’t want to wage with little choice…”

You gently grabbed his hand giving it a small squeeze, a weak smile on your face, “It wasn’t fair for any of us. We’re all a bi-product of our parents' sins. It’s up to us now to break that cycle.”

You had arrived to the estate by nightfall and it was shrouded in tall pine and fir trees, the aroma had you closing your eyes for a moment to savor it, just as Jungkook said, it truly was beautiful.

Snow covered the ground in a few inches, and a chill was left in your bones, but you settled in rather nicely, Yoongi had managed to get a fire going rather quickly and it was quiet in the solitude of the estate.

For once, it was nice to be able to breathe without being watched.

The first two days had went by surprisingly quick, but you had found a natural rhythm in nature, you went on long peaceful walks, kept yourself wrapped in a blanket while sitting on the terrace taking in the crisp cool air.

You had even spent the evening watching the snowfall outside, enchanted at how it came in big fluttering puffy balls, you had heard of snow before, but you had never actually seen it fall from the sky, like a thousand little gifts from the heavens.

It was dull and gray out today, the same as it had been for the last week now, at the estate was unsurprisingly no different.

Today however you had Yoongi set up some haybales in the pit area where guards would typically be trained, it was run down now, old boxes used as storage had been broken down and were hazardously strewn everywhere, long nine inch rusty nails sticking out of wooden pieces at razor sharp jagged angles.

But with Yoongi’s help you both had piled it up safely away and got a decent bit of space ready for training.

“Too stiff-”

“Ah!”

It was a second too late, you had already released the string, sending the arrow flying, it had veered off target as the string slapped your forearm with a sharp snap causing you to drop it.

Fenrir suddenly popped up from the ground where he had been laid out the last half hour, head cocked in concern at the noise that escaped you.

“How many times do I have to tell you,” Yoongi groaned, “You can’t hold it with a stiff arm! Look at this!” He got up from his spot as he held up your arm by the wrist, “It looks like somebody gave you a lashing! Jungkook will have my head if it isn’t heal by tomorrow.”

Your lips twisted into a sulky pout, “I am trying!”

“Not hard enough that’s the fifth time within the hour,” Yoongi whistled out as he let you go, Fenrir walking up to you as he sniffed your hand, giving it a lick before nudging it.

You rubbed your forearm, that was undeniably sore and throbbing with pain before placing your hand on Fenrir’s head to give it a nice long rub.

He had grown remarkably big in the last month, almost as big as you now, just a five or six inches shorter, it made you give a sad frown, at how big he was and soon he’d become a monstrous size…

You’d simply have to build a bigger stable you supposed.

“Aim comes naturally but holding a weapon does not,” You sighed as you placed both your hands on Fenrir’s head, now giving him generous rubs and pats that had him giving a toothy puppy grin that made you smile, “I’ve practiced here and there with a bow but with everything going on, I just haven’t made it a priority.”

Yoongi sighed, “Natural ability will only get you so far, discipline if a far greater advantage Princess, thankfully we can start working on this daily, I think it’d be good for you to have a hobby.”

“I have hobbies.” You frowned as crossed your arms.

“Such as…?” Yoongi gestured.

“Well…” You could think of several as a matter of fact, but you had given them all up once you had moved to Penumbra, the thought made you frown in realization, you had been so caught up in all the highs and lows of your new life that it was true.

You had hobbies, you just never participated in any of them.

“I suppose it would do me some good to work on it,” You sighed as you relented, “I still feel a tad guilty though, shouldn’t I be honing my skill in swordsmanship? Jungkook once told me that it’s expected the Crowned Prince and Princess are supposed to be the best at it.”

“Well…” Yoongi stretched the word, “This is true but, I don’t think somebody is going to fault you for not being the best at it. I’d like to think it’s an expectation from those born in Penumbra, not those who marry in. Not only this but if you are inclined to another form of weaponry, then it’s as simple as that.

“As long as you have some form of sword training then it’ll do,” Yoongi shrugged, “What matters is personal protection, some training is better then none, but having a form of training you’re good at is even better.”

“You Penumbrian’s certainly like taking precautions.” You sighed wistfully as you picked up your bow once more.

“The more the better,” Yoongi said, “Guards are great, but what happens when you’re caught without any? Learning to defend yourself is vital.”

You glanced down at your bow, “I understand but…”

“But?” Yoongi asked.

“Well, I suppose a part of me just feels odd,” You replied, “I grew up being taught to save lives, not take them,” You rubbed your neck in uncertainty, “When I took the Dryad’s oath, it was a promise to myself and my ancestors that I would abstain from our carnal nature. That I would never take a life nor would I consume its flesh. Animal or human. Even though the chances of me having to defend myself in such a way are so low, it’s odd to train for it, after taking that oath and living by it my whole life.”

Yoongi let out a small smile, “Then don’t view it as such.”

“What do you mean?” You tilted your head.

“Sword play is considered an art form in Penumbra, you can view a bow in the same light. It’s quite a beautiful thing really, it’s not just aiming and shooting, it’s how you hold it, the type of arrow you use, the weight of your feet. A lot goes into it.”

You thought on this for a while before nodding, “I suppose you are right.”

“Min Yoongi! I’m looking for a Min Yoongi?”

A voice called out that had you both glancing around the courtyard before seeing the courier at the gates glancing around before meeting his gaze.

“Yes?” Yoongi called out, walking up to meet him.

“I have a letter for you sire! It was urgent from the court” The courier dug through his bag before handing it to him, giving a short bow to you and then departing.

You glanced at it anxiously as you exchanged a look with Yoongi, was this about Wheein?

Yoongi opened the letter, reading it before he sighed,

“What, what is it?” You asked, anxiety in your voice.

“It’s not about Wheein,” You let out a breath in relief as Yoongi continued, “But it is a request for help.”

“What do you mean?” You asked.

Yoongi sighed, “There’s a watchtower just east of here, about an hour away give or take on horseback, apparently they’ve been dealing with a gang of bandits up there. Supposedly they’re going to siege the tower.”

“They can do that?” You asked in surprise.

Yoongi shrugged, “I suppose so, I don’t know what they think I can do about it.”

“Well you said you were an assassin before you became a knight? So surely that counts for something.” You said, setting down your bow on a lonely bale of hay.

Yoongi sighed as he folded the letter back up, “Even so, I won’t just leave you here by yourself.”

You frowned, “It’s only us here, and it’s secluded so I won’t be in any real danger, and you said it was only an hour away. I doubt you’d take long in taking them down.”

“Are you just trying to get rid of me?” Yoongi asked in mild amusement.

“I would never!” You said, “But I’d hate to see something unfortunate happen that could be prevented, you’re far closer then someone is to the castle. It would make the most sense for you to go.”

Yoongi sighed, “Even if I’m over cautious, it doesn’t sit right leaving you here all by yourself.”

“I wouldn’t be alone!” You replied, grinning as you gave Fenrir a solid pat, “Fenrir will defend me! Jungkook and I have been working on commands. Sit!”

Fenrir immediately complied.

“Very fierce.” Yoongi said dryly.

You held up a finger, grabbing a piece of wooden box that was free of any nails off the ground, “Fenrir,” He perked up at his name, “Attack!” You threw it causing his gaze to follow it with a loud snarling howl, his jaws crunching the board in half immediately grabbing the smaller end.

Running back to you before dropping down on his front paws, tail wagging as he tried to get you to chase him.

Yoongi looked a bit more startled at the thick board of wood that had been crushed as he nodded, “Okay, a little more fierce than before…” Yoongi thought about it for a long moment, “I suppose if I left now I would make it back by supper….Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

You gave him a small smile, “It’s only a few hours, I think I’ll be able to manage.”

Yoongi still seemed hesitant but he nodded, “I’ll go gather a few things then and be off. The sooner I leave the sooner I’ll be back.”

“It’s one night,” You smiled, “And then we’ll be back at the castle tomorrow.”

You had waved Yoongi off before you continued on with your day.

Spending another few hours training with your bow you had eventually given up once the string of your bow hit a particularly sensitive spot on your forearm.

The rest of your day had been spent taking walks along the trail’s with Fenrir before eventually settling inside, roaming the halls and exploring empty rooms.

And eventually the afternoon came.

But slowly the sun began to set and a vague feeling of dread followed along with it.

Yoongi…would’ve been back by now, right?

Or perhaps it took him longer to clear out the bandits.

You nodded at this as you stayed curled up in your large chair, Fenrir curled up beneath your feet as he let out a sigh, as if sensing your discomfort and unsatisfied with it.

Continuing to read, time went on and soon the sun had set.

You had managed to get a fire going on your own and had lit the candles in the hall, making the estate feel less consuming then it had before but it didn’t quell your anxiousness as the hour went on later.

Yoongi would certainly be back by now…

You were certain you’d manage the commute back to the castle if you had too but…You wouldn’t feel right just leaving without him, but you also had no way of sending a message to the castle for help without going back yourself.

You felt at a loss for what to do, as you roamed the main hall, pausing at the sound of the gate opening. Opening the doorway you hurried out to the courtyard.

“Yoongi, I’ve been waiting all day, you worried me sick!” You stopped short at the sight ahead of you.

“Not who you were expecting?”

Di Jin’s smug smile was the last thing you saw before the sudden blow to your head caused your vision to go dark.

“You look lost.” Jimin commented as he plopped in a seat right next to his dearest friend, both sat out for breakfast on the terrace.

“Was it a good idea sending her to the Estate?” Jungkook stared down in hard contemplation, his food untouched, “If something happens I won’t be able too…!”

He inhaled sharply as he forced himself to lean back in his chair, but despite the motion his body refused to relax.

You had left two days ago and he felt a void ever since.

Jungkook didn’t realize how much your presence had filled every inch of the castle until you had left, and now, he felt utterly useless, it was one thing for you to be mad at him, it was another for you to be gone.

Jimin looked amused but felt bad for him nonetheless, “Nothing is going to happen to her, the estate is nice and tucked away, the entire court has forgotten about it anyways, it hasn’t been used in years. You did a good thing.”

“Did I?” Jungkook finally slumped.

He had been constantly replaying his last memory of you, the conversation you both had before you left, the memory of you looking up at him for a long moment as if silently yearning for some form of affection.

It left Jungkook’s hands twitching and an unfamiliar ache in his chest, he couldn’t even describe how it felt. And he was honest when he spoke with you the night before, true he didn’t remember much, but what he did remember was straight from his heart, he thought he knew many things.

But after meeting you he found out quickly that he knew nothing at all.

Tomorrow, surely you’d be back tomorrow. You hadn’t given him an exact timeframe, but surely when you said a few days, you had meant no more then three?

“What if I-”

“No.” Jimin cut him off, “The whole point of her going was to get out of the castle and by default away from you. Not only that but what if something happened to Wheein while you were gone?”

Jungkook sunk back in his chair, that was right…He had promised you he would take care of anything that might possibly happen.

He wouldn’t let you down.

“Have you found any evidence yet?” Jungkook lowered his voice, his gaze lingering on the far side of the table where Claudin had been dining with a group of court ladies.

Jimin frowned, “Yes but the problem is getting it open,” He huffed, “I was able to slip into his room last night, it was empty but he has a lock box beneath a hollowed broken floorboard piece, seems he was in a hurry when he left, otherwise it wouldn’t have been left afar.

“Regardless I haven’t been able to crack the lock. Whatever is in there, it has a master’s lock on it. I’ll need at least another dozen picks before I even come close to cracking it.”

Jungkook sighed as he shook his head in disdain, “Of course when we need Yoongi he’s gone.”

Their elder would be able to open it within the hour if he was here.

Jimin frowned as well, “I’ll try again this afternoon.”

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed, “That’s early for you.”

“We’re running out of time Jungkook,” Jimin sighed, sinking back into his chair as well, eyeing Claudin with a certain wryness, “I keep hearing stirrings from the guards about how they’ve narrowed their search, but they’re hellbent on saying it was Wheein.”

“Sire,”

They both paused at the sight of Taehyun, a frown on his face as he glanced between them both, an anxious look as he bowed slightly, “It’s the council…they’ve summoned you. It doesn’t sound good, you should come as well Jimin.”

Jungkook glanced at his friend but said nothing as he stood up, not liking this one bit.

The walk to the throne room was swift and Jungkook wasted no time in arriving, the other council members had just arrived as well.

Clearly he wasn’t the only one uncertain of what was going on, other members had started hushing whispers to one another, all glancing in Jungkook’s direction occasionally as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed as he glanced at the empty throne the seats on its left occupied by his aunt and uncle whispering to one another.

They both glanced at him once before quickly looking away.

The tension felt suffocating and the longer it lasted the more anxious Jungkook felt, seconds turned into minutes and the whispers began to get louder.

And all within a moment, the doors open and a sweepingly silence took over the room save for the sound of boots against the ground. Dae Seong walked with confience in every step before standing before everyone on the throne.

“It is with confidence I have come to announce something of the utmost importance,” His voice boomed, “The attempted assassination on our Crowned Princess, was indeed committed by her maid Jung Wheein, we have reason enough to believe it was her as all the evidence points as such. Her form of punishment will be burning at the stake, tonight at the height of the moon. I ask you all join me on this divine distribution of punishment,”

Groaning softly your vision was blurry at first, and the first person to appear in your vision was not who you expected.

“Not so quick witted now are you Eunoian Bitch,” Seohyun sneered, her smirking figure beneath you as your vision of her doubled.

Your mind was confused as you only remembered Di Jin being here, your eyes closed briefly only for a sharp pain to spread through your side that you recognized as being kicked in the side by her.

Groaning your eyes opened and her eyes beaded, sneering at you as another voice spoke, “Come along now Seohyun, why don’t you go see if that insufferable knight has managed to come back yet, I will finish our business here.”

She eyed you warily but said no more as she left and soon Di Jin stood in front of you, “You have truly been a pain in my ass since I was enlisted to kill you, I only hope you realize that.”

There was no remorse in his eyes as he pulled the wickedly curved knife from it’s sheath and a sadistic smile curled on his face, “Don’t worry Princess, i’ll make sure you have a slow miserable death.”

Despite your sluggish movements, adrenaline had shot in your veins as you realized you were about to die, you had too much to live for still. You needed to see what would come of Eunoia, you needed to make sure Wheein was okay, that you would keep your promise to Jungkook.

You couldn’t die, and you would fight if it meant living to see it.

Your mind was slowly coming out of it’s haze as Di Jin stepped closer to you, realizing you were in the courtyard near the hay bales, the pile you had cleaned early next to you, your arm reached over to grab one of the planks, three long rusted nails sticking out of it.

You swung it with as much force as you could towards his legs, it made contact, the nail piercing his skin with a wet noise as he cried out in pain, falling back on the ground as he growled out. “You dumb bitch, a pain until the end!”

You attempted to crawl away, heart pounding in your ears as you scurried but he was still too mobile, yanking the plank out of his leg with a growl of pain as he managed to get on top of you, you caught his wrists as he attempted to plunge the knife in your throat, “I’ll enjoy watching the life leave your eyes. I’ll be sure to bring your head back for your little husband to see one last time.”

Your strength was already failing as you winced out, the knife slowly coming closer to your skin as you whimpered out as it pierced the first layer of your flesh.

It was an indescrible pain that had you yelping in pain,

“I’ll make these last few moments the most excruciating and perhaps if you beg me enough, I might just end your pathetic little life girl,” Di Jin grinned leaning in closer, “Maybe if you beg me more i’ll give you a little more than just a long death.”

He pushed the knife a little deeper as blood spilled from your skin making you cry out, his body weighing heavier on yours and his lips suddenly pressing to your ear, “Something tells me you’d prefer that over this.”

Something about his lips pressing against your skin lit something primal inside of you, every sense heightened inside you as your lips parted taking a wide bite into his neck, you could taste it first, the metallic flavor of blood running across your tongue and dripping down your throat and then his skin was next, uncomfortably soft and tender and next was the cartilage, it was rubbery and had hard bits in it, next was the sensation of something warm and wet against your face.

Di Jin could no longer properly speak, his grip suddenly loosened on the knife as you yanked the large chunk of flesh straight from his neck, grabbing the knife as you yanked it away shoving him down as you managed to get on top of him.

The chunk missing from his neck was ghastly, blood pooling on the ground, oozing everywhere and squirting from various places and he was gagging loudly, choking on his own blood.

Anger trembled in your body, it wasn’t enough, even with chunks of flesh missing and blood covering your face, skin hanging and cartilage visible it still wasn’t enough, before you could even think you plunged the knife into his neck, eyes blurring as you watched him gurgle, choking on his own blood as the life left his eyes.

Your hands were shaking as you waited for him to jump back to life to kill you, and then you slowly realized your vision was blurred from tears, your heart pounding as you took a shaky breath yanking the knife out of his neck before you let out blood curdling scream slamming it back in his neck again.

Jungkook’s betrayal.

Wheein being taken.

Exiled from your own kingdom.

Being forced to wed.

Made into a healer as a child.

Bone.

Blood.

Ash.

The mourning bells rang in your head and you could vividly taste the metallic on your tongue stronger than ever as the taste of raw flesh lingered in your throat.

Blood splattered upward as you stabbed the spot over again, all of the rage searing in your veins as Di Jin’s form became disfigured, his neck nearly separating his head from his body as you shoved the knife in deeper.

Hearing the wet gurgling noise as you heaved a breath, staring at his cold dead eyes staring back at you, the next scream was not your own, but it came closer within seconds before the door to the estate opened.

Seohyun was heavily bleeding from her left thigh, sporting a large bite as a loud snarl came from inside the door, shakily you stood up, “Fenrir, wait.”

The large wolf paused, and that's when you noticed the large gash on his leg, causing him to limp, rage quelled in your veins again as you limped over, Seohyun looked pale a ghost at the sight of you.

From the moment this woman met you, she had given you nothing but grief, attempted to humiliate you, belittle you, try to win a lost battle, attempt to kill you, and now she had hurt your precious companion.

Even with a mangled body behind you, it still wasn’t enough.

Tripping over her own two feet she fell down as you walked over, “We can talk about this Y/n!” Her eyes were as big as saucers, “Please! I’ll leave Penumbra and- and never come back.”

You felt nothing for her as you stood above her, watching pathetic tears drip down her face for a long moment, finally you knelt down, “If Penumbra has taught me anything Seohyun, It’s that some people do not deserve my forgiveness, nor my kindness.”

Her lips parted rapidly, her throat scratchy, and for the first time, you saw genuine fear in her eyes, “B-but you’re a Eunoian,”

Her words were pointed, bargaining, pleading even- if you listened close enough, “Eunoian’s don’t kill.”

Your lips slowly lifted into a joyless smile as you let out an uneasy laugh, “Well,” Your smile dropped, your hands were still shaky, unbridled rage still taunt in your veins.

The primal urge of need to prove her wrong, prove all of them wrong, that you would never again be looked down upon as weak or underestimated.

Your hand grabbed her neck, causing her to let out a choked sob as you squeezed it tight enough to choke her airway, yanking her nearly nose to nose with you.

“We’re not in Eunoia, are we?” Your nails dug into her neck, not stopping until you felt the blood from her skin oozing, you shoved her back before you stood up, ignoring her blubbering, tears trickling down her face as you walked away, “Fenrir.”

“Please!”

He let out a growl, “Attack.”

Her cries of agony were left of deaf ears as you walked back over to the corpse of Di Jin grabbing the knife from his neck and yanking it out before taking the sheath that went with it, adjusting it on your waist.

Collapsing on the ground away from him you noticed your hands for the first time, shaking, trembling as your vision blurred once more, scarred and covered in blood, just what had you done?

Fenrir’s mouth was covered in blood, but the whine didn’t escape your ears as he tenderly tried to sit down in front of you.

“I’m sorry.” You ushered, grief strong in your voice though uncertain of who it was for, yourself, your country, your companion, you reached out for him, gently rubbing your hand down his neck, “But we have a long journey ahead of us Fenrir.”

The bells were ringing and a somber air had taken over, Jungkook had nearly lost his entire wits, his father had banished him from the room, not wanting to hear another word from him about this.

Being told he was too sentimental fell on deaf ears, he didn’t care, it was his friend, it was injustice, it was corrupt. He hated it, he hated that despite being the crowned prince, his son, his father simply didn’t care.

All Jungkook could do was wait for Jimin to unlock this damn box. But it felt as though it was too late, he was banned from so much as leaving his room, guards at his door there to keep him boxed in but this wouldn’t stop him.

pulling the cloak over his head, he opened the window, the bricks were jagged and uneven enough that he could easily climb down, he did it often when he was younger, much to the blindness of his father.

Scaling the wall, Jungkook got down, feet planted firmly on the ground as he kept the hood over his head tight as he made his way to the courtyard. A crowd had gathered, all wanting to witness the supposed assassin.

Nobody paid mind to him with his identity concealed, it would be soon now. If he couldn’t get evidence to get Wheein out, then Jungkook would take matters into his own hand. He didn’t want to have Wheein leave Penumbra, but if this is what it took to keep her safe until her innocence was proven, this is what he would do.

He owed so much of his existence to her, he couldn’t let this happen.

He wasn’t going to let this happen.

The bells stopped as Dae Seong stood up from his throne on the wooden stage they had set up, “We have all gathered here to see the execution of the assassin who tried to kill our crowned princess! Her very own handmaid, this is the killer, our own flesh and blood, and the punishment for a traitorous woman is fitting, burning of the steak!”

Wheein was brought out, her hands tied behind her back, her eyes had dark circles and she was crying as she shook her head, “Please! I would never do that to Penumbra! To Y/n! Please you have to believe me!”

But her cries were in vein as the crowd boo’d her, all shouting vile words her way as they dragged her down to the large wooden steak pyre that had been set up.

Jungkook shifted in his spot as he watched them begin to tie her up.

“Are there any last words you would like to impart to us traitor?” Dae Seong looked at her with pure disgust.

Wheein’s lips quivered as she parted them.

A loud bloodcurdling scream interrupted her before she could speak, the crowd tensed and everyone seemed alert, Jungkook was towards the front, having intended on getting her off there the right moment, but he quickly turned around to see people quickly departing and creating a path.

And the next thing he saw was hardly comprehensible.

You, covered in blood, your face was a horrific sight with it’s dried crimson color covering your mouth all the way down your neck, but what was even more horrifying was what was next to you, Fenrir limping beside you, a corpse held in his mouth.

Women screamed and men gasped in horror as they all moved.

The looks on the royals faces were indescribable, Dae Seong most of all, “What is the meaning of this?”

You stopped in front of the throne, Fenrir as if knowing this was the destination, dropped the body from his jaws, it smacked the ground with a wet echo, the head finally detaching from the body as it rolled towards Dae Seong.

You don’t think you had ever seen an expression quite like what Dae Seong had, and you were sure this would be the only time.

It was silent for a long moment before you finally spoke, your throat raw and scratchy, “That’s your assassin, he tried to kill me again just hours ago.”

Dae Seong’s look of shock slowly twisted into one of rage, “Where is your proof of this!” He stood up from his throne towering over you with a growl, “What does a girl like you have meddling in business you don’t understand and taking the lives of those who were helping!”

“Am I standing in front of you not proof enough?” You snarled back, “From the moment I have come to this kingdom I have been nothing but disrespected, disregarded, used, and seen as nothing more than a tool to further someone’s agenda. And i’m sick of it.”

“Even when it comes to my own life, you stand in front of me questioning it!”

“Why I ought too!-”

“I have it!” A voice cried out, Jimin was running from the side entrance of the courtyard, a notebook in his hand as he panted, his eyes widening when they set on you, ‘Y/n!? Are you okay? I have it, I have proof that Di Jin was the assassin! Here, your majesty.”

Dae Seong snatched it with a certain level of venom as he looked through the book, but slowly as his eyes read through, an unreadable look took over his face.

Exhaustion began to take over, your body beginning to sway.

Dae Seong closed the book with a sense of finality, “Very well,” He aid with gritted teeth, anger still simmering in his eyes, “Perhaps, you do have the grit to survive here princess.”

You didn’t hear his words though, your gaze had went down to the body of Di Jin, and swaying backwards you collapsed into an abyss of darkness, nothing more then multiple people calling your name.

#bts #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader smut #prince!jungkook #bts au #Jungkook imagine

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likeawildthing · 2 months ago

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And ode to our family couch on her last day of service.

Thank you, couch, for being my first big post-divorce purchase. I was SO proud when I could finally afford you for my little family. I couldn’t afford the delivery fee so my dad put you in the back of his truck and you rode, ass out, all the way home.

Thank you for serving us faithfully for the last twelve years, through countless movie nights, pillow fights, pillow forts, and dance parties. Also: crying sessions, depression, illnesses, and inadvertent sleepovers when I’d fall asleep to pride and prejudice for the fiftieth time.

You were vomited on at least four times, but your lingering smell is Diet Coke because approximately fifty-seven cans have been knocked over while balancing on your arm. Did I ever learn? No.

You survived two boys, from toddlerhood to young adulthood, definitely worse for the wear but still in tact. You were both the best springboard and floor mat for questionable gymnastics moves.

(I’m sorry for the atrocities committed, both on and around you, in the name of teenage hormones—I really, really try not to think about it but I know you Saw things. And felt them. Ew.)

You supported me through school, all of those late nights, year after year, while I was trying to better our family’s prospects. You were my safe space in the depths of chronic illness, serving as bed and desk and table when I couldn’t climb the stairs. We were best friends when I started working from home.

The scorch mark from the radiator isn’t visible, but the indents are both from our cat. Top left — his second favorite nap spot. Middle right, from my butt because he insists on sleeping between me and your arm, so I get the crack. Crack on crack crime.

I’ve tried to take care of you over the years, performing deep cleanings, surgeries, and multiple restuffings. I sacrificed a foam mattress last year to give you new cushions, and new legs the year before that.

But, and I’m sorry about this, too, you were my faithful craft desk. Shout out to your many hot glue gun burns, paint stains, and exacto holes.

I did, absolutely, cut a few strategically placed holes in you today to see what treasures you have stolen from us over the years. I did vacuum out every month the attachment only went so deep. So, in no particular order, your secrets:

-approximately two handfuls of dirt

-an obscene number of bottle caps (my side) and cosmic brownie wrappers (where my youngest sits)

-twelve buttons

-a roku remote

-three needles (we thought there would be at least forty)

-$1.25 in assorted change

-my Apple Watch which has been missing for four weeks

-three earrings, none matching, but thankfully i always keep my lost halves

-assorted paper scraps

-mini tweezers, one nail file, and three exacto blades

-a marker, four pencils, one pen, and two marker caps

-a lego ninjago sword that my kids fought about for two years, each insisting the other stole it (I have wrapped it in a tiny box as a Christmas gift from you to them. I’ll let them fight over who gets to keep it.)

-two nerf darts

-our missing cat laser toy

-an entire purse chain from my grandma’s vintage coach bag. I didn’t even know it existed.

So, aren’t you a sneaky bitch. But also, thank you for returning my watch.

It’s been real, babe. You were mostly great, very comfortable, and perfectly serviceable. I’m writing this, ironically, on your replacement. She is comfortable, spacious, and heaps more stylish.

But, damn.

Does she have big cushions to fill.

#pen to paper

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tachiguin · 4 months ago

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Is Tanizaki really more evil than Dazai?

I don’t think I’ve ever written a longer meta about “Tanizaki is the person who comes the closest to “evil” among all the Detective Agency employees”, which is something Asagiri mentions at a BSD Exposition, but I do have a lot of thoughts about it. I think the most popular reaction to this statement is ‘more than Dazai?!’ which is fair. Because Dazai is a former Port Mafia executive and has a rap sheet longer than Tetchou’s saber. But I think there’s multiple angles at which you can tackle this: The qualifier being “among all the [ADA] employees”, what makes someone more evil than another, how you define ‘evil’.

The easiest way to justify this if you firmly believe that Dazai is more evil than Tanizaki is to separate PM!Dazai from ADA!Dazai. Say that PM!Dazai is more evil than ADA!Tanizaki, who is more evil than ADA!Dazai, who after Oda’s death promised to be on the side that saves people. Current Dazai is making an active effort to be less evil than he may have the potential to be, and that counts for something. Whereas Tanizaki knowingly throws all pretenses of being a good guy out the window as soon as someone he cares for is put in danger.

Though, I raise a further question: if PM!Dazai is more evil than ADA!Tanizaki, who is more evil than ADA!Dazai, would PM!Tanizaki be more or less evil than PM!Dazai? Perhaps we will get our answer if Tanizaki does end up transferring to the Port Mafia.

However, I also don’t necessarily want to shut down this discussion by just saying “Well Dazai is in the ADA now, he was definitely more evil when he was a PM executive”. It feels like a cop-out. Rather, I think that depending on how you define ‘evil’, you can definitely argue that Tanizaki is far worse than Dazai. Is it evil to be indifferent to committing evil acts, or is it evil to situationally want to commit evil acts? Is it evil to be aware of one’s moral faults, or is it evil to think oneself innocent—normal, even—as one is willing to do any atrocity under the right circumstances. Honestly, we can argue morality and try to assign quantitative values to “evil” back and forth, all day until we die. There’s really no “correct” answer here. But for the point I’m making that’s good enough. Depending on how you view “evil”, you could easily see how Tanizaki is closer to evil than Dazai, who never really saw a real difference between evil and good.

I think one of the most ‘evil’ things about Tanizaki is that he thinks he’s normal, with his whole chest. He’s the first person to suggest murder as a solution to a problem, and he just doesn’t understand why everyone else shows reluctance.

He seems to have some vague awareness that his morality is somewhat less than that of his coworkers, as in the Light Novel he thinks that he “[has] a mediocre sense of justice]”, but he mostly equates this to just being cowardly and timid, rather than the full blown self-awareness than we see in Dazai, who is able to articulate to Oda that he feels there is no real difference between the side of “good” and the side of “evil”, and embraces this knowingly.

I also think that to a degree its Asagiri's nihilism at play. Because BSD is a world full of characters with shifty morals, and characters like Kunikida who cling to their principles like a lifeline are a minority. So in a way? Tanizaki is the most ordinary guy.

And he’s not evil on purpose, or performative about it (like other characters, to a certain degree, like Fyodor) it’s completely ingrained into him. It's just that he isn’t a good person, but he’s not necessarily invested in being a bad person either. He simply cares about himself and the people within his circle, to the point that he doesn’t care what he has to do for their sake. I think this is also something that appears subtly in his irl counterpart’s works: the idea of love/affection as evil. Tanizaki-sensei used this kind of oxymoron a lot: ugliness and beauty, hurt and pleasure, destruction and love.

"[his] self-immolation, [...] with which he changed his whole life in an instant, turning the ugly into the beautiful, [...] it was very nearly the act of a saint." — Tanizaki Jun'ichirou, A Portrait of Shunkin

"Little by little, the loathsomeness changed into an unfathomable beauty." — Tanizaki Jun'ichirou, A Fool's Love (Naomi)

"It was evil incarnate, without any question, and at the same time it was all the beauty of her body and spirit elevated to its highest level." — Tanizaki Jun'ichirou, A Fool's Love (Naomi)

Maybe that’s why Tanizaki is closer to evil than Dazai. Because ‘evil’ is second nature to Tanizaki, in part because it goes hand and hand with love and care.

I don’t think Tanizaki’s “evil” could be reasoned with, in the same way you might be able to convince Dazai or Mori not to do something awful. Because Dazai’s evil is ruled by indifference, and Mori’s evil is ruled by logic, they’re both less personally invested in their evil acts than Tanizaki, whose evil is ruled by emotion. You might be able to give Mori a reason why the more logical approach would be to not commit a homicide, but the same reasoning would never work on Tanizaki, because his evil is coming from a more fundamental desire to commit the morally corrupt action, rather than seeing it as a means to an end. In this regard, you could easily see how Tanizaki is closer to evil.

Still, returning to my point about how nebulous the definition of “evil” is—you could also argue that it’s more evil to coldly commit evil acts as a means to an end, as opposed to doing evil acts out of love or affection for another person. However, I think it’s clear why Asagiri made a statement that implied Tanizaki to be more morally corrupt than Dazai, regardless of whether you agree or not.

#bsd #tanizaki junichirou #bungou stray dogs #junichirou tanizaki #bsd meta #bsd analysis #dazai osamu #disclaimer: i recycled part of this meta from a post on my indie rp blog #so if you've seen some of these sentences elsewhere that is why #also shamelessly reusing manga screencaps from my pinned post

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quill-and-whetstone · 3 months ago

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“The Sniper Problem”

I have a favorite litmus test that I apply to just about everything I write: “Could this entire plotline be resolved by one sufficiently trained sniper?” The hypothetical sniper is there to evaluate the quality of the conflict I’ve set up. If they can resolve the whole thing by taking out their target then I… probably have some rethinking to do, because the test succinctly highlights a few key issues with any story that fails it.

First, the obvious: if the problem your protagonists are facing can be solved this way it’s probably just not as interesting as it could be. A conflict of “big bad evil dude does a big bad evil thing and our hero goes and mercs him about it” can make for a fun blockbuster action film, but the plot of those films are rarely–if ever–the point. Stories with a central villain stand to gain a lot of narrative depth from asking yourself what issues would linger if they were suddenly removed from the picture. What internal struggles might remain in your protagonists? How might the world around them still need to be changed or healed? Which elements or areas of the story just seem empty without the big bad to fill the narrative space, and how can we develop them?

The second facet of the sniper problem is an inverted Occam’s Razor, a call to ensure that there’s a good reason the protagonists aren’t just using a simple and direct route to solve their problems. It’s like how modern horror movies have to cripple the victims’ cell phones to justify everything else that happens, though ideally less contrived. When revising a story through this lens, it’s almost difficult not to improve it. It aids suspension of disbelief, lets your protagonists present as more competent, and gives them more to do outside of biffing people they don’t like which in turn showcases more of their personality.

A great example of all of this is Avatar: The Last Airbender. Throughout the show the bottom line is that our heroes are out to defeat the Firelord to stop the atrocities he’s committing against the rest of the world. So it stands to reason to ask, why not camp outside his house early on with an assassin good enough to score a quick or lucky kill? But the show answers this amply with just its concept, mostly without having to draw direct attention to it. If Firelord Ozai dropped dead in the pilot there would still be a whole Fire Nation pursuing his goals complete with other emotionally unstable royals and military officers. It wouldn’t actually… solve anything. “Defeat the Firelord” is just the mission that sets our heroes on the path they need to take to stop a war that’s destroying the world. The real solution is cultivating friendships across cultures, healing and maturing together, growing spiritually, protecting and empowering victims of generational violence, dismantling fascistic power structures, and ultimately even finding a relatively peaceful / humane solution to the problem of the Firelord. While they do call this out directly in one episode, they didn’t have to, because with the way they structured the narrative it was already evident. As a result of that good planning the characters got to do a lot of interesting, character driven, thematically resonant things and the show isn’t just one long and kind of dry martial arts training montage until they show up at the finale.

So keep the sniper problem in mind as you write! Or even as you read, watch, and analyze other media for what worked and what didn’t. I can’t promise it’ll be relevant to every story, but I can promise that it’s a quick and easy standard that’ll help you layer in a lot of nuance and flavor into your narrative.

#writing #writing advice #writeblr #creative process #infodump #re:Write #quill and whetstone

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sepublic · 1 year ago

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People -and this did include myself at one point- really don't want to engage with the fact that Belos is modeled after white supremacy by trying to bury this under the lens of "Oh he's actually a lonely weirdo like Luz!!!" when Belos' superiority complex is the most important part of him and it's where all analyses inevitably must stem from. I think the problem is that people are too attached to their speculative fanon version of Belos and instead of letting go of that to rebuild their understanding of him from the ground up (since he's a mysterious character who is only gradually revealed bit by bit), they keep clinging to this sympathetic tragic villain as the core behind their interpretation of him.

Everything about Belos makes so much more sense when you explore him as someone akin to a lot of right-wing 4channers; A lonely young boy who was radicalized because white supremacy promised to rescue him from his isolation, and after buying into it wholesale, he very much chose to cling onto the need to be superior to the "NPCs" even when someone close to him actually unlearns and deconstructs for him why this is harmful. He sees firsthand how someone just like him is happier for leaving this mindset, and then kills them to eliminate that contradiction threatening his world belief; At which point it’s inaccurate to infantilize him as just a lonely and misguided kid, because he’s no longer a kid and he made a very cognizant and informed choice to double down and commit actual violence.

And everyone knows that by this point, such people are not actually being sincere; They’re not secretly misguided, you can’t simply attribute their harm to not knowing better because this is what their religion says or whatever. These people know they’re committing harm, but rather than help on “lesser” people’s terms, they ‘help’ the way THEY see fit, in the way that strokes their ego. That’s what separates Philip from someone like Gwen, who humbled herself to focus on what Eda was saying she really needed. So the Titan’s summarization of Belos as someone who only cares about being the hero in his own delusion, and fears what he can’t control is… hardly an oversimplification, it really gets to the core of Belos as a character, and the narrative he embodies. It captures the difference between wanting to help and having a savior complex, and is what ends up delineating the two at the crucial crossroads.

And I find it a little concerning to joke about how this type of character is “just a silly guy” when people exactly like him are on the rise and committing very real violence right now. It’s also why I don’t buy the justification behind a lot of salt about how villains need to be humanized in order to show kids how THEY can become villains, because the show is fairly outright about how Belos rationalizes atrocities under the guise of the ‘greater good’ and refuses to self-reflect, and it’s not as if we don’t have Luz learning to understand characters like Amity or Lilith, the Collector and even Kikimora (whom she DID relate to personally, yet Kiki still doubled down with or without Belos), while still having the show emphasize that they need to get their act together and can’t just depend on people to save them.

There’s also the very obvious theme of Luz realizing she doesn’t owe her oppressor anything, especially not when he won’t ever meet her or anyone else on their terms, but idk some people just seem to hate Luz for having boundaries I guess, even though she already put in the effort to be kind and understanding to Belos and she got hurt for it. Hell the Collector made that effort after being inspired by Luz, and Luz was murdered protecting them from that mistake!!! There are some very obvious stories and lessons being told here with the actual protagonists being the heart of those narratives, but the problem I’ve noticed is that a lot of the people complaining on Belos’ behalf are those who hyperfixated almost exclusively on the Wittebane aspect of the lore, going over it with a fine tooth comb and microscope to extrapolate an entire fanon from the littlest of details… only to just ignore the actual show and narrative and themes happening on-screen.

And that leads to many not understanding various narrative decisions because they weren’t really paying attention to the actual point they’re in service to, and then they blame the writers for their own chosen ignorance, and how the story wasn’t about their part specifically so everything else doesn’t count and the whole show is wasted potential, really. The way so many of said fans immediately turned on Luz after the finale and tried to drag her down to Belos’ level by acting like she wasn’t any better for also wanting things and 'demonizing enemies', claiming Luz had unaddressed ‘flaws’ while Belos deserved more sympathy, and framing Belos as a ‘better’ character who ‘worked harder’ while claiming Luz was retconned into an arrogant chosen one who never grew, is actually baffling.

A lot of them are just upset that Belos didn’t play the role in Luz’s arc that they wanted him to play, so they’ve opted to dismiss Luz’s overall storyline as badly written and even a reflection of Dana's 'Catholic complex' (which is a tasteless jab to make) because they neglected the nuance behind every other aspect of Luz that wasn’t directly tied to Belos, that didn’t set her up as the one person who understands him or whatever because that’s more important to them than addressing the sheer trauma and pain that Belos willingly inflicted upon Luz. Because god forbid this brown girl be angry against her white abuser, huh? God forbid the white guy be used to set up the brown main character, rather than the other way around right????? It’s really just a jealous complaint about the show’s choice of priorities and celebration, hidden under the false guise of ever caring about Luz’s arc for Luz’s sake.

And that’s how you get insincere arguments about how Belos should’ve been able to survive, that’s how you get AUs that undermine the lessons of canon to egregiously relegate Luz to being Belos’ sidekick, or even present her as an obstacle to him getting his much-needed redemption, as if that last part hinges on all of Belos’ victims getting over their pain to help him, because obviously he needs it more than they do! Because we gotta spare Belos’ feelings by giving him friends instead of consequences!!! Unbelievable. He is not Amity, not Lilith, and definitely not Hunter, and the people who forgave them had actual reason to do so. And even Lilith had to move in with her mother so she could be given reparations by someone who actually owed it to her, rather than her younger sister and two kids.

And there’s definitely a major difference between Lilith and Gwen’s dynamic and Philip and Caleb’s, especially since Caleb was also a child when he moved into Gravesfield. Even if you think Belos' bigotry was radicalized due to 'grief' over losing his brother to witches, that's just entitlement and control because it's not as if Caleb can't have more than one positive relationship in his life; Philip is no better than people who blame minorities for some incident in their life and use that as justification to become white supremacists, and there's nothing sympathetic or 'tragic' about that.

But the point is that Caleb ultimately wasn’t THAT important to Belos because he’d always be secondary to witch-hunting, Belos clearly chose his white supremacy over his brother, and any ‘takebacks’ that come in the form of the Grimwalkers are insincere given Belos does nothing to actually repent or regret his violence committed on the people of the isles; It’d have been one thing if he DID try to undo his mistake by choosing differently, by cloning Caleb and giving up witch hunting, but he still doesn’t (Note that Belos does not hallucinate the ghosts of the witches he killed; He still feels no remorse over them, because his fear of being wrong comes from a selfish place). And unlike Luz, Belos can’t have it both ways because one option explicitly calls for the extermination of the other; It’s the Paradox of Tolerance that Luz struggled with, except contrary to what Belos claims, humanity’s existence does not require the eradication of others.

Because yes there IS a meaningful moral distinction between Luz and Belos -don’t forget they’re not just parallels but explicit opposites- that occurs even before you get into the genocide, not that you should neglect that other part either because it’s incredibly important, being the starting point for this entire rant. Society already has a bias towards devil’s advocating bigotry as some big misunderstanding, and prioritizing the angst of white dudes who commit it over the victims of color; Can we avoid applying that to fiction?!??!? I literally saw someone complain that the show didn’t portray Belos’ grief from murdering Luz, and that Luz’s “glory moment” took away from a Wittebane backstory!!! At this point, people are just being racist.

#the owl house #emperor belos #philip wittebane #luz noceda #caleb wittebane #vent #rant

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mr-president · 5 months ago

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hello helloooo ^^ (on anon bc i get anxious talking to cool ppl)

so i have been. completely obsessed with your revived bedman au that you made. the one where he’s Chaos’ research assistant

so i wanted to send in an ask to see if you had anything else to share about it! like lore bits or headcanons or anything really!! :3 i’ve been so deeply autistic about this au i need more material to think about and mentally shake around in my head like a pinball machine

okay that’s all ^^ keep doin your thing you’re very talented and cool friend!!

howdy! thanks for your kind words!

and luckily, i have quite a bit to share:

A lot of this au is based on Chaos’ words that in another story, he could easily make himself the hero, rewrite GG reality, and rinse and repeat. Hence, Bedman’s role is to research how Chaos can feasibly insert himself into different realities or rewrite them in a way that wouldn’t completely eradicate time and space as we know it, likely in exchange for ensuring Delilah’s safety and health. As depicted, I’m certain Chaos’ taste for eccentric…”camp” that makes existence agonizing for everyone else is a clashing point between the very utilitarian Bedman and him.

Bedman’s absolute world would have any wish or any will come into fruition, like a lucid dream, essentially eliminating suffering and consequence and opening up infinite possibilities. Chaos’ ideal world is that of overcomplexity, unnecessary suffering, and tropes. It’s a fun dichotomy, especially since they’re both complete yappers just with entirely different ideologies.

Either way, in a sense, this is Bedman’s personal hell, and he himself views this experience as “punishment.” Not like he has a choice in just disobeying anyways.

But another thing i really wanted to explore in this AU is that of Bedman and Nagoroyuki, both who are unwillingly exploited by Chaos. Nago’s kind of a “frame of reference,” a “straight man” in all of this, as well as an unwilling actor.

They both have to see the other suffer, basically, and in a sense, they both want the other to get out and forget this whole experience. For Nago (who doesn’t have the frame of reference that Bedman did, in fact, commit terrible atrocities), this is some child Chaos exploits for his own gain. For Bedman, this is an unwilling bystander caught in the crossfire and chained and muzzled and ordered like a hound.

I can imagine their relationship paralleling that of Baiken and Delilah over time, and maybe that way, they can overcome Chaos. If there was to be a good ending, which I think there would be.

Also, Bedman’s able to retain more sanity than Asuka thanks to Nago being there and also being like “yeah that guy is Fucked Up, you shouldn’t have to deal with that.” But also Chaos just thinks Nago’s the coolest shit ever, which is why he creates storylines for both of them specifically.

I’d imagine if this was legit, Axl would be the one to fix everything, recalling when he waltz’d into Bedman’s dream world in Xrd. Or maybe Asuka would see himself in Bedman, and Bedman in him, helping prevent the inevitable spiral into madness from dealing with Chaos every waking moment

But that’s all I have for now—if you have your own ideas, I’d love to know :]

#guilty gear #guilty gear xrd #guilty gear strive #ggst #ggxrd #bedman #nagoriyuki #happy chaos #romeo f neumann #my art

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sciencebecameouraddiction · 10 months ago

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my lucifer headcanons

note: these are just my own head canons. things i’ve noticed, how i write lucifer, what plays into why i write luce the way i do… etc. purely my own opinion.

- i think michael was very fond of his brother

- when the time came though to listen to dad and fulfill his duty or be a brother to lucifer michael chose duty

- the betrayal is still a sore spot for lucifer

- during lucifer’s “youth” he was curious, always dreaming up incredible creations… it was why he was dads favorite.

- he made the star fish, “because the sea deserves its own stars!” and he also made the duck. the ducks first iteration was quite a bit larger… lucifer and god compromised on a smaller duck. (more like god bribed lucifer.)

- he watched adam be made…. so he was always fond of him and lilith… until he fell in love with lilith…

- he didn’t realize it was love

- but michael knew and michael was scared. so he would draw lucifer away from the garden every chance he got

- lucifer was very naive when he was cast down to hell. he knew so much, he had been alive for so long, but there was so much life experience he didn’t have.

- the first few years in hell were horrible…

- he had hope at first

- maybe it all wouldn’t be so bad

- it was really bad. like really bad. the people who came down to hell were unspeakable devils

- (this is based off a fic i read and i can’t find it, if this rings any bells pls let me know the fic name) but lucifer is continuously appalled and distraught by the atrocities committed in his name.

- it’s one of the reasons he so powerful. he has the angelic power but also the power from those who worship him and make sacrifices for him

he really hates it. a lot. makes him feel no better than the worse overlord (cough alastor cough)

- charlie has no idea and she’ll never know if he can help it

- lucifer smells like apples and vanilla musk, a hint of cinnamon and something floral or citrusy.

- the floral or citrus changes depending on his mood

- he has a huge library. he actually pops up to earth with Asmodeous sometimes and takes books.

- he saved the whole Library of Alexandria’s books before it burned down

- he’s great friends with all the sins

- arguably closest with Beelzebub and Asmodeous

- he loves claw machines. the lights, the sounds, the prize winning???? he’s so fucking happy

- he actually wears glasses to read. he doesn’t need them but he says they make him look smarter.

- is actually a pretty good leader, is not nearly as forgiving as charlie is, but he’s not inherently cruel

- his third favorite color is pink

- his first and second are yellow and red, obviously

- he has expensive ass, maximalist taste.

- he doesn’t use tech because he knows what vox does to said tech.

- he’s always wanted a dog

- he’s very touchy. shows love physically. is only this way if he likes you though

- he has nightmares almost every night

- coffee addict

- because after not sleeping he wakes up looking like death warmed over

- and that’s if he didn’t forget to eat the past few days except for random snacks and didn’t do a 48 hour blitz of staying up working on ducks or the bit of kingdom shit he does.

- he has a handful of servants who he trusts and they are the only one in the house. there’s no team. nothing like that. he keeps it very close

- this was after someone who was a servant tried to throw an angelic dagger at his head because really they wanted to kill him and thought working for him would get them close enough.

- he homeschooled charlie. he knows a lot of stuff and even knew the guy who created calculus!

#hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel #lucifer fluff #lucifer head canons #hazbin lucifer #lucifer magne #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer headcanons #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel headcanon

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house-of-kolchek · 2 years ago

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Aw, Rats!

Leon S. Kennedy x Reader

@obsessedwithtoomanythings here. I’ve given into my obsession with the man. The myth. The absolute fucking legend. Have 2000 words of tropes and cliches because Leon S. Kennedy DEMANDS tooth rotting fluff. Also takes place during Infinite Darkness because dilf leon is choking me.

Word Count: 2.2k

Check out my page for more!

You didn’t like submarines.

The metal structure around you groaned, reminding you of the literal tons of litres of water that waited just on the other side of the walls. One pinprick through that barrier, and life as you knew it could be over. Not to mention the endless depths absolutely full of weird creatures that could be lurking anywhere.

Zombies, you could handle. But the ocean? Fuuuuuuuck no.

Your foot tapped incessantly against the ground, echoing lightly throughout the room you stood in. It felt cramped - much like every other room in the submersible - with small, rounded walls that threatened to swallow you whole. One of the chairs squeaked across the room, and you lifted your gaze from the ground.

Leon stood to face you, reaching to swipe a stray hair from his forehead. In a second, you were fully distracted from your discomfort, your senses zeroing in on the man. His gaze caught yours, locking you in place as he reached for the hand you had just been picking at. With a brow raised, he brushed his thumb across the reddening skin of your knuckle, effectively stealing any remnant of breath you had.

“Gonna be okay there?” he asked, all low and husky. You blinked, your mind taking too long to process his words. Forcing a breath through your nostrils, you nodded your head, a little stiffer than usual.

“Just peachy. You know how much I love being confined in an underwater death trap.”

Hey. At least you were being half honest with him.

Leon masked his laugh with a long exhale, his lips quirking upwards. His thumb brushed over your knuckles again, your skin catching on the seam of his glove, and you had to swallow back another short burst of breath.

“I’m never gonna be able to convince you that these things are not underwater death traps, but a perfectly safe method of transportation, am I?” he sighed, rolling his eyes in a playful manner. Your own lips twitched into a smile.

“Nope. So when we end up dying in an underwater blaze, just know I’ll be blaming you,” you retorted, acutely aware of the grip he still had on your hand.

“Well we can’t have that,” he tutted, “Is there any way I can repay you for this atrocity I’ve committed?”

“You can pay for my therapy bills.”

“How about dinner instead?”

You blinked again, willing the heat that formed in your cheeks to disperse. As if he could read your mind, Leon smirked, leaning just a touch closer, enough so you could barely feel the breath from his nose dance across your face.

“Only if I get to pick the restaurant.” You cringed at your words. What kind of flirting was that?

And yet, a light blush covered Leon’s cheeks, and you wondered if the tone of your voice caught him off guard. It had come out slightly more husky than you’d expected. Leon’s lips parted, a sentence finally beginning to form on his tongue, when a sharp voice cut from behind you.

“Will you two just fuck already?”

If you thought you were blushing before, this would have been the next level.

You were sure your face grew as bright as Leon’s, his eyes widening as his gaze darted to your lips, ever so briefly. He cleared his throat, stepping back from you and swiftly exiting the room. Your face felt like it was on fire as your gaze slid to Shen Mei. Her lips curved into a devious smirk, watching as you stumbled for composure.

“What the hell?” You hissed, and she shrugged. Shrugged.

“We’re all thinking it,” she chuckled, eyeing you once again. “I know you’re thinking it.”

With a groan, you slid to the floor, not even bothering to find a chair. Why were you so obvious?

You hated this push and pull between the two of you. Leon Kennedy was a smart, capable man, fronting one impossible mission after the other. For someone who’d been through so much, to keep that playful attitude and those half-crooked grins… it drew your level of respect and affection for the man even higher. But you were merely a partner, another agent. Hell, you weren’t even one of the agents he chose to partake in extracurricular activities with.

But still. Leon was a good person, and like it or not, he had your heart. So you’d spend your days supporting him, watching his back and indulging in his banters and his flirting, no matter how much it ached in your chest.

“He’s really got you fucked up, doesn’t he?” Shen Mei commented again, earning her another sharp glare. Of course, as an outsider it would be funny to see someone flounder and flail in their own pool of emotions. But to you, it was like you were drowning in them, facing wave after wave head-on.

“Shuddup,” you mustered, digging the heels of your palms into your eyes before letting your hands run down your face. “‘m fine.”

She snorted, gesturing to the chair that looked so inviting across the other end of the metal table. It looked like an ass-shredder, but it had to be better than the floor.

You lifted yourself from the floor, barely reaching a crouched position before a force on the ground sent you toppling forwards. Your forehead cracked off the edge of the table, sending a sharp stab of pain across your face. You faintly heard Shen Mei’s voice ringing out, and a hand across your shoulder. The sensation left just as quickly though, as the walls creaked around you and you found yourself pitching backwards, landing awkwardly on your spine.

You blinked, stars dancing across your vision as the lights grew dark, replacing the world around you in a deep red hue. Bringing your hand up to your forehead, you groaned as your fingers grew damp. The table must have cut through your skin, as you surveyed the blood across your fingers, looking nearly black under the emergency lighting.

The emergency lighting.

Emergency.

“Shit!” you cursed, hauling yourself to your feet, only to stumble against the wall as a spell of dizziness consumed you. “Fuck.”

Blinking the stars away again, your stomach dropped at the empty room. Had Shen Mei left you? Just like that? A sense of unease settled in your chest, blending with a strange kind of hurt. Why would she have just left you?

You shook your head, rising unsteady to your feet. If there was something wrong with the sub, you needed to get the fuck out of there, with or without Shen Mei. Stumbling the first few steps, you kept a hand on the wall next to you as you exited the room.

It was strangely empty, the infinite darkness from the power outage creeping in on you. Something felt off. You took two steps to the left, hesitating on the third. With a glance in either direction, your stomach really started to turn.

Which way was out?

Your growing fear was amplified tenfold as a crash rang through the hall, followed by what sounded to be some sort of high pitched ringing. Squinting against the darkness, you strained to make out any shapes, ignoring the dull aching in your head, until-

“Leon? What are you- ARE THOSE RATS?”

You barely caught his gaze, watching his brows scrunch together at the sight of you, before his hand caught your wrist to drag you along with him, not even faltering in his pace.

“Yep!” He cried, yanking you forward on unsteady feet. The sudden rush of movement sent your head spinning again, and you tripped against the ground, shuddering at the brush of fur against your ankles.

“Leon wait! I can’t-” you choked on nothing, hissing as another wave of pain coursed through your head. Stumbling again, Leon finally slowed his pace. His hand found your jaw, tilting your head towards him for a brief moment, and then he was guiding you behind him, unholstering his handgun.

In your daze, you barely processed the sharp gunshot that rang through the cabin. Nor did you notice the second one. Before you could blink, an arm was around your waist, hauling your feet off the ground with a jolt.

You blinked, senses slowly returning to you, only to realize you were dangling just above a mass of water, electricity and… dying rats. Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around Leon, digging your nails into his jacket and curling your legs around him. He grunted at the movement, his arm tightening its hold against your waist.

“Oh my God!” you cried, reaching a free arm to find your own grip on the structure he was dangling from. “Here- you’re gonna fall, get another grip on it!” Leon blinked, his gaze flickering from the water below to your expression, darting up again to what you assumed was a nasty gash across your forehead.

“I’ll be fine,” he grunted, straining against your combined weight. “Don’t want you to lose your balance and fall.”

The swell in your heart was suppressed by your concern as he grumbled once more. You tried to ignore the pain as you supported more of your own weight, feeling Leon’s grip loosen only slightly to allow your adjustment. You watched his brows furrow and relax again, a heavy breath escaping his lips and fanning against the side of your cheek. You sucked in a breath of your own, willing the images of his lips out of your head.

“That’s a nasty cut there,” he commented, as if there weren’t hundreds of rats burning to death just inches below your feet. “You okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” you parroted, at least somewhat unintentionally. He shot you a look, and you couldn’t help the twitch in your lips. “When the sub crashed or whatever I fell and clipped the table.” Leon nodded his head, his brows knitting together again.

“What about Shen Mei?”

“I dunno,” you gulped, letting your gaze fall to the side. It almost felt like his face was growing closer to yours. “She was there one second and gone the next. I think-” you sighed, your own brows knitting together. “I think she might have left me.”

Leon’s grip tightened on you, his expression hardening until it looked like stone. He glared daggers into the water that you were just beginning to realize had washed away.

“Leon?”

His gaze found yours, expression softening ever so slightly.

“When we find her…” he trailed off. Though there wasn’t an obvious threat in his tone, you could still sense his distrust. There was a hardened edge to his voice, as if he were angry with something. As he stared off against the side of the sub, you cleared your throat, uttering his name once again.

“Hmm?”

“The water’s washed away,” you muttered, turning your attention back to the damp metallic flooring. Leon simply hummed again, hesitating in the moment with his arm still tight around your waist. It may have been the solid throbbing in the back of your head, or the fact that you’d literally just run away from a swarm of demonic rats, but it felt as though the energy changed between you. It grew thicker, more charged with something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

After another beat, Leon finally muttered a warning, and you dropped your arms around his neck again as he let go of the bar above, landing steady on the ground beneath you. His arm slipped from your waist, his free hand reaching up to brace each of your arms as you swayed.

In that moment you felt his breath against your cheeks again, sending a warm shudder down your spine. Glancing up, you were met with his intent stare, the shocking blue of his eyes glowing bright even in the dim, flashing red of the room. His gaze drew you in, and you didn’t realize you were leaning closer until your chests touched.

“You okay?” he breathed, low and soft. His voice had an extra scratch to it, his hands tightening on your arms as yours fell to his waist.

“Yeah-” Your voice cracked, and you cleared your throat, catching an amused glint flash in his eyes. “Yes, I’m okay. How about you, muscles?”

Leon chuckled at your teasing, his stomach tightening as you poked at his abs. God, they were more defined than you’d been expecting, and your mouth grew a little dry.

“‘m good.” He reached up, his hand hovering over the sore spot on your forehead before brushing a few strands of hair away from the space. Your eyes fluttered shut, and in that moment, you felt his lips just barely brush across your temple.

Cue the barrage of butterflies in your stomach.

“C’mon,” Leon took your hand, slowly breaking away from whatever embrace you’d been locked in. “Let’s go find those assholes that got us into this mess. I have some words I’d like to share.”

#leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil x reader #infinite darkness #resident evil infinite darkness

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rmadridcore · 3 months ago

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I’ve been receiving a lot of asks about the allegations involving Kylian, and I feel it’s best to answer them all in one post.

First and foremost, I am absolutely appalled that this entire situation has been twisted to shift the focus onto Kylian, rather than the actual victim who has endured something deeply horrific. The media has turned a traumatic experience into a sensational headline, distorting the narrative in ways that are not only misleading but completely disrespectful to the victim.

As for Kylian, it’s important not to make any assumptions without concrete evidence. The situation is confusing enough. If Kylian is guilty, I sincerely hope he faces the consequences he deserves. No one should get away with something as vile and reprehensible as this. If he is innocent, I hope he can clear his name and handle the situation with the maturity, tact, and dignity it requires. Wrongful accusations of such a heinous crime are deeply damaging, and this is exactly why such news must be handled with clarity and care.

Kylian has been going through a difficult period in his career, as many are aware, and I wouldn’t wish the hate he’s received on anyone, especially someone I’ve admired for a long time. But this situation is different — it is far more serious and should never be taken lightly. This is a highly sensitive matter, and I could never find sympathy for anyone capable of committing such an atrocity.

At this point, it’s incredibly difficult to say anything definitive until an official statement is made by a credible source. The constant shifting of the story doesn’t help either. All I can hope is that we soon get clarity on the situation, so we can form informed opinions. Above all, my thoughts are with the victim. I hope she finds justice and has the support she needs during this devastating and unimaginable ordeal. No one should ever have to experience such pain.

Lastly, to those who are celebrating this story as Kylian’s potential “downfall,” you are missing the point entirely, and it’s deeply disturbing. We are talking about a real woman who has lived through one of the worst nightmares imaginable. This is not a subject for jokes or gossip. This isn’t about his career — this is about a crime, and the only thing we should hope for is that justice prevails.

#kylian mbappe

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zer0-devoox · 22 days ago

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Serial designation V psychological analysis

Let’s start with this.

From the pilot, the first and clearest introduction we have of V is as a cold-blooded killer, which leads us to draw several conclusions:

• she DON'T feel guilt or other emotions for being practically a psychopath, right?

• Pretending (and perhaps overacting) not to know N.

• She’s sexy—wait, what?

If there’s one thing I can say with my eyes closed, it’s that V’s personality throughout the series (at least until episode six) is a defense mechanism. Having suffered firsthand the atrocities of AS, V had to find a way to stay sane and assured herself that it didn’t hurt to make N suffer, that it didn’t hurt to be a complete bitch to the people around her, and that it didn’t hurt to kill people.

(That last one is a given; what did you expect? You can’t ask for moral consequences for murder; we’re in Murder Drones.)

A haughty, playful personality that is, to some extent, easy to anger. I don’t deny that many of these traits may have developed over time, but most are tropes that hide what’s really inside—a traumatized girl who lost everything and was turned into a killing machine.

(Some might say that I justify V’s actions when it comes to killing, and yes, I do; number 1, we’re in MD, and number 2, she’s my favorite character. What did you expect?)

To some extent, her diva complex hides insecurities (???)

The point is that this girl hardened herself, sharpened her teeth and claws, and did what she had to do to survive—from killing random workers, beheading N in cold blood, to manipulating a teenager and pretending to be her best friend to kill everyone (can we talk about how in "The Promening," V tried to negotiate with N and keep Uzi alive?)

A little extra note: rewatching the series for this summary, I can notice that V still retains some behaviors from her previous self, like when she blows bubbles or when at the end of "Cabin Fever," she smiles upon seeing Uzi with N.

In a way, I can assure you that V is simply TERRIFIED—terrified of herself, terrified of what they are now, and of Uzi, of Cyn.

Disorders:

Perhaps (with the risk of being wrong) Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.

We have several clues about this, like when in "Cabin Fever," she calls Uzi "Cyn."

That’s a detail we’ll discuss later.

Besides that, she’s always on alert and has her claws ready for any danger that may arise (another symptom of PTSD), and her aversion towards Uzi because when she sees her, she doesn’t see Uzi.

She sees Cyn...

People who ship VxN (sorry, I’m not a fan of the ship, but I don’t judge; I’ll try to give my opinion without it sounding like a criticism) always argue that V feels jealous of Uzi. But you know? I... don’t see it that way, at least not completely. I think V does feel jealousy, but more than romantic jealousy, it’s more of a necessary attachment feeling. Let me explain:

Let’s remember that J is dead, so if we add 2 + 2, we can understand what’s happening here: V is ALONE and the only "functional" support network she has left is N and only him.

And also when she tries to keep Uzi away from N because deep down, her clearest thought was that they were going to end up hurting each other, or Uzi would hurt N and the guilt could lead her to suicide, or N would have to kill Uzi if Cyn took over her body.

This is why she clings to him with teeth and claws, and this gradually gets better as the series progresses. Evidence of this is in episode 6 when she sees N holding hands with Uzi and her only reaction is "agh" (How I love episode six!!!)

I’ve already talked more in-depth about the climax of episode six, which is a key moment for the character; if you want to go see it, I’ll leave it at the end of this post.

My theory of post-traumatic stress increases with chapter 8 when we see the true V for the first time—someone damaged, scared of all the damn traumas she carries, who has had to endure practically alone all the atrocities that Cyn committed at her expense, and above all, that what she did, she did for N (I have some issues with this chapter, but let’s ignore that for now).

This is where I cry because we realize that V had hope that—after doing her job, Cyn would leave them alone—she had faith of being free, and it could not bring me more satisfaction to know that (unlike J) she could find her freedom by ending what bound her, accepting her traumas, and fighting against them (literally), and finally finding a new life with the other two idiots.

The only people who, despite what she has done and her flaws, accepted and loved her.

To wrap up, I want to clarify something:

V IS somewhat psychopathic.

V DOES kill in cold blood.

V IS a diva.

But V is not just that; she is a complex character with layers and nuances and a girl who has suffered the atrocities of a pompous being who treats them as toys. I don’t expect to encompass all the psychology of the character in this summary (because I’m not a psychologist), but I hope I’ve done some justice for my favorite character UwU.

[Conclusion]

The truth is that I’m a bit saddened by V’s development. It’s not bad development by any means, but the potential she had was somewhat cut short due to the limited screen time. Although honestly, Liam is a fucking genius who managed to package such a beautiful series into eight episodes.

Thank you, Murder Drones; thank you for informing me, for allowing me to draw my lesbian ships, for making me laugh so many times and bringing me to tears so easily, thank you for the two years I spent alternating between making theories at three in the morning and waiting for the episodes, having to save money just to be able to download the episodes and download all the possible fanarts on Pinterest. Thank you so much, Murder Drones, for marking my life and... if possible, one day, to do you justice.

🧡

#zer0 dearcoupse #murder drones spoilers #murder drones v #serial designation v analysis #serial designation v #uzi doorman #serial designation n #characters psyche #psychology #psychology analysis #glich productions #murder drones

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mayhem-neverending · 7 months ago

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The Big Bad Wolf

Part XXVI

Word Count: 3,081

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff and mentions of death

Notes: Sorry this took so long. I've been pretty mentally drained recently. I hope you all enjoy, though :)

“Hikaru is not going to learn any more fire style jutsu until he’s older, period,” you argued to Obito the next morning.

He had been pushing the subject since he woke up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes while his mouth ran away from him. You had been consistent with your resounding, ‘no’, but he wasn’t listening very well.

“Oh c’mon, don’t be like that,”

Your hands found their way to your hips as your face screwed up in a mixture of irritation and disbelief. Obito crossed his arms over his chest. He was disappointed and frustrated because he wanted to teach Hikaru - pass on his wisdom and skill since he didn’t have his own children - and benefit the next generation of shinobi. He had tossed and turned all night thinking about it.

“Obito, he’s going to catch the house on fire. A two year old does not have enough control over their body or their emotions to be playing with fire,” you tried to reason.

“The Uchiha can perform a fireball jutsu at four! He’ll be three in only a couple months, I don’t see why he can’t start learning a little bit now,” he fired at you, a scowl creeping onto his face.

“Because I said, ‘no’, damnit!”

His eyes widened. That was the closest he had ever come to hearing you raise your voice. Immediately after, you sucked in a deep breath and dropped your hands from your hips. You sighed out heavily and then repeated the action.

“I will consider it after his birthday. But only chakra control at first. If you can teach him basic chakra control, I will allow a small amount of fire style. A SMALL amount, Obito,”

He could have done a victory dance right there in the kitchen.

“Okay,” he replied, uncrossing his arms. “Deal,”

He took the few remaining steps between you and cupped your face in his large hand. He studied you for a moment, his thumb slowly caressing your cheek. “Y’know, you’re kind of hot when you’re angry,”

You let out a surprised bark of laughter and slapped his hand away. “There’s something wrong with you,”

He shrugged, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Nothing so wrong a kiss couldn’t fix it,”

You shook your head in amusement and let him close the distance between the two of you to press his lips against yours. This man would be the death of you, you were certain of it.

Kakashi called from his office while you were cooking lunch. You greeted him cheerily and turned the call onto the speaker so Obito could hear, too.

His voice took on an eerie, toneless quality. “Another clan was massacred in Akujia late last night. No survivors. From what I’ve learned, their weapons are becoming as advanced as our more powerful jutsus,”

You sucked in a breath. “What clan? Why?”

“The Breserya. They took an active role in speaking out against the atrocity Akujia committed against the Zen’in and their stance on chakra control,”

He continued, some strain appearing in his voice. “Somehow, Hina Zen’in and her child have become public knowledge in Konoha, along with new attention on what is happening in Akujia,”

Your mind was reeling with all of the implications of this. Cautiously, you asked, “How does - how does the public feel?”

“Outraged,” he stated.

Your shoulders sagged a bit. At least they weren’t trying to get rid of Hina.

“Why are you giving us this information?” Obito asked in a low tone, leaning directly into the receiver.

“A decision has been made to have another Kage Summit. They are demanding the attendance of someone they believe could have crucial insight that could help decide what actions we take… The same Akujian native and Leaf ninja who aided the last surviving Zen’in and brought them to Konoha for safekeeping,”

You and Obito stared at each other in shock. Your mouth was agape as you tried to comprehend Kakashi’s words. Obito shook his head slowly, a sudden and overwhelming fear for your safety flowing through his body in a tidal wave.

You struggled to swallow with your dry mouth. “You’re joking,”

“I’m sorry,” he sighed out remorsefully.

You couldn’t see it, but his eyes had closed and brows scrunched together while delivering the last bit of news.

“What kind of ‘insight’ could I possibly have?”

“I’m not sure, but I know you’re aware that most of our shinobi countries have such little affiliation with Akujia that we’re essentially in the dark. And with Akujia closing down its borders, it will become incredibly difficult for us to infiltrate for information,”

“I thought you put her here to keep her safe? And now you want to send her who-knows-where?” Obito interjected angrily.

“She’ll be safe with me, Obito,”

“How can you be so sure?” he spat.

“Did we not fight in the same war?”

He inhaled sharply through his nose. You put a hand up to prevent him from speaking further. “It’s not your decision,”

You spoke to Kakashi. “I’m assuming that it would not be taken lightly should I refuse to attend,”

“You would be correct in that assessment,”

“Y/n,” Obito hissed.

“Obito,” you replied warningly, mirroring his narrowed eyes.

“We’ll head out early tomorrow morning for the Land of Iron,” Kakashi cut in.

“I’ll have a bag packed. It should only take a few days, correct?”

“Should everything go accordingly, yes. Please wear your uniform,”

“Of course. We’ll see you tomorrow,”

The call ended. Obito was somewhere between anxious and fuming, so he stomped away to his room, slamming the door shut behind him. You let him, your own anxiety taking priority over his little fit. He would come back out soon enough to either argue or cling to you or both. You had a bag to pack and food to prepare for your absence, and it would be much harder to get that done while he was being clingy.

You went to your room, dug out your uniform from the back of the closet and just stared at the dark material. Another mission in such a short amount of time. Once a person became a shinobi, could they ever truly separate from it? You rubbed the black fabric of your shirt between your fingers. You had wanted to give it up. You wanted a slow life with love and a family and without the worry of leaving your son motherless. How many more times would duty call?

This mission was steeped in uncertainty. You had little to offer the Kages, and less to do with the Akujian atrocities against chakra users. Whatever war you assumed they would begin had no timeframe, and when you add the temperament of a couple of the Kage’s into the mix, it spelled trouble. You mulled over your thoughts while you packed your backpack. You hoped to be of some use, but not enough to keep you away from home any longer than need be. With that in mind, you dropped the heavy bag next to the front door and started for the kitchen.

Obito was in his room another hour before begrudgingly opening his bedroom door. He wanted to be angry with you for deciding to leave, but he couldn’t stay that way for long. He understood that you weren’t really presented with an option, which was really what he was more upset about. That and your safety. He did trust Kakashi and knew how strong he was, but he couldn’t stop the worry. He had just been given a wonderful thing; an opportunity to live a loving life with you and Hikaru. He feared that you wouldn’t make it back to him; it was always a thought in his mind no matter how hard he tried to push it away.

You didn’t speak when he joined you in the kitchen. He stood next to you with his arms crossed, also in silence while you worked. He wanted you to break the ice, but you would not be starting any amends when he was the one who had thrown the fit. He was responsible for himself and he knew it.

Eventually, he did break the silence with a long sigh. His arms fell to his sides before he moved to snake them around your waist. He tucked his face into your neck and murmured, “I’m sorry,” into your hair.

“For what?”

He huffed and paused, trying to find his words. “For getting upset with you when you didn’t have a real choice,”

You let the words sink in before responding. “Thank you. I’ll accept your apology,”

“Good.” He turned you around so that you were facing him and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

You couldn’t help but smile and reach up on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. He followed you back down and the two of you shared a slow kiss that left you feeling dizzy, butterflies erupting in your stomach. You let out a small giggle and he pulled you closer, intoxicated by you for what felt like the millionth time. He just couldn’t get enough.

“I’m gonna miss you,” you whispered against his lips.

“Shhhh, I don’t want to talk about it,”

You nodded and resumed the languid caress of your lips. He was so good at making you lose track of time when he had you in his arms like this. Everything slowed and your mind ceased its usual race. Your fingers carded through his hair and his thumb traced circles at your hip, slipping just beneath your shirt. You melted into his touch just as he did yours; harmonies found within each other’s embrace.

A knock on the door as the female Anbu - a fox - let Hikaru in, broke you and Obito apart. You waved to her and she nodded back before closing the door behind her. Hikaru ambled up to the two of you, and your situation was brought back to the forefront of your mind. Guilt began to gnaw at you as you smiled down at your son.

“Hey sweetheart, how was school?”

…

The air still smelled of fresh bread and rosemary, mixed with the sweetness of the garden flowers that wafted in through your opened window. It was balmy, but a gentle breeze flowed through the home, carrying on it the singing of cicadas and the twittering of birds that overpowered the low hum of the dishwasher. The sunset cast warm rays onto your clean countertops and over your body as you twirled in your long dress, the skirts swishing gracefully around your ankles.

Obito pulled you against his chest with a handsome, loving smile that glowed in the light. Your eyes fluttered shut; the feeling of warmth against your skin lulling you in your already serene state. You felt him press a kiss to the top of your head and you gave your intertwined fingers a gentle squeeze.

Your eyes blinked open to the bedroom, still cold from the waning winter. You groaned aloud and snapped your eyes shut, curling in on yourself under the heavy quilt. Of course it was a dream. The best ones always came before difficult times. You attempted to cling to the peace of the dream, but when it continued to slip from your mind you surrendered and let it go. There was another journey to be had, whether you wanted it or not.

You and Obito had spent the evening cuddling and discussing your departure and what to do with Hikaru while you were away. You were hoping to be back by Sunday, but you could never be sure, so you wrote down all sorts of information for him that he didn’t really need. Obito was incredibly observant and had already picked up on all of the habits, likes and dislikes of your little one, so you weren’t worried.

Stretching, you eyed the door and wondered if Obito was already up. It was likely that he was awake in bed, waiting for you like a hound waits at the door for its owner every morning. You crept out of bed and quietly opened the door to make your way to the kitchen. Surprisingly, you smelled something suspiciously like breakfast the moment it opened.

In the kitchen, Obito ladled mix into the waffle maker, chopped fruit and the whipped cream you made the night before spread out on the countertop next to him. You flashed him a giddy smile when he turned to see you approaching and without warning hopped up into his arms and pressed wet kisses on both of his cheeks and mouth.

He just barely caught you and set you down on the opposite counter, taking a place between your legs. He chuckled. “Well, good morning to you, too,”

“You are the absolute best, you know that?” you gushed, smooshing his cheeks in your hands.

His eyes glittered with joy. “Anything for you,”

You held in a squeal; warmth filling your chest and heart fluttering. You couldn’t help but kiss all over his face again and he let out a delighted laugh before directing you to his lips. One of the waffles burnt while you shared a heated kiss, but neither of you particularly cared at that moment.

He let you go to toss it and put one of the already made waffles onto a plate for you. He decorated it with fruit and whipped cream and handed it to you with a beaming smile that you swore was brighter than the sun lighting the room. Your eyes roved over him, taking in his bedhead, dark hair spiky in all the wrong places, the lines circling his face, faded hickies, the adorable crinkles in the corner of his eyes as he hovered just in front of you, like he couldn’t stand to stay away.

“I love you,” you blurted.

His pretty brown eyes widened, and just when you thought his smile would drop, it became impossibly larger. “You… love me?”

You nodded, almost bashfully. Everything happened in a blink of an eye. Your plate was wrenched from your grasp and tossed haphazardly on the counter before you were scooped up into his arms and he was covering you in kisses. Your joyful laughter echoed in the space and sounded like the sweet ringing of bells to his ears.

When you looked back into his eyes, they glowed with the Sharingan.

“Say it again,” he said softly.

You could feel the heat all over your face and neck. “I love you,”

He squeezed you so tightly you couldn’t breathe.

“Obito!” you gasped.

He loosened his grip just barely and you sucked in a breath. He didn’t sound apologetic at all when he whispered, “Sorry,” into your ear.

He set you back down on the counter and you gazed into each other’s eyes like lovesick fools. The little smack of bare feet against hardwood entered your sphere and you looked around to see Hikaru running out of the hallway. Obito pressed his lips to your cheek while you were turned.

“Oh shit,” he said, looking down beside you.

“Wha- Oh, Obito,”

The plate he had tossed was broken in two, a mess of sticky fruit on the counter next to you. You decided to ignore it and slipped off the counter to pick Hikaru up. He threw his little arms around your neck and pointed at Obito’s accident.

“Mommy made mess!”

“You’re right, buddy. Your mommy did make a big mess,” Obito said and you elbowed his side.

“Ouch,” he laughed.

You set Hikaru up for breakfast, messing up his hair before making yourself a plate. It was a slow process, seeing as Obito couldn’t stop touching you the whole time, but well worth it. You couldn’t help but think that if Hikaru were any older, he would be making fake puking sounds at the two of you.

You had just sat down and taken a bite when there was a knock on your front door, signaling Kakashi’s arrival. He came in wearing the full Hokage get-up. You realized at that moment you hadn’t had a chance to change.

“Good morning,” you called, getting up and rushing past him to go get dressed.

You hurriedly pulled on your uniform while Kakashi waited in the kitchen with Obito and Hikaru.

“I’ve never seen you look so happy,” Kakashi commented.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy,” Obito replied, still high on your words.

Hikaru shoved a bite of waffle into Obito’s mouth. He chewed it up without even blinking, much to Kakashi’s surprise. Obito frowned suddenly, as if a rancid thought had crossed his mind.

“And now you’ve come to take it away,”

“Only for a few days,” Kakashi replied immediately, trying to reassure his friend.

“A few days too long,” Obito muttered sullenly.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” you called out in a sing-song as you came down the hallway.

You were fully dressed, and Obito once again had to take a moment to appreciate you. He loved how sleek and powerful you looked in your uniform, like you could take on even the worst of the worst with that little attitude you took in it. He glanced at Kakashi who was already looking at him.

“Obito, did you hear a word I said?” You asked, a hand going to your hip.

“Uh, yeah,”

“What did I say?”

“Uhm…. I don’t know,”

You chuckled. “I asked if you thought you had everything under control,”

“Oh, yeah, for sure,” he replied a little more confidently than he felt.

“Good,” you approached him and gave him a quick peck. “I’ll be back soon,”

You then pulled Hikaru into a big hug and gave his cheeks a few playful smooches. Obito looked at Kakashi’s raised brow and the red tinting the tips of his ears and raised his own brow back. He felt his pride swell to a ridiculous height. He was all ego the second you put Hikaru down, standing up and pulling you in for a deeper kiss.

You pushed back on his chest. In a scandalized tone you gasped, “Obito!”

He shot you a devilish grin and a wink that would be occupying your mind for the next few nights you were away. You decided he would definitely be paying for that when you returned.

He didn’t apologize, just told you a quick goodbye and that he would miss you before you were carted off by Kakashi, who was very suddenly in a rush.

Taglist: @mostlyunsure, @humongousdreamlandbear, @ichaichahatake, @mandy-yeager, @detectivestucks, @faces-ofvenus

#naruto #x reader #obito uchiha #x y/n #obito x reader #obito uchiha x reader #au #kakashi hatake #obito lives au

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