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thewulf · 6 months ago

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The Quiet Between || Azriel

Summary: Request -Hiyaaa loved your Az story. So freaking good. I had one in mind and wonder if you could write it? Maybe some deep Azriel and reader angst? I'm picturing a scene where Azriel, drowning under his duties and secrets snaps harshly at the reader, our newest healer at the Night Court when she gently suggests he talks about what’s weighing on him. His words sting, making her doubt her role at the court... Read Rest Here

A/N: Whew this was challenging to write but I really love how it turned out! Please let me know how you like it below. And as always, keep sending in your requests!

Pairing: Azriel x Female Reader (Dawn Court Reader)

Word Count: 6.2k +

TW: Mean Az, Harsh Words (soft ending!)

When Madja, the esteemed healer of the Night Court, realized the growing demands of her duties required an apprentice she petitioned the High Lord for permission to seek out a promising candidate. Her search led her to Dawn Court where your skills and unique approach to healing caught her attention. Impressed, as she often wasn’t, she offered you the chance to study under her. A chance to take over for her in a few hundred years. It was a proposition that both excited and terrified you. Normally you were more risk-averse but something within urged you not to let this opportunity slip by. Accepting the offer might be a decision you'd regret forever if declined.

Your arrival at the Night Court was a mix of awe and overwhelming pressure. You were acutely aware of the Court’s reputation with its warriors and schemers, and its dances of politics and power. Yet, as the years unfolded you found more than just acceptance. You found a place where you felt like you just might belong. Madja was an exacting teacher and under her guidance you thrived. Your skills became indispensable to the Night Court.

Mor, your favorite social butterfly, took it upon herself to integrate you into the Court's vibrant life. She invited you out with the girls to Rita's where the music and laughter helped weave you deeper into the fabric of Night Court society. Cassian with his easy grin and boundless energy offered to train you in physical defense. He said it was essential for everyone at the Court to know how to protect themselves. And even Rhysand himself showed you how to fortify your mental shields as a necessary skill amidst the intrigues that often played out around them.

Yet despite these warm inclusions, Azriel was the only one who kept a cautious distance. The shadowy spymaster was polite but reserved. He often watched you with a contemplative gaze that suggested he was trying to figure you out from a safe distance. His reluctance to engage was not overtly hostile but it was clear he held reservations. His own shadows clinging too tightly, perhaps, to allow another close. This delicate balance of respect and curiosity marked your interactions, or lack thereof, with the spymaster. You often caught glimpses of Azriel as his presence like a whisper in the vast halls of the Court. He was always just out of reach, both physically and emotionally. His aloofness didn't hinder your duties. But it did create a space of unanswered questions in your mind.

One cool evening in the Night Court the opportunity to bridge that distance between him presented itself unexpectedly. Azriel returned from a particularly grueling mission. His arrival unannounced except for the quiet clatter of his boots in the hallway of the healer's quarters. As he pushed open the door, the grimace etched across his face spoke volumes of the pain he was enduring, both visible and hidden beneath the surface.

You ushered him in, your professional demeanor in place yet your heart beating a tad faster with the realization that this was the closest you had ever been to him. His usually guarded expression was replaced with a rare, unguarded grimace of pain. It revealed a vulnerability he typically masked beneath layers of shadows and silence making you feel a touch uneasy.

"Let me help," you offered softly while guiding him to a seat where you could better assess his injuries. The proximity to him in this moment tending to his wound felt like an unspoken permission to finally address the silent questions that had lingered between you. It was an opening to understand the man who had so thoroughly perfected the art of being untouchable.

"Let's take a look at that," you murmur while taking his hand in yours. Your hands are steady and careful as you gently peel away the fabric near his wound. The cut isn't deep, but it's laced with poison, enough to have caused significant discomfort. “I’m sorry. This is going to sting.” You whispered as you rushed off to grab the needed supplies.

As you apply a soothing salve you notice Azriel's clenched jaw and the way his muscles tighten under your touch—not just from the sting of the wound. You've seen warriors in all states, and you recognize the signs of inner turmoil as clearly as physical injuries.

"Azriel," you start, your voice soft but firm, "even the strongest warriors can benefit from sharing their burdens. It doesn't make you weak to speak about what's weighing on your heart." You try and sound confident in your words, but it comes out as meek.

His reaction is immediate and sharp. It cut through the air like a freshly sharpened knife. Azriel's eyes snap up to meet your with a coldness in them that freezes you in place. "You think you have the right to offer me counsel?" he says with his voice low and biting. "You, who have barely seen a fraction of the darkness I have faced. Yet you presume to understand my duties, my sacrifices?"

You open your mouth to apologize. To clarify your intentions but he doesn't give you the chance. "No, don’t," he snaps. Cutting you off as your heart begins to sink. "Don’t patronize me with platitudes and naive compassion. You know nothing of the burdens I carry. Of the secrets that consume me. You see surface wounds and think to heal a soul scarred by centuries?" It was the most you had heard him speak and unfortunately for you those words made your heart nearly twist in two. Surely that wasn’t what you were trying to do.

Your eyes begin to burn. His words slicing through any defense you might have had. You look down instead focusing on the bandage. To hide the hurt that’s welling up, threatening to spill over. "I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—"

"Save your apologies," Azriel interrupts with a tone as harsh as a winter storm. "They mean nothing in the face of what I endure daily. You wish to help? Do so by not overstepping your bounds again." You drop his arm after finishing up removing the poison and sealing the cut. But he wasn’t done, no. You just wished he’d fly away instead of cutting you even deeper. You had no intention of offending him yet here he was, hurt by your very own words. You’d never truly felt like a helpless child in all your centuries until this very moment.

As he continues his words grow even colder, each one a deliberate stake right into your very own heart. "Understand this, healer. My life, my pains are not fodder for idle chatter or curious minds seeking to 'fix' what they perceive as broken. You cannot begin to comprehend the wars I fight within the shadows. Wars meant to protect you and everyone else here from horrors you should hope never to encounter." His words were final, offering you no chance at rebuttal. Not that you would have been able to find the words. Your mind was racing in horror about what had just transpired in your very own healing hall. You, the one who was meant to mend broken souls might’ve just torn his right back open.

He stands abruptly with his wound tended but the air around him colder than the stone walls of the court. His departure is swift, leaving a wake of silence so deep it echoes through the chamber. You're left alone with the sting of his rebuke more painful than any physical wound you've treated. His words replay in your mind as a harsh reminder of the chasm between his world of shadows and your desire to heal. Guilt begins to consume you as you replay the words that struck you so hardly in your mind.

The room feels overwhelmingly empty as you struggle to compose yourself. The impact of his dismissal weighing heavily on your heart. You realize that healing Azriel might be beyond your reach. Not for lack of skill, but because the wounds he carries are far deeper and more complex than you ever imagined. Perplexed and deeply hurt you find yourself grappling with a tumult of emotions. Confusion is the first to surface. You had approached the situation with genuine concern. Your offer to listen driven by the empathy that defines your role as a healer. His aggressive response, then, feels like an undeserved refusal. A dismissal not just of your words but of your very intent.

You replay the conversation in your mind, dissecting each exchange, each barbed word. His accusation that you, nestled in your world of herbs and healing, could never understand the scope of his darkness stings sharply. It's true though you realize. That the depths of his secrets are beyond your grasp. This acknowledgment doesn't ease the sting of rejection. If anything, it deepens the wound. You had not claimed to understand. You only wanted to listen. And yet, he had cut you off, leaving no room for reconciliation.

As the initial shock fades, a deeper, more persistent ache settles in. You're hurt. Undeniably so. Hurt by his insinuation that your attempts at comfort were trivial, naive even. Does he truly see you as just another court member? As just a healer? Naive to the true workings of his world? The thought is disheartening, and you feel a profound sense of isolation creeping in. A sense that perhaps you are out of your depth in this court of shadows and secrets. Perhaps your mother was right. You weren’t built for the Night Court. You had a wonderful, easy life in Dawn. She had even picked out a high-ranking husband for you that would’ve provided and kept you safe. Her nagging words pricked at the back of your mind as the last five years here almost fell all for nothing. Five years was no time in the world of fae, you knew this. You were still the new healer, but you had thought that maybe you were finally finding your footing here. But then again maybe you were wrong.

Yet, beyond the hurt and confusion there's also a glimmer of resolve. You're a healer, trained not only to mend wounds but to understand the people you treat. Azriel's outburst, though harsh, reveals more than his disdain. It highlights his immense burden. His profound isolation. Perhaps your approach was too direct. Too unguarded for someone so accustomed to concealing his emotions.

As you clean up the space a quiet resolution forms in your mind. You won't push him again, no, not without invitation. The sting of his words lingers, and you decide that perhaps the best way to handle this is to give him the space he seems to fiercely guard. He may have dismissed your concern today but it's clear that what he desires most is distance. Not the compassion you offered. In this moment of reflection, you recognize the complexity of healing. It’s not just about tending to visible wounds. It’s also about understanding when to step back. Recognizing that some scars are too deeply etched to be approached without consent. Azriel has his walls, high and fortified. And you, you decide, will no longer attempt to scale them. Instead, you resolve to avoid him, believing that distancing yourself is the kindest thing you can do for him right now.

This decision doesn't come easy. You're a healer, trained to offer solace and aid to those in pain. Yet, in this case, the healing you want to provide is not welcomed or perhaps even needed in the way you thought. You accept that sometimes healing means stepping back. It means allowing wounds to close in the solitude they were opened in. Maybe with time he will seek you out if ever he feels ready to lower his guard. Until then you'll focus on those who welcome your help carrying with you the lesson that sometimes the best way to care for someone is simply to let them be.

After the confrontation in the healing room the atmosphere at the Night Court seemed to shift becoming dense with an unspoken tension that hung heavily in the air. Azriel quickly became burdened by the discomfort of his own harshness. It wasn’t often but he felt an acute sting of regret. His words, sharper and colder than he had intended, replayed relentlessly in his mind. Each sentence an echo of a reminder of the pain he had inflicted on somebody so kind.

Late into the night he found himself wandering the quieter corridors of the court trying to clear his mind.. The stone beneath his feet was cold and unyielding much like the mask he wore so well. With each step he attempted to outpace his regret, but solitude brought no relief. The memory of the genuine shock and sadness in your eyes haunted him. A vivid image that refused to fade into the shadows where he so often retreated.

Why had he lashed out? Azriel questioned himself. His normally composed thoughts unraveling with unusual disorder. He knew the stress of his duties as the spymaster often left him on edge, a blade perpetually sharpened and ready. Yet, it was more than just the strain of his role. It was the fear of vulnerability. Of opening those darker parts of himself he fought so hard to control. Seeing your concern, so innocent and genuine, had somehow threatened the walls he had meticulously built around his emotions for centuries. He couldn’t become undone by your one simple question.

He hated himself for how he had responded to you. How his instinct to protect his inner turmoil had manifested as cruelty towards you. The more he thought about it the more he despised the part of himself that had become so adept at pushing others away, especially those who dared to care.

As Azriel continued his nocturnal wanderings the shadows around him seemed to whisper of solitude and sorrow. Yet, it was the sorrow in your eyes that lingered most prominently in his mind. He realized then that his actions might not only have hurt you but could also have damaged whatever budding respect or friendship could have grown between you. This thought tightened the already constricting band around his chest. He had messed up badly and he knew it. His shadows knew it.

Resolving to seek redemption, not just for his peace but to mend the fracture he had caused, Azriel decided he would apologize to you. He needed to explain to you. To make you understand that his outburst wasn’t a reflection of his feelings towards you but a misguided defense against his own insecurities.

His journey through the night didn’t erase his regrets, but it solidified his resolve. He would try to bridge the gap his words had created hoping that you would understand and perhaps forgive. In the quiet before dawn Azriel finally stopped walking, the decision firm in his mind. Tomorrow, he would face you again, not as the Night Court's daunting spymaster, but simply as Azriel… imperfect and remorseful.

As he moved silently past the gardens the moonlight cast a serene glow over the night-blooming flowers illuminating the path with a ghostly light. Drawn by the soft, muffled sounds of distress his shadows unconsciously steered him towards a secluded alcove hidden by tendrils of ivy and the long shadows of the towering trees. It was unmistakably you. His heart tightened as he approached. Driven by a mix of concern and a need to understand the impact of his earlier harshness.

There in the dim light, he found you seated on a small bench. You were not alone, but with one of the younger assistants from the healer's quarters he had recognized. The assistant, whom you often mentored, sat beside you with a hand on your shoulder. Her presence meant to support you as you struggled with a flood of emotions.

"I don’t know any more Helena. Maybe I just don't belong here," you whispered between sobs. Your voice shaky with uncertainty. Tears streamed down your cheeks unrestrained after holding them back for so long. Azriel's words had not just stung. They had acted as a dam break, releasing all the pent-up doubts and fears you had about your place in this illustrious court. "I keep thinking maybe I should just go back to Dawn. My very own mother always said I was chasing a fantasy coming here. Maybe she's right. Maybe a quieter life away from all this would be better for me. Maybe I’m not cut out for the Night Court."

The young assistant, Helena, looked up to you not only for your healing skills but also for your kindness and leadership. She listened intently. Her expression one of deep empathy and concern. "You can't think that way," she responded softly. Her voice earnest. "Everyone here, especially Madja, respects you so much. Cassian, Mor, even Rhysand—they all see how much you bring to our home. It's not just you’re healing. It's your spirit. You're meant to be here with us. Please don’t think like that. I’ve learned more than I ever thought possible from you. We need you here."

Her comforting words were meant to bolster your spirits, but the reassurance felt hollow against the backdrop of your raw emotions. Despite her encouraging tone, the doubts seeded by Azriel's harsh outburst lingered. They tainted your thoughts with shadows of uncertainty about your place in this world you had grown to love yet still sometimes felt alien in.

Azriel was hidden just out of sight. He felt a deep pang of regret as he listened. The raw pain in your voice and the sight of your tears struck him more profoundly than he had ever expected. He realized then that his careless words had cut far deeper than he had intended, not just challenging your confidence but piercing the very core of your sense of belonging. Knowing that an apology would be necessary but not sufficient, Azriel resolved to actively show that you were valued and essential. Not just as a healer but as a vital member of their community. His thoughts solidified in the quiet of the night. He would make amends, starting with a heartfelt apology and followed by actions that would hopefully restore your faith in your place at the Night Court.

It was an ordinary yet busy day in the healer's quarters of the Night Court. You were deeply focused on tending to a young fae warrior who had sustained a minor but painful injury during training. As you carefully applied a healing salve the sound of urgent voices and heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway.

"He needs help now!" Azriel's voice carried a tone of dire urgency as he burst into the room. He was supporting a limping Cassian whose leg was bleeding profusely from a deep gash surely laced with poison. These damn Illyrians always coming back with some form of poisoned injury. The sight of such an injury would normally have you on your feet and rushing over. But the presence of Azriel, the harbinger of your recent heartache, gave you pause.

For a split second your gaze met Azriel's and the memory of his harsh words and cold dismissal surged through your mind. You looked away as quickly as you could. Your chest immediately tightened with anxiety at the thought of what to do. It wasn’t fair to Cassian to ignore him, but you didn’t think you could face Azriel right now. Terrified of another confrontation and still raw from the last you quickly turned your attention back to the young fae before you.

"This one's in a critical state, I need to focus here. Helena, please attend to the General." you called out your voice slightly louder than necessary. The lie laid bitter on your tongue. It wasn't entirely untrue. His injury did need attention, but it certainly wasn't as dire as Cassian's condition.

Helena, who had followed in behind Azriel and Cassian, quickly stepped forward to assist, sensing the tension. "I've got him, don't worry," she spoke as she moved to tend to Cassian with a swift efficiency that you were grateful for.

As you focused intently on the young fae's injury with your back turned to the drama unfolding behind you, you heard every strained whisper and shuffling footstep echoed ominously. Despite your efforts to concentrate your mind spun with anxiety and dread. You knew your actions were a protective shield guarding you from a confrontation you felt unprepared to handle.

Behind you, Azriel's concern for Cassian was palpable. His usual stoic demeanor was pierced by urgency. His voice a low, constant murmur as he assisted your assistant. Yet, his mind was partly on you. He was troubled by the palpable tension and the rigid set of your shoulders. The memory of his previous harshness towards you weighed heavily on him, mixing regret with a newfound caution. He wondered if his actions had broken something essential. Perhaps fearing that your trust in him might be irreparably damaged.

Cassian, despite his pain noticed the strained dynamics as well. As your assistant worked on his wound his eyes flicked towards you, then back to Azriel. "What happened between you two?" he hissed under his breath not missing the unusual distance you kept. Azriel's silence was an answer in itself. It was filled with remorse and resignation. Cassian's frown deepened. Concern for his friends overshadowing his physical discomfort. "You need to fix this, Az," he muttered, firm yet worried. "She’s not just any healer. She’s part of this family now. She’s going to replace Madja someday."

Once the immediate crisis was handled and Cassian was stable Azriel made his way towards you. His steps were hesitant, each one heavy with regret. When he paused by your side his presence felt like a cold shadow. His usual warmth for his family became obscured by the barrier that had formed between you.

"Thank you," he said softly. His voice low and perhaps understanding more than you wanted him to. "For all that you do here." You sucked in a breath at his words. Was he apologizing? Was he sorry? Were you completely misreading the situation yet again?

You didn't turn to face him. Fear of what you might see in his eyes—anger, disappointment, or worse, indifference—kept you fixed in place. "Of course," you managed to whisper. The words barely escaping your lips. He sensed that this wasn’t the time nor place to dig deeper so he resolved to keep his words simple. He would find you later when you weren’t busy working. He truly needed to apologize to you.

After he left the weight of the encounter settled heavily upon you. You felt a mix of relief at having avoided direct confrontation and a deep-seated guilt for your evasion. You knew this wasn't just about professional duties. It was about the fractures within a team, a family you had grown to cherish.

Later, as the healer’s quarters quieted and the evening settled in, Cassian found you in the gardens, where the night’s cool air seemed to echo the chill in your own thoughts. It was your favorite place to relax and unwind. Your sanctuary in the chaos that was the Night Court. He approached with a confident stride despite his recent injury and his expression was serious.

"Hey," he started. His voice carrying a hint of his usual directness mixed with concern. "Things were off between you and Az today. He’s worried, and frankly, so am I. We’ve all had our rough patches, but we don’t let that drive a wedge between us. Yeah?"

You paused, looking down at your growing herbs rather than meeting his gaze. You let out a soft sigh before answering him. "I’m just scared, Cass. I’m worried I’ll say the wrong thing again. It’s like... I’m tiptoeing around landmines with him. How do I even start to fix that?"

Cassian nodded. His features softening slightly. "Az can be intense. I won’t argue with that. But he’s also one of the most upright guys I know. Just be honest with him. Tell him you’re trying to avoid making things worse. He respects straightforwardness. Always has." He took a step closer, lowering his voice. "And remember, it’s not just about avoiding the landmines. It’s about clearing the field. Start with the truth. It’s always been the best foundation for us here, no matter how hard it might be."

You nodded appreciating his words. He was right. The truth got you so much further. "Thanks, Cass," you replied feeling a resolve begin to form. "I think I’ll talk to him. Just lay everything out."

"That’s the way," Cassian said with a brief nod. "We’re all here together, and we keep no secrets... save Azriel,” He smirked knowing that’s likely what got the two of you in the situation in the first place. “At least not the kind that hurt. If you're honest, he’ll listen. And if there’s anyone who can understand the value of facing hard truths, it’s Azriel."

As Cassian left you to your thoughts the weight on your shoulders didn't lift entirely but you felt more prepared to face the challenge ahead. Honesty would be your approach; you would share your fears with Azriel, hoping that it would bridge the gap between you. After all, in the Night Court, even the darkest shadows were faced together, not alone.

The next night you found yourself back in the serene confines of your herb garden where the evening light softened the edges of each leaf and petal. You were deeply absorbed in tending to a cluster of chamomile. The quiet focus on your plants provided a necessary reprieve from the swirling anxieties that had occupied your thoughts lately. However, your calm shattered when a shadow loomed unexpectedly over you. Azriel.

Startled, you looked up, only to find him standing there watching you with a curiosity you’d never seen from him before. His sudden presence was imposing and unexpectedly close and sent a rush of panic through you. His height and the intensity in his eyes seemed to fill the space making the air around you feel thinner.

"Oh! Azriel, you surprised me! I didn’t hear you walk over," you blurted out. A nervous chuckle escaping you as you hastily tried to gather your scattered wits. "I was just, um, focusing here, and—you know, plants don’t really talk back, so I guess I wasn't expecting any company."

He paused after noting your discomfort. "I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you," he said gently. His voice a soothing rumble. "I came to apologize. For the last time we spoke. I was too harsh. It was unfair to you."

Your response tumbled out in a rush. Your words tripping over each other. "No, no, it’s fine, really. I mean, not fine fine, but you know… I should’ve been more aware or something. I’m usually not this jumpy, I swear. Maybe a little—actually, maybe a lot right now because, well, you're kind of, um, imposing? And this wasn’t how I imagined our next conversation going..."

Azriel’s slight smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, but it did appear to carry a hint of amusement at your rambling. "I appreciate you saying that, but truly, I am the one who should be apologizing. I’ve thought a lot about what I said... and I regret it deeply. You didn’t deserve that." He took another step toward you as you stood.

You swallowed hard trying to steady your racing heart. "Why are you apologizing now?" you managed to ask feeling suddenly very aware of how close he was standing. The question felt bold, but your voice was anything but confident.

He took a slight step back giving you a bit more space. "Because I realized I might have made you feel unwelcome or undervalued here and that’s… that’s the last thing I want. We all need to support each other, and I failed in that moment. I want to make it right if you’ll let me."

Your mind raced with every thought, but you nodded feeling a mix of apprehension and relief. "I... yeah, I’d like that. I’ve been feeling a bit lost here. Like maybe I don’t belong. It’s been tough, and, well, your words stung. But maybe, I don’t know, maybe we can start over? Try to understand each other a bit more?" As you offered him a tentative smile the garden seemed to return to its peaceful state. The earlier tension dissipating slightly.

Azriel’s gaze softened with a rare flicker of amusement lighting his eyes as he noticed your unease. "You handle the complexities of healing with such ease," he commented with a slight tease in his voice, "yet you seem quite disarmed by a rather simple conversation."

You gave a small self-conscious laugh appreciating his attempt to lighten the mood. "Well, it's one thing to deal with herbs and potions. They tend not to talk back. It's another to navigate apologies and emotions. Especially with someone who usually keeps his cards so close to his chest."

He smiled and it transformed his face, softening the usual stern lines. "Fair enough," he conceded. Then, his expression turned more serious. The playful glint replaced by a depth of sincerity. "I really am sorry, though. For everything. I know I keep saying it, but it’s because I mean it. I’ve been... difficult towards you these last few years. And I don’t want to burden you with the things I’ve carried. Of the decisions I've had to make. It’s not your weight to bear."

You listened, understanding dawning as you saw the heavy cloak of responsibility he wore. Something that was so integral to his identity yet so isolating. "Maybe not," you replied softly, "but sharing those burdens doesn’t mean you're passing them on. It just means you’re not alone with them anymore. We can share without it being a burden. Sometimes, sharing is how we heal."

Azriel looked at you with something like wonder flickering in his gaze. "I suppose you’re right," he admitted. "It’s just not easy for me. I’ve always thought keeping my troubles to myself was a way to protect others. But maybe... maybe I’ve been wrong about that." The conversation deepened as each of you explored the nuances of forgiveness and the strength found in mutual understanding and empathy. Azriel learned about the power of vulnerability. Not as a spymaster but as a man. And he saw how your empathy and gentle nature enriched the court in ways that strategy and strength could not.

"I've kept many secrets," Azriel confessed. His voice a soft murmur against the backdrop of rustling leaves. "Not because I enjoy the solitude but because I fear the consequences of those secrets unraveling."

"You don’t have to tell me everything," you assured him. "Just knowing that you trust me enough to admit you have these secrets is a step. We all have secrets Azriel. What matters is how we face them and who stands with us when we do."

Azriel nodded. The corners of his eyes crinkling slightly as he smiled. A real smile that reached his eyes. "Thank you for understanding."

You nodded but still felt a nagging question at the bottom of your heart. The gardens around you seemed to hold their breath as you voiced a concern that had been shadowing your thoughts. "Azriel, back when you... when you were upset. You called me 'healer.' Is that… is that all you see me as?" Your insecurity got the better of you. The question sounded so much more childish as you asked it aloud, but you needed to know the answer.

Azriel’s expression changed instantly. The regret in his eyes unmistakable. "Gods, I am so sorry, Y/N. I was angry and overwhelmed and I unfairly took it out on you." His voice was thick with remorse. His usual stoicism giving way to a rare openness. "You are so much more than just a healer to us, to me. I should never have made you feel otherwise." Seeing the sincerity in his gaze you felt a complex knot of emotions begin to untangle. Yet, there was still a shadow of sadness in your eyes. A remnant of the hurt his words had caused.

Noticing this, Azriel did something completely unexpected. He stepped closer. His presence enveloping you whole, and hesitantly, almost awkwardly he opened his arms. "May I?" he asked softly giving you the choice.

With a small nod you stepped into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. It was a rare gesture from him as he was known for his guarded nature. It spoke volumes of his regret and his desire to make amends. His shadows ever a part of him, seemed to curl around the both of you gently. A comforting whisper against your skin.

As you stood there held in his careful embrace Azriel spoke again, his voice gentler than you had ever heard. "I’m truly sorry, Y/N. For everything. I let my anger and frustrations dictate my actions and you bore the brunt of that. I promise you this, I will do better. You deserve better."

Pulling back slightly he looked down into your eyes, ensuring you could see the truth in his. "Thank you for giving me the chance to apologize, to make things right. I don’t take your forgiveness lightly."

Your heart that was once heavy with doubt and hurt now fluttered with a burgeoning sense of renewed connection. "Thank you, Azriel, for understanding, for this," you said, your voice steady despite the emotions brimming within.

This conversation that was once a tentative path to reconciliation had blossomed into something deeper. A genuine connection fostered by understanding and shared vulnerabilities. Azriel's willingness to show his softer side, to bridge the gap with both an apology and a hug, marked a new chapter in your relationship. One filled with potential for even greater understanding and closeness. Together in the quiet of the herb garden you both began to navigate a path toward healing. Your relationship strengthened by the honesty and empathy of your exchange. It was a tentative step forward. One filled with potential for deeper understanding and a strengthened connection.

As the weeks turned into months, the atmosphere between you and Azriel visibly shifted. You both continued with your roles at the Night Court—Azriel, cloaked in shadows as the spymaster, and you, weaving magic and medicine as a healer. The sharp edges of earlier interactions softened replaced by a mutual respect and an unspoken understanding that grew with each passing day.

One evening during a relaxed gathering at the Night Court, the air was filled with the soft murmur of conversations and the warm laughter of friends and allies. Under the gentle glow of twilight you found yourself beside Azriel discussing something that excited you greatly—a plan for a new herb garden specifically designed for healing and restorative properties.

As you outlined your ideas your enthusiasm was palpable. "I’ve been researching some rare herbs that could thrive here under the Night’s eternal stars," you explained with your hands gesturing animatedly. "There’s this one flower, Lumina Blossom, known for its potent healing capabilities with poison but incredibly rare. I think with the right care, we could cultivate it here."

Azriel watched you with a soft smile playing on his lips as he listened intently. The usual shadows that clung to him seemed to lift slightly instead replaced by a light of curiosity sparked by your passion. It was a stark contrast to the brooding intensity he was known for. His gaze was fixed on you, clearly fascinated by your knowledge and the excitement that lit up your features.

"Have you considered adding Dawnlight Belle to your garden?" he suggested. His tone encouraging but slightly hesitant, as if he were treading on unfamiliar ground. "I've heard it's a good one. Especially for salves used in treating deep wounds, which unfortunately, we encounter often here."

You paused, your expression a mix of surprise and delight. "Azriel, I'm impressed you’ve heard of Dawnlight Belle," you said while nodding enthusiastically. "Yes, it's remarkably effective for healing deep wounds and incorporating it here would indeed be incredibly beneficial. It's also a bit of home but with a practical use for the Night Court."

Azriel’s smile widened slightly. His usual reserve melting away in the warmth of the conversation. "I thought it might be useful," he said softly. "It’s important to have pieces of home with us. And you’ve done so much to find your place here. It’s only fitting your garden does the same."

The conversation flowed easily between you as it slowly had come to. And as you spoke more about your plans Azriel's responses were thoughtful, showing his deep respect for your work. It was clear that he was not only listening but also truly engaged in what you were sharing.

As the evening wore on you found yourself more relaxed and open to discussing your hopes and dreams for the garden. Azriel's attentiveness and the sincere interest he showed in your passions brought a new depth to your interaction. A sense that something meaningful was blossoming between you, rooted in mutual respect and a shared sense of purpose.

Together you sketched out potential layouts for the garden. His strategic mind complementing your creative vision. The project that was born from a casual conversation was shaping up to be a beautiful symbol of regeneration and unity. It was a confirmation to the growing relationship forming between you as you both discovered the joy of collaboration and mutual understanding.

From across the way Cassian caught Rhysand and Feyre’s attention, nodding subtly towards you and Azriel with a wide grin. "Look at that," he chuckled. "Seems our resident shadowsinger has found a bit of light. Never thought I’d see the day."

Rhys, with a sly grin and a sparkle in his eye that matched the mischief in his voice, glanced over at you two. "Oh, I’d say there’s a bit more than just gardening going on there," he quipped as he leaned back with an air of casual intrigue. "Wouldn’t you agree, Cass? Feyre? It seems our spymaster might just be more enchanted with our lovely healer than he lets on."

Cassian laughed. His loud voice booming across the room. "You're one to talk, Rhys. Just don’t start planning their mating ceremony yet. Let them at least decide if they like each other first."

Feyre, who had been quietly observing the exchange from her place next to Rhysand, chuckled and shook her head. "She seems so good for him I must admit. But don't you dare meddle, Rhysand. We know how that turns out," she teased. Her eyes gleaming with humor. "Remember the Great Cake Incident of '49?"

The group erupted into laughter, including Rhys, who rolled his eyes but couldn't suppress a grin. "Alright, alright, no meddling," he conceded. His voice still laced with laughter. "But for the record, that cake deserved better and meddling here would only help them."

The evening continued with the stars twinkling above as conversations flowed around the room. Your interaction with Azriel, now less guarded and more genuine, did not go unnoticed by those who knew him best. As the night deepened, the easy banter and shared smiles between you and Azriel spoke of something that was quietly strengthening. It was clear to everyone, even without Rhysand’s playful meddling, that something significant was blossoming. Something that went beyond the professional respect of two court members.

Together, you and Azriel discovered that even in a place as mystical and imposing as the Night Court, the true magic lay not just in ancient spells or hidden power but in the connections forged through vulnerability, trust, and perhaps, the beginnings of something deeper.

Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!) : @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @kenn-spencerswifey @guacam011y @illisea @il0vebeingdelulu @hiireadstuff @avada-kedavra-bitch-187

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ecoterrorist-katara · 8 months ago

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Why I feel like Ka/taang is one-sided, despite textual evidence

ATLA does try to convince us that Katara has romantic feelings for Aang. For example: she seems thoughtful when she realizes that Aang is a powerful bender; she’s offended that he didn’t want to kiss her in the Cave of Two Lovers; she gets jealous when Sokka says On Ji and Aang look good together.

So…what’s wrong with anti-Kataangers? Do we just lack media comprehension?

To be clear, on their own, these gestures can indicate romantic interest. But at the same time, we have stuff like “Aang is a sweet little guy, like Momo.” We have her ambivalent facial expression after he kisses her before the eclipse, and her hedging during Ember Island Players, and her anger when he kisses her anyway. In the context of these conflicting cues, Katara’s possibly romantic reactions can absolutely be interpreted in a different way, because:

Acknowledging a friend as a potential romantic interest is not the same as actually being romantically interested in them. (Imo this is something young women struggle with, due to a combination of romance-centrism and heteronormativity that make women feel like they should be in romantic relationships, and that boys and girls who share intimate and deep feelings for one another must be romantically into each other)

Wanting someone to find you desirable is not the same as desiring that person. (Which is something a lot of women, especially young women, struggle with. Remember all the discourse around Cat Person back in 2017?)

Being jealous when someone flirts with your friend is not the same as wanting to be with your friend. (Especially when you see your friends as family, or if you’re accustomed to a specific type of devotion from that friend. It is jealousy, and it is possessiveness, but it doesn’t always arise from romantic feelings)

Growing up in a patriarchal society means that your desires are always filtered through what men want from you, sometimes in an abstract male gaze-y way, and sometimes in a very visceral and interpersonal way when a boy wants you specifically. And Katara’s reactions are just that — reactions. Reactions to what other people — including Aunt Wu, Sokka, Aang himself — have insinuated about her and Aang. She’s not really proactive in her interest in Aang: we don’t really see Aang, romantically, from Katara’s POV. Under the framework of “Katara is reacting to a romantic prospect she’s kind of uncertain about,” it is completely plausible — and indeed likely — that she would sometimes act in ways that indicate romantic interest, in addition to moments where she indicates the opposite.

Ka/taang shippers often bring up other evidence, like Katara’s despair when Azula hits Aang with lightning, or how protective she is of him when Zuko joins the Gaang. The thing is, these pieces of evidence aren’t necessarily indicative of romantic love. The fact that Katara genuinely loves Aang makes the whole thing more complicated, not less, because — especially at that age, especially when Aang is twelve years old and grew up in a sex-segregated society of monks — it is really difficult to tell the difference between platonic love and romantic love. Their mutual devotion is layered and complex yet straightforward in its sincerity. What was not straightforward, until the last five minutes of the show, is whether this devotion on Katara’s end is romantic. The romantic arc for Katara and Aang is not really an arc, as Sneezy discusses in this classic ZK video. Katara actually becomes more conflicted over time and we never see an event that clarifies her feelings. She seems more interested in him in The Headband than on the Day of the Black Sun, and she has never been more hostile to his romantic overtures than in the penultimate episode.

And in light of this, it’s pretty easy for fans to fill in the blanks with a different interpretation: maybe Katara’s weird expression after their kiss at the invasion means she didn’t enjoy it; maybe the kiss made her realize that she doesn’t actually feel that way about Aang; maybe against her will and her better judgement, she’s developing feelings for another person, a person who hurt her and whom she fervently tried to hate until he pulled off what is in my opinion the greatest grovel of all time in the form of a life-changing field trip.��Maybe. Am I saying that Zutara has more romantic interactions than Ka/taang? Of course not. But ironically, the lack of romantic interactions means that it’s not inherently one-sided, the way Ka/taang became in the latter half of season 3.

I’m not arguing that Katara’s unequivocally not into Aang. Obviously the text declares that she is, because they get married and have kids. But I am saying that there’s a very good reason that so many people, especially women, see Katara’s interest in Aang as ambiguous. It’s not because we can’t pick up “subtle” hints of growing affection. It’s because we know not all affection is romantic, and it’s really easy for someone else’s insistent romantic intentions to muddle what you want.

P.S. I first started thinking about these topics (platonic vs romantic love, desiring someone vs wanting to be desired, etc) in the context of compulsory heterosexuality, a term describing how queer women contort themselves into relationships with men even if they’re not really into men. I saw a post a few days ago joking about why so many queer women seem to be into Zutara. I wonder if part of the reason is because as queer women, we are very sensitive to the ways in which we can talk ourselves into wanting things we don’t actually want, and Katara’s romantic interest in Aang can be easily seen that way.

#Anti Kataang #Zutara #anti Bryke #Katara deserved better #From Bryke who offered her so little romantic agency #I actually think Aang and Katara’s mutual devotion is really compelling because the wires get crossed when you have such intense love #And navigating romantic vs platonic feelings can be very complicated and interesting #but no we did not get that bc I guess they just had to end with a romance however shoddily developed #my meta

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ineffablelara · 2 months ago

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Loki and his severe self esteem issues

Something I don't think we as a fandom discuss enough is the moment where Loki casually says "my life was a waste of time" to Mobius in s2ep6, I kinda understand that bc the finale was so traumatazing to some people that they only watched it once and tried their best to not think about it for too long

But this moment stuck with me because he says it with such calmness, there's no bite in his words, no sarcasm, no irony, he truly believes that, he thinks his whole life was a waste of time and this is so incredibly heartbreaking, at that point he already spent centuries trying to fix the loom only to learn it was a failsafe, centuries of his life wasted on a mission that lead to nothing, he probably think his life on the sacred timeline was a waste of time too, I'm so sure he'd do everything different if he could go back there, I'm sure he looks at all the things he did with so much shame and regret, a life wasted with jealousy and bitterness and acting out to get attention of others while being desperate for his father's approval and wanting to be Thor's equal

Even though he only acted that way because of his own trauma too, abandoned as a baby, adopted by a man who had a political agenda in mind when he took him and who made Loki feel unfit and inferior his whole life, raised in a society that looked down at all the things that made him him (magic, tricks, preference for diplomacy instead of fist fighting etc), Loki grew up in a hostile enviroment that only made him insecure and alone, he has severe self esteem issues and all he wanted his whole life was to be accepted and loved by his people and most of all by his father, he chased that approval in the wrong ways and now that he's mature and wiser he understands that but it's still so sad to see him talking about himself like that

He dedicated centuries of his life to doing the right thing, to saving the multiverse and making sure everyone would be safe, he made friends, he became kind and selfless and somehow he still thinks his existence was a mistake, his insecurities are so deep and internalized that I'm afraid he'll never truly be free of them, I wish someone hugged him very tight and told him how amazing and important he is, that his mistakes in the past don't define who he is now and that they're proud of how far he came in his journey

Loki's existence was the greatest gift the multiverse could've asked for, without him everyone would still be part of hwr's schemes and the tva would still be taking away people's free will, I hope his mind changed after the making of Yggdrasil and that he starts looking at himself with more compassion and love bc he deserves it more than anyone at this point

#loki #loki laufeyson #loki series #god of stories #loki meta #loki season 2 #loki season two #loki odinson #loki of asgard #tva loki #the way he says that breaks my heart jnto a million pieces omg that episode destroyed me on so many levels #he deserved so much better #someone please hug him #he deserves to know how loved he is #he's my baby I can't take this anymore #odin allfather #odin

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dailymanners · 5 days ago

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Most people who don't live under a rock can tell you that customer/employee relations have gotten more strained over the past four years.

I worked food service and retail pre-covid, so I know as well as anyone that there have always been difficult customers. But as per my pinned post a lot of evidence suggests there has been increased hostility, especially towards customer service workers, but if you work in a public facing customer service job you probably don't need any studies to tell you that, but having the evidence backed up by studies does help.

There's been some discussion on the why, with anything from "people lost their socialization and ability to behave themselves in public" to "covid affected people's brains and made them more aggressive" to "people were threatened by having rules enforced against them by people they felt should be below them, aka food service and retail workers" and it's likely some combination of the above.

But one thing I think is severely underdiscussed is that, at least in the Western countries I've lived in and/or have friends/family/loved ones living in, is it just me or have companies gotten lazy about giving their employees proper training??

I mean, years back, way before covid, even for minimum wage food service job, I'd get some sort of orientation and proper introduction and training to really make me feel prepared to answer customer's questions about the food and the company. There were people actually designated to train the newbies and answer their questions. So obviously I felt more competent and ready, and obviously I was better able to help the customers and do my job properly.

Now, "after" covid (which I know is still ongoing so for all intents and purposes let's define after covid as just meaning after the start of the pandemic and the shifts to society it's been causing) when I start a new job, whether it's retail or even an office job? I'm just thrown to the wolves. No proper orientation or training, nobody specifically designated to train me, just "yeah, you'll figure it out as you go, you can ask your co-workers if you have questions (ahaha but none of them are specifically designated to or being paid extra to train you so they'll get annoyed and snippy when you need help from them) good luck!"

And I ask around and a lot of people who have started new jobs after the start of the pandemic feel the same way. No proper training or guidance. Just lots and lots of mistakes resulting in lots and lots of pissed off customers.

I don't think this is a stretch to say this has contributed to worse relations overall between customers and employees. Customers are fed up that everywhere they go none of the staff know how to do their job (not saying this justifies being a jerk to customer service workers, ofc it doesn't!) and this results in employees everywhere being tense, stressed, and on edge. They don't know what they're doing, they can't get the proper help or guidance they need, and they're tired of being constantly snapped at by customers when they make a mistake and don't know what to do.

Nobody's happy. Something about the pandemic made companies more lazy about actually properly training their employees, and now everybody is stressed and unhappy about it, but the companies continue to get away with it.

#manners #good manners #courtesy #etiquette #politeness #submission

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janananarei · 2 months ago

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Satosugu x Reader

Genre: Angst no comfort, vampire au

Contains: SFW, major character death

≿━━༺❀༻━━≾ ༻✧༺ ≿━━༺❀༻━━≾

Imagine...

Hunter! Satoru, the strongest and most renowned hunter, was bleeding out after he was attacked and robbed by thieves. He ran a few more minutes before he collapsed on the ground. Bleeding out in the middle of the forest, with no human in sight, he thought that he would die here. So he closed his eyes and let his consciousness slip away.

Vampire! Suguru who finds him while he was on his way home with you. He was ready to just ignore Satoru's body and let him die, until you, who was also a vampire, saw Satoru's body and pleaded for Suguru to carry him to your home.

He was reluctant on allowing Satoru in your home, but gave up when you kept insisting. Finally carrying Satoru's body to bring home

Hunter! Satoru who was surprised to see himself waking up in a dark room, lying on a comfortable bed. He tried to stand up, but winced and fell back down due to his wounds.

He became alarmed when the door opened, and saw you standing there with a bucket of water and some bandages. You were surprised to see him awake, but you quickly walked closer to him and put the things down.

Satoru saw your sharp fangs and thought you were about to suck him dry, so he closed his eyes ready for the attack. But all he felt were soft hands unwrapping his bandages, and feeling cold water hit his skin. He watched as you wiped his wounds and wrapped it with a new set of bandages. Not knowing what to do, he just sat there until you were done.

You invited him to stay while his wounds were healing, promising him that you aren't going to try anything to hurt him. So he stayed there for a week until he had the strength to go home by himself. Suguru was relieved that he left.

Hunter! Satoru who visits both you and Suguru regularly, learning to trust you both ever since you took care of him. Although Suguru was still reluctant with his presence in his house, he wasn't as hostile anymore. He always brought you both something as a way to show thanks and peace.

He likes helping you with chores and cooking, but his favorite part is when you both have your break and you allow him to lay his head on your lap as you both just listen to the crackling fire place. Satoru likes to mess with Suguru a lot, and often goes with him whenever he hunts for animal blood.

Vampire! Suguru who hates humans and would rather drink the blood of animals than drink their disgusting blood. But who secretly has a growing soft spot for Satoru the more they both hangout. Whenever Satoru plans to visit, Suguru stocks the cabinet filled with sweet treats just for Satoru. He also makes sure to make three coffees, with one cup extra sweet.

You smile whenever you catch him doing this, knowing that Suguru is warming up to Satoru. And you hug him from the back as he continues to do whatever he was doing.

You three create a close bond together, slowly planting the seeds of love to grow in you. Unaware of the chaos that this may bring.

Since Satoru's regular disappearances, his fellow hunters became suspicious whenever he came back from a night of hunting vampires without being covered with blood, rather being covered with the scent of lavender and pinecones.

'The strongest hunter known to man not having caught a vampire for weeks?'

'Vampire attacks have been rising! We have to do something so that Gojo could focus on his job.'

'We should follow him and investigate where he goes off to every night.'

Hunter! Satoru who visits the next night, unaware that he was being followed. The hunters discover you both, two vampires, allowing a human into your home, and Satoru, a fellow hunter, who is not rejecting nor raising any weapon rather following you both inside. The hunters were left bewildered and quickly went back to the village to report their discovery to the town.

Satoru was thrown in jail the next day, being deemed as a traitor to society. Villagers mocking, shaming, and taunting him for his crimes, even shouting to burn him alive for such an unforgivable act.

To make things worse, Satoru overheard that the villagers were planning to raid your house tonight and kill you both. His heart dropped as he heard their plans, and started to look around for anything to get him out. Night time was soon to come, the moon peaking in the sky, Satoru tried everything and is getting desperate. Scratching the walls and banging the bars, this got the attention of the guard, becoming irritated. The guard comes in to shout at him but couldn't even utter a word before he was being chocked to death by Satoru. Once the body fell, the keys were took from the dead body, and Satoru quickly made his escape.

The town was already on their way to your house, pitch forks and torches ready to attack. Suguru smelled their scent from afar while he was hunting for food, and immediately began to run back to your house to get you. Once he reached the house, he slammed the door open and checked every room to find you. You hear frantic movements outside the bedroom so you open the door and find Suguru frantically looking around.

'Suguru? What's wrong?'

He turned his head to you and reached out to grab you, but before his hand can touch your skin, flames erupted inside the house quickly spreading around. You were caught off guard by the sudden fire, unaware of the collapsing ceiling. Suguru pushed you away before the hard pieces could fall on top of you. You both heard shouting and chanting outside, the town having already reached you and starting their attack.

'Burn them!'

'Kill those monsters!'

'Let them die for their sins!'

The fire was engulfing the house, making it harder to breathe. Suguru wraps his arms around you and covers you with his body as you both make it to the backdoor. With the house collapsing, you luckily made it to the door, getting ready to escape. But before you could make it far, Suguru was stabbed in the back with a pointed wooden stick. He screamed in pain, letting you go. You try to go to him but was caught in a net made out of iron, digging and burning your skin. The towns people continued to chant, with some beginning to shout in victory, as they continue to attack. Suguru tried to fight them off and get to you, but was overpowered by the number of people. Shouts of pain continue to echo in the forest, as blood was spilled on the vast grass, humans showing no mercy revealing their cold hearted nature.

Just when Satoru arrived to your home, it had already been too late. The house burned down to the ground as ash continues to linger in the air. He looks around, shouting for you and Suguru, when he finally spotted the bloody ground. No bodies in sight, just fallen strands of your hair and Suguru's torn clothes on the bloody grass.

Cries were heard that night, as a man was left to mourn for the death of his loves. Hating himself for being a human, and allowing his own kind to kill what was dear to him.

≿━━༺❀༻━━≾ ༻✧༺ ≿━━༺❀༻━━≾

a/n: I did not intend for this to be so long but I got carried away and got too much into detail. Requests are open, feel free to drop in anything!

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo angst #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto x reader #geto x you #geto angst #satosugu x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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elodieunderglass · 2 months ago

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I am absolutely wild and feral over HDM (legit like, daemons fit SO well. I'm watching dunmeshi wondering where Laios' dog went) and super curious if you do plan a sequel or other fics following this AU??

(In reference to the His Dark Materials / Dungeon Meshi fusion fic)

thank you so much for this question I love this question god!!!! Thank you thank you thank you

God sorry about HDM being delayed, I’m going through hell over it at the moment. It’s meant to end a little after the dragon, then a timeskip epilogue, with special coding so that you can read it two different ways, depending on whether you want spoilers for the manga/season 2. (My idea is that you’ll click a button to reveal/hide it, and the spoiler-free epilogue will be like found poetry.)

Firstly, if you or anyone else would like to take the concepts/characters in His Delicious Materials forward for themselves, you must do this. You don’t need my permission (but I’d love a link! so I can read, scream, reblog, comment, link to it, etc. there is also the “inspired by” setting on ao3 so we can link works directly to HDM, forming a collection for anyone who reads one and wants more.) I don’t own any of it! We are all just having fun! YOU can be the sequel you want to see in the world! If your heart feels a way forward, then follow your heart!! A daemon AU is really about revealing character and I find them really inspiring, like adding a whole engine to a story idea.

If I were to write something to follow up, I do know what the sequel WOULD be! It would be a sort of Discworld novel about the slow social revolution occurring in the half-foots as a chain reaction to Bee settling as a weasel, all occurring behind Chilchuck’s oblivious and unhelpful back. Pushed into a sort of bottleneck of sparrow- and mouse-souls, and marginalised to the very edges of society, half-foots are precarious and endangered. Chilchuck is mostly eating a ham sandwich unhelpfully in the foreground, and at the end of the story looks back and sees to his bewilderment that his people have found a way forward (they don’t have a Shire or a Chosen One, but they do have a goddamn functional worker’s union and their own collective dignity.) kind of Discworld-commentary-comedy, kind of a loving argument with Tolkien, kind of Sharpe hostile-and-awkward-protagonist-POV-doesn’t-know-and-wouldn’t-believe-that-his-men-genuinely-love-him, kind of about the experience of parenting, and kind of gently warmly political BUT FUNNY so it would be ok. but feel it would be too much of a stretch of people’s patience and the original materials’s intentions to call it fanfic. Too many OCs needed to carry the weight, too little reference to the other Dungeon Meshi characters, almost too little “payoff” for what would be a full 70k word work. So maybe to let the story breathe, it would be better worked up as original fiction?

(Plus, that is actually an actual novel: if people write their own novels and manga about orc coffeeshops and dnd parties, I could just write my own too: wait but how do you know if you should?)

Anyway, that is an entirely separate kettle of weasels and my own cross to bear! If your heart cries out for a sequel the best way to manifest it in the world is to write it!

If you feel that A Weasel Heart In Defiance feels like it would scratch that itch, here is a bit that is mildly relevant to Dungeon Meshi, which is Chilchuck and Bee starting to work away from home while the girls were still small. You’ll probably see what I mean from it.

About seven of the village children, including his own three, had a snake in a wooden bucket. They didn't look up.

The reappearance of a random guy who functioned mostly as a postal service and occasionally shouted at them about bedtime - in a way that could be easily blanked out if something more interesting was happening - simply could not be expected to compete for attention with a snake in a bucket.

Chilchuck could recognise this on some level, but as his own children ignored him, he felt very hot and angry, in a way that he had never wanted to feel about children, especially his.

Bee, also rigidly pissed off, growled, "Easy, boss."

This was where Chilchuck did the only thing so far that he was proud of, in this day. He did not start shouting, even though his temper was going something like What the fuck, kids, but worse. He stopped, took a minute, and remembered he'd had this whole thing where he'd wanted his kids to love him. He rubbed his nose, said, "Remind me," and his daemon reminded him: "What do we want them to actually do?"

And he said, "The bare minimum fucking acknowledgement would be nice."

And Bee said, "Have we explained that to them? Do they know?"

So Chilchuck and Bee, hot and tired and cross and still on the job apparently, sat down on the ground with the kids and looked in the bucket. The snake, poor bastard, looked very limp and tired. Chilchuck could relate.

After a while, Chilchuck said, "Girls?"

Or more accurately, something like, "Girls! Girls. Meifleurpatti-I mean Puck-PUCK. Listen up. Mei! Fleur, I'm talking - thanks Fleur - Puck. (Ryeland, stop the baby.) PUCK. Mei, Fleur, Puck - PUCK, eyes on me - thanks, Ryeland - PUCK. EYES," which condensed in parent-speak to a single roar of "Girls!"

When he had them more or less listening, he remembered to set his voice to the more singsong cadence one used for children, instead off the deeper version of his natural voice that he used for shouting at the top of his abilities at tall people; making the choice to be patient and gentle, or at least pretend to be someone who was; and in this manner he said reasonably, "Now, your dad's been away for a very long time and missed you all very much. What do you say? What do you say when your dad comes home?"

Six children stared at him blankly, and the baby toppled gently into the bucket. He fished it out, stuck it sideways under his arm, allowed the snake to escape in the confusion, acknowledged someone's grievously injured finger, stopped Fleur from pinching, took out his pocket handkerchief and wiped Puck's nose in essentially one continuous motion.

To be completely fair, now that he'd let go of the initial anger, he could see that the kids had absolutely no idea what he'd wanted of them. Kids had practically no social instincts at the best of times. Chilchuck coming home was remarkable, sure, but beyond their influence; how were they supposed to react? What do you say to a comet? What do you say to a hailstorm? What do you say when daddy comes home?

He repeated the question, as the children had universally drawn blanks and devolved into staring vacantly.

"Good morning, Daddy!" A child chirped helpfully, setting off the rest in an automatic drone of "good morning, Daddy," in the strangely universal dreary tone of all children saying that.

"So close, Fernwise! Is it morning? What else do we think?"

Bee, fighting for order among the kit-daemons, was simultaneously washing Fleurtom's daemon, Pantoufle's, face; receiving a long rambling report of a grievance from three incoherent witnesses; and minding the baby's chick-daemon; up to her ears in parenting. She said, around a mouthful of Pan, "Speed it up, boss, you're losing them."

"Where are your spots, Daddy?" Pan asked him. He was in the form of a young ferret and scrabbled against his mother's grip on his scruff.

"My what?"

"Your freckles," Bee said grimly, and seeing he'd been temporarily disarmed - and being a valiant beast in her way - charged in to her human's defense, "Is that nice, Pan? We don't want to make people feel bad about their looks, do we?"

"Yes we do," said Fleur.

"Fleur! We've just - we haven't seen much of the sun, that's all," said Bee, taking charge, the best and most loyal soul a man could have. "They'll come back, and they're not spots."

"Mei has spots."

"Freckles."

"Grimbob has spots."

"Yes, and you shouldn't notice," Bee said. "Think of Grimbob's feelings."

"I do, I think he feels spotty."

"I'm thirsty," Puck said flatly.

"Stick to the point, kids," Chilchuck said, recovering from the fact that his usual face was apparently indistinguishable to children from Grimbob's, who had been taking puberty hard. This was surprisingly difficult to do.

Ryeland, a mildly bright spark who was older than the Chils girls, connected two dots and suddenly roared "WELCOME HOME DADDY," so six children all repeated that automatically, and Fleur added sunnily, "I missed you Daddy!"

And just as a very small piece of Chilchuck's heart was finally allowed to melt, she added, equally sunnily, "Mei didn't."

"I did a little," Meijack said vaguely.

"That's great kids, well done, we got there in the end," Chilchuck said. "Remember it for next time, okay? It makes Daddy feel better about his stupid life. Now, next time, let's remember that it's traditional to do a hug."

He realised his mistake instantly, as six children and their daemons all bore him - and the baby he'd forgotten he was holding - to the ground.

___________

#a weasel heart raised in defiance #his delicious materials #daemon AUs #like you see it right that’s not dungeon meshi but it IS definitely a thing that happens raising kids

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throughthewaves-if · 4 months ago

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Demo TBA // Ask Boundaries

Should be noted that this is a side IF. Which means it’s something I work on whenever I’m bored of Aquarii or am in need of something a little more chill and wholesome. Main IF is @aquarii-if.

Sometimes, it feels like your life is falling apart.

Losing one family member is hard enough, but losing all of them at the same time is almost unheard of. All it took was one malfunction on an airplane, and suddenly your world ended.

Being fresh out of college with no direction, you weren’t sure what to do with the heap of inheritance money you got from their death. But upon seeing the ads for beach houses in Blue Mist, an island that finished emerging a few years ago and just finished some of its construction, you decided ‘why not’?

Now it’s time to wash your worries away in the pristine waters of Blue Mist. Enjoy taste testing the unique cuisines using the islands native ingredients, run along the boardwalk and find things to decorate your new house with, learn about this new island that brings all kinds of unprecedented adventures… Oh, and meet your new neighbors that happen to be a little more wet than usual. Don’t worry, it’s completely normal.

Choose your pronouns, sexuality, and appearance.

Swim with some mermaids, and learn about the large city beneath the waves.

Develop your relationship with your late family and how you mourn their loss. Seek comfort and stability in this quaint little island.

Choose between four unique gender-selectable RO's, some mermaid, some human, and some in-between. (Very high chance of more RO's being added.)

Explore the new island, and use its secrets to protect you and your newfound aquatic friends.

Simon/Sophia, Your Friendly Neighbor- S is considerate, welcoming, and an overall delight to be around. They're very supportive and you can always count on them to be a shoulder to cry on during your moments of grief. With how much they seem to care about living things, you're certain they'll be a great asset to the fight for the mermaids.

Idris/Iris, The Curious Mermaid- I scared you on your first encounter with them, but over time, you've found them to be quite sweet, if not a little naive. Mischievous and curious, I wants to know everything there is to know about humans, and they dream of a day humans and mermaids can live at peace with one another. They also seem happy to teach you about mermaid culture, and you enjoy trading knowledge with them.

Malachi/Madeline, The Hostile Mermaid- Though your encounter was a mistake on your part, M has never been one to hide their hatred for you and your kind. When they may not want humans dead as humans want mermaids dead, M does wish humans would stay out of the ocean, since mermaids stay off of the land, it's only fair humans respect their property as well. M has no interest in trying to solve the conflict between the species and would prefer everything to stay just as it is. Maybe you can convince them to open their eyes to peace between mermaids and humans?

Altair/Astrid, The Prince/Princess- While I loves humans and M hates them, A simply expresses no interest for your kind. They're polite and welcoming to you when you visit their kingdom, but outside of that, they're very clear about the fact that humans have no place in their kingdom, just as mermaids have no place in human society. All A wishes to do is stop the humans from harming the mermaids, but after that, they plan to make Blue Mist return to it's uninhabitable state and close off the mermaid kingdom from all outside contact. The world between humans and mermaids was once entirely closed off, and so it shall return.

RO's Physical Descriptions

#interactive fiction #interact-if #interactive game #if wip #if recs #twine game #twine if #through the waves

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soobadnoonecanstopher · 2 months ago

Text

Rat Bastard - Part 7

Pairing: You x Kyungsoo

Rating: M (Mature)

Word Count: 8900

Warnings: There were too many beds, Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Idiots to Lovers

A/N: I wrote this in less than a day and none of it followed any of the plans I had for this story. This new laptop makes it too easy to write and it might end up adding extra chapters to this fic. Sorry and you’re welcome.

Tag: @ilovemyapopbaby

Links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

The silence that sat down atop both of your heads after that door closed tight, leaving you and him completely alone together for the first time in literally forever was about as loud as anything you’d ever experienced.

Kyungsoo stood just inside of the drab entryway and you had been lingering closer to the hallway that would take you further into the shelter. You watched his face for a while, trying to gauge the mood he would be in to find himself trapped in here with you for at least one night, maybe two if things got wild at the hospital and Mr. Chen wasn’t able to get away as he promised.

How would he feel about this? The relationship and you used that word strictly for lack of any other word to describe the you and the him, had been strained from the start, downright hostile at times, and only very recently kind of sort of settled into this civil agreement in which you did not antagonize him and he did not antagonize you -- much.

It wasn’t a friendly relationship for he himself had told you quite brutally last night that he had no interest in being your friend, but lately, with the interactions that had grown just a little bit softer, the chat you’d had with him out on the patio as he made you ramen and teased you about your sexual optimism, the silly time passing game of stating a personal preference between two completely inconsequential things and you found, much to your surprise that you and he shared more than a few minor tastes in common; the fright you had been triggered into with the spiders in the movie and the genuine comfort you felt from him; it felt almost as if something somewhere might be changing. Were you, just as you had been with the threat from the fake spiders, simply imagining the entire thing?

“Well, shit,” Kyungsoo whispered mostly to himself after the heavy door slammed shut and you looked up into his face to catch the smallest furrow of his brows and the frown of his lips.

Was this a worst case scenario for him? Trapped alone with the girl he never wanted to be trapped with? Having gone out of his way all those months ago to ditch her on that stupid blind date and she just had to be pathetic enough to pick a fight with him about it, and then about anything and everything she could find to fight about and just when he thought he’d escaped that nightmare of a person she shows up here and not only is she forced upon him by the staff here but now he’s somehow charged with feeding her and entertaining her? You could see it in his face. He looked disappointed as evidenced by the furrow and the frown.

You pulled your arms up and crossed them over your chest, pulling your eyes down and away from that disappointed look you saw in his eyes and you made a deal with yourself then and there; you would not be a burden. You would keep as good a distance as this situation allowed and behave yourself as far as your temper or your tangled feelings for the man were concerned. You wouldn't let it show just how far down this pathetic rabbit hole you’d fallen of uninvited attraction and unrequited love. You’d treat him with disinterest, maybe casual civility that a shop worker would get, or that old man at the grocery store who made a friendly joke about the price of eggs and you provided the required perfunctory laugh at exactly the right pitch and tone to be deemed socially acceptable. That was what you would do, you would perform as expected by society in such a situation.

It wasn’t his fault that you’d allowed this little crush to fester deep inside your stomach; and for a man who didn’t even desire friendship from you. It wasn’t the first time you’d let your heart run away with your mind. It didn’t have to happen with this man.

You felt a slight burning in your stomach, just below your breastplate and you placed a palm over the space where you felt the pain. You knew enough about your body to recognize that you were just feeling the aftereffects from the panic from earlier. It always came as an upset stomach that burned and ached usually for hours after your heightened emotions had run their course.

“What is it?” You hadn’t expected his attention but he must have seen your hand sink down hard just over the space at the top of your stomach. He must have noticed the look of discomfort on your face that you quickly blanked away with the drop of your hand.

“Nothing,” you said flatly dropping the subject entirely before he had a chance to probe or suspect more of you and you lifted a hand to half shrug into the air, “umm… did you want to finish the movie or … maybe play another game?”

His lips parted and he closed them up, his eyes briefly leaving your face and glancing behind you into the dark hallway from where you both had come.

When he didn’t answer you right away you inhaled to speak again, before you sounded like his own liability that he had to deal with, “you don’t have to do either, if you don’t want to. I don’t need you to entertain me or anything, I can figure something out for myself if you just want to be alone.”

You’d already spun on your heels, determined with your newfound resolve to be exactly as aloof and unaffected by anything he said or did as required by society to keep the peace; taking the first few steps away from him and turning back toward the dim light from the open kitchen door that you could barely make out as a direction in which you should travel.

“We could,” the first sounds of his voice stopped your steps and you turned your face in his direction, not committing to turning around the whole way, “play something, if you want.”

“Not Monopoly again, I swear to God,” you said with a finger lifted into the air and you heard the soft chuckle that came from behind you.

“Awww, my little Princess didn’t like the bitter taste of defeat?” You could hear the joking tone in his voice and weirdly that strong feeling of uncertainty you’d felt only moments earlier seemed to change with the teasing tone he used with you. Changed into what? You wouldn’t say, but it was only a slightly more comfortable feeling. There was a burning sensation just under the skin below your cheekbones and you thanked whatever god was responsible for putting you in this darkened hallway during this moment for the cover that would keep the blush from being noticed by him. You were imagining the softness you heard in that nickname. This man did not hold any affection for you.

Inside the kitchen you returned to the familiar set up that you had left, only it felt wildly different. Gone was the soft comfy feeling of the mattresses on the floor, the pillows set up at your back and the fluffy down winner’s blanket sat in a tangled clump on the floor beside the bed that you both had occupied. The briefest of thoughts flittered by -- would you be able to smell him in it now? That clean, crisp fragrance he seemed to carry with him, would those microscopic molecules be wound into the spaces in between your one thousand threads ready to drift inside of your nose, bringing you back to the moment below the blanket when his fingers intertwined between your own and he held your hand, keeping you grounded and still connected to this world. The comfort he had given you then, but why? To keep you from embarrassing yourself or maybe him? You couldn't find the reasoning for it anywhere inside of you, but this wouldn't be the first time that man did something you couldn't understand.

The burning was back. You had an absentminded hand running over the spot on your belly and your feet carried you to the spot beside the fridge where the water bottles sat. You ‘d seen an electric kettle there and you busied yourself grabbing a mug and heating the water. Behind you, Kyungsoo was looking through the games again, trying to find something that he could no doubt destroy you with again. Your heart wasn’t in the fight this time, you felt too distracted.

The water was heated and you poured some into a cup, finding that plain hot water always soothed your stomach the best and you returned to his side to peer over his shoulder holding your mug.

He glanced over at you and down at the mug, making no comment about either, and then he held up a game. It was your game. It was the first game, a word game you’d picked to play with a nostalgic and hopeful glint in your eye.

“We can play this one, if you want,” he said with a bit of a whisper as if you two weren’t the only ones in this entire building, “it’s still fun even with only two people.”

You nodded and took a seat near him but not close enough so he could cheat and look at your letters and he quietly set up the game, not once looking directly at your face for too long apart from the smallest of brushes with his eyes into yours as he handed you bits and pieces for the game.

You settled into your seat and took a good long look at the letters you had to pick from, picking a few up and shuffling them to see if you could come up with something good and after a few moments you settled on something that was actually pretty decent, especially for the first round. The realization pulled a small smile to your face and you grabbed the letters to place them on the board. He’d already told you that you could go first and as you began placing your tiles on the board you looked up to find that he was watching you, of course he was; you were playing the first word. This word would determine what he could or couldn’t play from his letters.

You played your word and did the math, giving yourself a nice start with 20 points and you wrote down the number on the pad of paper and looking up at him expectantly. You had expected him to be paying attention to the word, to be impressed by your intelligence. You had managed to spell that word on your very first go. You had expected him to feel thoroughly challenged by the force he had to reckon with.

He sat there though, his eyes watching you but something about his mind seemed disconnected from the game. Your smile at your own move slipped just a little bit, falling flat because he hadn’t even looked at the word you played yet. He just sat there with his shoulders relaxed, his unshuffled letters sitting there in front of him, he didn't even have his fingers on them, rearranging and thinking as you would have expected. He just sat there -- it was odd. You lifted your chin and wiggled your head, lifting your eyebrows and you heard an inhale as he took a deep breath and exhaled as he slowly pushed the air through his lips and when he was empty his eyes closed up. He gave his head a little shake back and forth and finally, finally his eyes left your face.

Finally he was looking down.

“Oh you played that, hmm,” you heard him mumble and he was back. All at once, his fingers were touching lightly over his letters, picking some up, moving them, shoving some aside, actually thinking about the game in front of him instead of whatever in the world he had been so distracted by.

You lifted your mug and took a sip, feeling the warmth of the hot water warm the inside of your stomach a little bit. The pain was still there even after another sip and you looked down at the mix of letters you had thinking of what word you might play next. You adjusted your posture some, lifting a hand to rub just below your breastplate again, wishing that knot would just go down and be done so you could win this game already.

Kyungsoo had played his word, counted out his points, and wrote a sad little 16 under his name. You were already winning. The self-satisfied smile was back, it had replaced the wince on your face when you realized you already had your next word. You played it quickly and tallied up your numbers. 24 -- He really didn’t stand a chance.

You heard the scrape of chair legs and the sound pulled your attention up to the man who was standing up and walking away from you toward the kitchen cabinets at the back wall.

“It’s your turn, Kyungsoo,” you called toward his retreating back.

“I know, I’m just getting something real quick,” he called without looking back at you and you heard him inside the fridge, heard him pulling something out and he was slicing something with a knife on a board. The kettle was going again and you heard a metal spoon hitting porcelain as he stirred something into a cup.

He was back quickly with two mugs in his hand and when he returned to your side he’d place one of the mugs in front of you.

The color of the water inside the cup was a pale yellow and you saw a single disc of sliced ginger floating on the surface. You could see the string and tab from a tea bag in his mug.

“Honey and ginger,” he said as he busied himself with playing a word on the board game, “for your stomach,” he added as if you’d made an announcement at the start of your game that your stomach was hurting and he was just responding to that.

You hadn’t said a single thing to him about it. In fact, you had thought you were doing a pretty good job hiding it from him. You hadn’t let him see you frown or groan or cry out in pain once. The worst you did was lightly massage the space where it hurt the most.

You lifted his offering to your lips and took a sip expecting it to be too hot for you to drink comfortably and finding the temperature rather mild actually. You took another bigger sip and felt the soothing warmth slip into you. It was sweet with the honey he added and slightly spicy from the fresh ginger he’d added. It was delicious. You’d never tried this for your stomach aches before but it seemed to actually be helping. You took another sip and swallowed, finding that the burning lessened with each sip you took.

Kyungsoo silently played a word and you watched his mouth moving as he added up his points and wrote down his score of 20.

You smiled widely. He had just played the letter you needed to play your next word and with the orientation of the word you would be able to get the bonus points. You were already laying your letters out on the board and counting out your points before he’d even had a chance to replace the letters he’d used on the last word.

“Oh come on, what? You gotta give me a chance to catch you,” he groaned in annoyance that didn’t really seem to sink too deep into him for him to really mean it. You could still see the smile on the edges of his mouth and in his eyes. You did a little victory wiggle in your seat, wrote down 50 points under your name, and even stuck your tongue out at him with a giggle. His eyes slipped down your face and his lips had been pulled into a smile, despite the fact that he was losing this game miserably.

He pulled his head back a little bit and looked up into the air above his head. A quick glance at his pieces told you he still needed to replace letters and so you held up the bag with the open end toward him. He was still sulking about the heavy blow and you had to reach out to touch your fingertips over the back of his warm hand to get his attention. You gave the bag a little shake and you had his eyes in yours again as he reached into the bag, pulling out tiles and groaning at the letters the universe had decided to give him.

“Ugh,” he was groaning with each new letter he pulled out. His eyes darted over the game board and occasionally slipped back up into yours, probably because you had been watching him for signs that he had something good to play. It didn’t seem like he did.

“Blegh,” he made a disgusted sound, complaining again. “What am I going to do? What do I do, what do I do?” he repeated to himself as he pondered his brand new fate as a loser of this game.

In his hand, he held only two tiles and he hovered lightly over a space on the board. You giggled when he set them down. It was the saddest word you’d seen in a while.

“You’re going to have to do better than that if you want to beat me, Kyungsoo,” you sing-songed playfully watching him spell out the word ‘SEE’ for only 5 points.

His hand moved and he spun his letters around, showing you very quickly the hand he had. You saw a slew of vowels, mostly the letter E and everyone’s least favorite burden a single solitary X.

You were openly laughing at him now. His cheeks were pink and he was reaching into the bag to select his replacement letters and when he pulled them out he tossed them in disgust. They both landed flat on the table, face up with a clatter. He had thrown them there. You looked down to see two more Es and the sight threw you back into a noisy fit of laughter that seemed to be catching. You could hear him giggling beside you and he gripped the Es in his fingertips and tried to put them back into the bag. You snatched it up quickly and held the bag of letters out of his reach so he couldn't cheat and put them back in.

“No no,” you gasped through the giggles, “Think of words with lots of Es like meet, umm, teeth, f-feet,” you said through a strained voice and you were laughing again at the look he shot you at the mention of the words that brought up a very recent sore memory for him.

“Teeth and feet?” He said with his eyes wide, “You really brought that up again?” He exhaled through his teeth, his lips pulled wide in frustration. He was leaning now, reaching desperately past your game pieces to where you still kept the bag of letters out of his reach to keep him from cheating, even though you were pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to catch up with you even if he replaced all of his letters now. He had scooted his chair closer to you and you reached for his desperate hand, gripping around his fingers and pulling his hand down into your lap, holding it tightly there and leaning into him to help you gain some leverage against him. He was quite strong when he wanted to be but he seemed to be letting you hold him back like this. He definitely wasn’t putting his all into this struggle against you. Something was off with him. Kyungsoo had never held back on that chance to be terrible with you before.

Instead, he had moved in too close to you and after the small playful struggle, you felt the warmth of him all over you. You had been giggling as he reached out with his other hand, reaching again for the bag of letters you held out of his reach and you felt the tips of his fingers wrap around your wrist and he pulled your arm down. It was a bit of a stalemate and you heard the soft laughter from him settle and go curiously still, when you opened your eyes you found his face in front of yours. You had his hand inside of yours down on your lap right over your thigh and he held your other hand with his fingers wrapped tightly around your wrist. You hadn’t expected this level of closeness from him, the shock you felt radiating through your chest had taken the laughter out of your voice and left you stunned in a frozen silence instead.

You suddenly felt hyper-aware of your own body. He was so close to you, that you wondered if he was able to hear how noisily your heart was pounding inside of your chest, or if he could hear the stuttered way your breathing moved in and out of your lungs.

God, he was beautiful up close. His skin was clear and he had a scattering of tiny moles all over. The small freckle in his upper lip seemed to have a presence all of its own and you struggled to look away from him. Your eyes roamed over the length of his face. He had long since stopped laughing and he had even stopped reaching for the bag, stopped struggling against your hands and he was watching you with slow blinking wandering eyes over your face that seemed to settle again heavy and deep inside of your eyes.

You exhaled a breath you had been holding through your parted mouth and his eyes slipped down to look at your mouth when you moved. This was something. Something was happening here. Something that shouldn’t exist with the intense animosity he’s always felt for you. Something between you and something between him. You could feel it in the way your skin flushed, the blood in your body seemed to seek refuge in some place that wasn’t in your veins. You found it difficult to breathe with him so close and those eyes of his didn’t let up, they didn’t let you go, you felt so much more trapped here in his eyes than ever before. Your ears picked up on the smallest grunt of effort from somewhere in the back of his throat, then the smallest inhale of breath lifted his lungs, and finally, finally, he closed his eyes.

“I think I’ve lost this game,” he whispered through closed eyes with a sudden tight clench of his jaw.

He was leaning. He was moving. You watched the sway of his balance and he moved closer to you, impossibly closer and the fingers he’d wrapped around your wrist released their hold, that hand was moving. You felt the first tiny touches of his fingertips as he moved his hand to touch your face lightly and achingly slowly along your jawline. You felt as if you could burst into flames at any second and judging by the heavy puffs of air that left his lungs, something similar was happening to him too.

He leaned into you, close enough for a kiss but something stopped him. You felt and saw the lean though. He pulled back half a centimeter and it felt like he was at war with himself.

You watched his face as he did it. His eyes, he kept them closed up as tightly as he could and the hard clench of his jaw did not let up.

He was touching you though. His hand had moved and his thumb brushed lightly over your bottom lip and his fingertips dug in behind your ear. His other hand, the one that you held in your lap had moved too and you felt a squeeze from his fingers as he clenched tightly around your hand.

Everything about him was tense. His jaw, his hands, his eyes squeezed shut tightly.

This man was very purposefully attempting to regain control of himself and resist whatever it was he was feeling by being this close to you, by you touching him, and by him touching you. Your own self-control felt thready. How easily you could snap in two. How flimsy your resolve had grown around him.

You’d long since dropped the bag of letters. You felt the need for the warmth of his soft skin under your fingertips. So you reached for his face, delighting in wonder at the smoothness your fingertips traveled over, even with the hard clench of his jaw he felt so warm and inviting and he was still so very close to you. He smelled so good, it was overwhelming. You wanted him.

He was so very close; close enough for you to feel every quick burst of air that came from his nose against your lips, close enough for you to so easily lean your face into his and press your lips up against the softness of his mouth.

So you did it, you did it -- you leaned into him and you kissed him on the lips, relishing in the softness you felt when his lips gave into yours so, so easily, it seemed to come like second nature when you had actually worked up the nerve to do it.

There were almost imperceivable changes in him when you did it; when you kissed him. The hard clench in his jaw let up with the soft grunt of surprise that came from the back of his throat and in his hands; the loosening of the tight grip he held you with on your face as he simply let go of you entirely for the first few seconds of this kiss from you.

The next change was less subtle, you felt the careful way he caved to your lips. The tilt of his head paired with the parting of his jaw and he leaned into you further, pulling your soft bottom lip into his mouth then pulling you again, your upper lip. When he moved again you felt the tip of his wet tongue guide along your teeth and reach for yours with that same suction he had pulled against you which you gave to him, giving him what he wanted, feeling very much out of control now with greedy the way he sucked on your tongue. The kiss was too much in an instant. The undeniable attraction you felt for this man had taken every bit of rational thought and tossed it out the window, carrying them all away with the wind outside.

His mouth and teeth and tongue nipped inside of your mouth, pulling at your lips and he was moving, peppering tiny kisses, bites, and nibbles along your jawline as he moved lower to taste the skin below your ear.

You reached for him again, reaching a hand forward for his waist and lower, you’d lost your mind when you touched near his belt, slipping the tips of your fingertips in between the denim fabric and feeling along the elastic waistband of his underwear. Feeling the very clear bump of his arousal and the warmth of his skin there.

His hand flew up to stop you and you heard the soft groan that came from his chest against his will. You could feel your labored breathing taking your chest and heaving it up and you shook your head back and forth at the nerve he had to stop you. You wanted him, you wanted the sex. You were beginning to feel desperate for him.

Kyungsoo leaned his forehead against yours and his hands now had a strong ironclad grip on your wandering hands. You felt the very slight movement of his face back and forth.

No.

He was telling you no.

You had to take a genuine moment to absorb it. He was telling you no. You closed your eyes and inhaled a deep breath and you inhaled the no, the refusal, the rejection took its time coming at you slowly in a big old sluggish wave and your breathing was beginning to calm down now.

“Kyungsoo?” You called out lightly, feeling just a bit upset and even more confused as to why he would have kissed you back so intensely if he didn’t want this.

“I,” he opened his mouth and pulled his head back, “I don’t—” his words were broken, staggered, and fractured, “I couldn’t live with myself.”

“You don’t want me like that.” It wasn’t a question. You weren’t asking him a damn thing. It was a stark realization that you had simply misread his actions as affection.

“I don’t mean that,” he began, his voice clearer and with slightly more urgency than the staggered speech from earlier, he inhaled and swallowed, licking his lips as his eyes searched over your face.

“I don’t do that lightly,” he exhaled and furrowed his brows, narrowing his eyes and looking into your face again, “I’ve never slept with someone outside of a relationship. I don’t do it. This can’t happen. We aren’t going to have sex.”

He had released his tight grip on your hands now that his reasoning was out and you sat there feeling just a little bit foolish for having jumped so quickly straight to sex. You felt the embarrassment hit you hard and you closed your eyes through it and shook your head, straightening your back and removing your hands from within his fingers and pulling them back toward you as you carefully busied yourself with straightening your shirt back out. This felt awful. You reached down for the mug with the now cold ginger honey water and you downed the remains quickly, hoping that some of that sweet honey might coat your insides and soothe your fractured ego while it was at it.

You felt the softness of his hand land over yours when you put the mug back down and you looked down at it, his hand covering over yours. You could feel it then, he was asking you to look at him. You had been embarrassed by the rejection and had been busying yourself with literally anything that wasn’t him. He’d given you time to process it and to get yourself under control before calling your attention again with the softest and most gentle pull of just the warmth of his hand on yours. You signed deeply, willing all of that oxygen to fill your lungs and power your brain well, and after what felt like several inescapable seconds passed you looked up into his face.

He was watching you, no words on his lips and a slow and steady blinking of his eyes.

You swallowed before you spoke, “I get it,” you said plainly, biting down on your lip once before you continued, “I understand. You don't sleep around. I sleep around. You and I aren’t the same.”

His lips parted and his eyes rolled over his face once before they sank back down heavy inside of yours. He inhaled a breath, clearly ready to counter your words. You knew you were misinterpreting his meaning. It wasn't even as if he’d called you a slut or anything, but goddammit that recent discovery of his. Him having found your 20-pack of condoms in your bag; you couldn't help but compare them to the single 5-pack he brought which he probably never even had any intention of using in the first place when you had every intention of using some of those condoms on this retreat. You would be goddamned if you didn’t get laid at least once on this trip. It had been so long for you, that you needed something from someone that made you feel desired and attractive to another human being.

“You know,” he was speaking, his eyes had drifted closed and he was having trouble getting the words out again. Maybe he was about to tell you he was on his way to pray for your forgiveness for being such a slut.

“You already know how I feel about you,” he whispered and pulled his eyes open.

You looked at his face for a moment before your eyes wandered over the space above his head; giving the smallest head shake as a reply. Not really. He hated you for one minute. He laughed at you and teased you another minute. He made you ramen and tasty honey tea to soothe your upset stomach and beat you mercilessly at Monopoly but his cold hard facade fell apart when you teased him back. He was a mystery to you, whenever you thought you had figured something out about him, he would pull out the rug from under you and swear that no matter how desperate you were for it he would specifically not ever sleep with you. You felt that same familiar pain in your stomach flare up again. You hissed through it and inhaled a small gasp, doing your best to keep your reaction under wraps.

His eyes narrowed and he dropped his chin, “you must know,” he said again, “you already know.”

You must have flinched somewhere in your face. Those knowing eyes of his caught it and his head ticked as his eyes moved over you again.

“How could I know anything?” You were beginning to feel like you should go lie down. You even felt a tiny bit dizzy the more you stayed here just withstanding this. Maybe a warm shower would help.

“Sara told you. You know everything.” he threw his head back and looked up at the ceiling above his head. He had a sort of exasperated expression on his face now and you tried to focus on this conversation but you’d already been through enough of it.

What had Sara told you? She had been so excited about every little interaction between the two of you that her words had been too exaggerated and overly dramatic to be able to trust what she said. Your mind flew through her words to you about him. About him saying how pretty you were. So what if you were pretty. The man hated you. He hated you. Her words, were a distant memory now even though it had only been a couple of hours since she said them.

‘The way he looks at you -- If I didn't know that he was desperately in love with you, I’d think he was trying to set you on fire with his eyes -- he was desperately in love with you -- he is desperately in love with you.’

It was impossible. Sara was wrong. This man did not love you. He couldn’t love someone like you.

Doh Kyungsoo had just rejected you for the third time now. The first when he stood you up on the date, leaving you to stew in the rejection, publicly calling you out amongst your best friends about it, basically ridiculing you again and again for your stupidity; how dare you really think someone like him could ever actually be interested in someone like you. The second rejection was shallower, the way he treated you when he found out you were here with him. You had the audacity to show up here and play pretend like you belonged here beside him; going so far as to reject even your offer of friendship, the lowest form of acquaintance and even that he didn't want. And now, reminding you of just how little he thought of you.

He didn’t sleep with people he wasn’t in a relationship with. You’d offered yourself so easily to the man, practically begged for it but again, you received another rejection.

Wasn't there a point in which you should give up on this?

“I don't know anything, Kyungsoo. I don't even know you, remember? We never really even met each other.” You said it with such finality that his lips closed up and he pulled his head back. He seemed taken aback by the force with which you said those words to him. You stood up, done with this. There was only so much you could take. That surprised look on his face from earlier had flattened out and he was staring ahead of himself, not looking up at you.

You stood there looking down at him for much longer than your pride should have allowed. Watching him staring ahead of himself with his silent lips and his bright red ears, his chest heaving up and down as if all of the emotions bubbling just below the surface of him could ever presume to break through that thick outer shell of a man who keeps everything inside when he should have just let it out. Goddammit Kyungsoo. But he wouldn’t move. He wouldn’t explain and he sure as hell wasn’t about to try any more than absolutely necessary with you. You’d been the one to put yourself out there again and again for this man. You felt let down.

“I’m going to shower and lie down for a while.”

You took the first steps to leave, to walk past him and you’d made it three whole steps toward the door when you felt the warmth and strength of his hand wrapped tightly around your wrist, pulling you back. He pulled you back roughly. You had been moving forward with such a momentum that the break in your stride caused you to stumble backward and you yelped out in surprise finding yourself pulled into him, pulled to where he still sat uselessly in that chair and the rough yank on your wrist sent you moving until you collided with a resisting barrier.

You stumbled on your feet and you bounced against him and the second you collided with him you felt the strength of his arms wrapping tightly around your waist. You felt the push of his firm chest hit against your thighs and in your belly you felt the point of his nose as he buried his entire face within your shirt, just below your ribs deep, within the softness of your belly. It tickled uncomfortably but you felt too stunned to do anything. You looked down in shock, seeing only the top of his head, his soft black hair fell into the fabric of your shirt and from his mouth somewhere you heard the softest moan that reverberated through your body.

For lack of anywhere else to put them you rested your hands on his shoulders and you heard and felt him make another sound, a rough growl from his chest sounded out into your skin, buzzing into the skin of your stomach and his hands around your waist tightened to uncomfortable levels. He inhaled a deep breath from somewhere in the center of you and you found some semblance of some words to say.

“Kyungsoo, what,” you began but his hot exhale warmed you on the exit and sent goosebumps cascading down your spine, taking whatever words you thought you could speak. After several breaths he lifted his face, propping his chin right against your skin to look up into your stunned and confused face.

“What are you doing?” you managed. You felt too blindsided for more.

“Get to know me then,” he whispered up into the air and you wiggled against the tightness you felt in his arms matching the crazed look you saw in his eyes. He did not loosen them any, “get to know me, until you understand how I feel about you.”

This didn’t feel real. It was impossible that this was happening. Was he serious?

Your mind was spinning. You couldn’t reconcile the two versions of Doh Kyungsoo you were witnessing. The desperate way he clung to you told you one thing and yet, so much bad had already happened to tell you the complete opposite. This version clearly hadn't listened to a damn thing the other one had just told you. This one didn’t know about the no sex before commitment rule, the one that had his chance and squandered it, humiliating you in the process. But as tightly as you were wound here within his arms; you could feel your body responding to him all over again. You’d already been too affected by him before.

His eyes were looking up at you and you could just barely make out the tiny pout on his lips that was hiding within the fabric.

Maybe he was drunk. Maybe that mug he had been sipping from had been full of whiskey instead of tea and this man was off his head right now.

“What are you talking about?”

He was moving with the question you hung into the air above his head. You could feel the slow way he moved his face, pressing himself against the softness of your belly again, breathing you in slowly and deeply as if every bit of sanity had simply left his body and this was a madman whose only purpose was to drive you as crazy as he was.

“You know for someone who doesn’t want to fuck me, you are doing a terrible job of letting me leave this room.”

Your own bluntness surprised you but you’d expected him to wake the hell up and release you so you could go take care of this problem he’d caused.

“I never said I don’t want to fuck you.” He whispered it with his face hidden deep within the skin of your belly but the words echoed inside of you, hitting you hard with their heavy impact.

The man was a menace. He’d just turned you down only to do this to you? You felt so turned on you almost couldn’t keep upright.

You braced both of your hands on his shoulders and you pushed against him hard, pushing your hips backward too until he got the message and loosened his hold around you. The release allowed you to take a step back. His hands still lingered around you and you even felt one of his hot palms lying right over your ass, having slipped down from your waist he didn’t seem to be in too big of a hurry to take his wandering hands off of you.

“Sorry, sorry,” his immediate apology told you that he knew exactly what sins he had committed against you, “I’m not in my right mind.”

You reached behind you and grabbed his hand off of your ass and brought it back around, dropping it down on his own lap. It landed with a flop in his lap and his eyes pulled deservedly down as he took on a much more sheepish expression in his face. You couldn’t tell if it was genuine.

“You say one thing and do another, Doh Kyungsoo.”

You felt ready to snap. “You say we won’t have sex, and that’s fine. I’m fine with that,” you said through wild eyes and even though you managed to get the words out, it felt like a lie. You weren’t fine with that. This hot piece of ass needed to figure himself out and in a hurry because you weren’t sure how much more of his torture you could take.

“You seem fine with it,” you heard him mumble under his breath and your eyes widened as you lifted your eyebrows and looked at him. He lifted a hand and waved it lightly, “Sorry, continue.”

“I was fine with it until you,” you lifted your arms and wrapped them around your body, doing a speed-run pantomime of him grabbing you around the waist, hugging you tightly and you even ran your fingers over the entire length of his face lightly, jumping back in pure frustration, “did all that to me, Kyungsoo. What the fuck?”

The man who sat in front of you with his forearms crossed strategically over his lap ‘just so’ dared to smile at you. It was a tiny smile but you lifted a finger and pointed right at his face with a frustrated gasp. Again his smile, impossibly, widened.

“I am going to go take a shower. And I am going to lie down.” These words came out in a low growl. “I better not see you standing at that bathroom doorway.”

You’d spun on your heels for the second time to walk away from this man and you nearly screamed when you felt his hand reach for you again. This time he was standing up and you lifted your own hand in an 'I swear to god, give me a reason’ pose, enjoying how quickly he flinched away from you.

“Wait, wait” he quickly spoke, not wanting to get smacked. You decided then and there that you weren’t above doing it. The memory of last night's tit punch was still fresh in your mind and you were feeling almost crazy enough to do it.

“Just wait, goddammit,” he had the nerve to sound annoyed. He actually reached up and grabbed your raised hand and carefully brought it back down. “Come back later. Later tonight, give me like two hours maybe.”

“What happens in two hours?” your eyes narrowed and your lips pouted just a little bit with the suggestive tilt of your head as your mind whirled through the possibilities. Did he just need two hours to decide that maybe you were worth a round or 20 of pressing your back into your mattress, or maybe his mattress? Hell, four mattresses were lying over there on the floor where the movies had been showing, you were not that picky. Literally this table here would suffice. Your face must have betrayed your filthy thoughts because he squeezed your hand and you heard a tiny laugh break free from him.

He was laughing through his words, “Dinner. Just dinner with me. God, will you relax, please?”

His proposal sounded promising. Your eyebrows were lifted in curiosity without you even realizing it you eked out a tiny question for him.

“Like…a dinner date?” This sent a strange wave of panic through you. The tiny smile on his face and the little hum he made as a response sent butterflies flying. You felt at odds with the strange burst of nerves. The idea of having an actual date with this man was, well — you’d never once considered a re-do with him. Back then you’d been so offended, so humiliated, and so angry that the last thing you wanted was to give him a second chance. After a while, you’d even run out of any desire for him to explain himself for what he did back then.

Perhaps a make-up for that botched blind date all those months ago that started all of this trouble was the kind of thing your heart craved deep down inside. You suddenly felt nervous. Sex was one thing but a date with him? Sex was just physical but starting this over again, a date with Kyungsoo felt too vulnerable. Why was that so much scarier to you?

What if he didn’t show up?

Wait, he was trapped here and he was the one doing the cooking. Plus if he didn't show up, you knew where you could find him. You’d beat down the door and kick his ass as long as he was hiding away in one of the rooms here that didn't have any spiders.

His eyebrows lifted and the smile he was wearing on his lips was gone.

“You don’t want to?” He asked the question and left his lips hanging open. You could see on his face that despite the false bravado he wore when he proposed the date, to begin with, he also was feeling a lot of the same nerves about it that you felt. His focus on your face was flighty, not quite able to commit to solid eye contact with you with this heavy question handing in the air like this.

“Okay,” you finally answered in a whisper and you closed up your mouth and nodded your head up and down twice.

Kyungsoo’s eyes watched your face and you caught him mirroring the same head nod. “Okay,” he also whispered.

You nodded again and he was quiet as he looked at you, eventually looking away from you and looking around the kitchen space with a small exhale of air through his mouth. He didn’t move, but what was even worse was that you also did not move. You weren’t sure how to do it.

Oh. Oh no. Oh no this was awkward. Did you just say goodbye and walk away? Did you give him, like, a high five or maybe lean into him for a hug, God that would be terrible, Imagine? A hug, thanks buddy, thanks pal, thanks for letting me make out with you, sorry to freak you out when I got too into it and touched your boner because apparently that is a no-touchy zone, I did not get the memo about the boner. Should you lean in and give him a kiss on the cheek? How did you leave this situation with at least one-fourth of your dignity, an acceptable amount for someone with your history of humiliating yourself, still intact?

The kiss on the cheek might be okay, right? His cheeks were soft and his skin was smooth. You took the smallest step into him and you leaned in for it, but oh god, he was moving already. You leaned at the exact same moment that he spun around on his feet and began to walk away from you toward the doorway that led toward the bunk beds, which would have been completely fine except for the fact that he had seen you beginning to lean into him right before he moved. He had seen you move, he had seen you lean, but his feet had already stepped, his body had already begun the exit process and what resulted was a terrible, awful, awkward time in which he stopped walking abruptly and turned back around to face you, halfway toward the doorway, stuck somewhere in the middle of this kitchen with him again facing you and neither of you wanting to explain to each other with words why the journey to the exit had been halted so abruptly.

“No,” you shook your head back and forth. His face was pink again. “No, just go. You already ruined it.”

“What were you going to do?”

“Doesn't matter. It’s over.” You sidestepped him and moved quickly through the space, placing your handle on the kitchen door and pulling it open. You hurled yourself into the darkness of the hallway, feeling just a tiny bit of irritation at the realization that you could still hear the sound of his footsteps very clearly. He hadn’t stayed behind in that kitchen but he seemed to be following you down the hallway toward the room with your bunks.

“You were leaning, what were you leaning for?”

“Why are you following me? I have things to do. Alone, Kyungsoo.” You emphasized the last bit while looking directly into his eyes and he was fighting his smile a little but he didn’t seem to stop following you until you reached the door to the bunks and stopped to look at him with your hand on the door handle.

“I just need to get my bag. Then you can have the place to yourself.” He was already pushing past you, rushing through the room toward the bed in the back and he was grabbing a black duffel that he slung over his shoulder and he made quick work of the distance with his quick walking reaching the space in the doorway that you still occupied in no time.

When he was back at your side you moved inside the room to give him room for his exit but before he disappeared through the doorway you caught an abrupt shift in his balance. When he was close enough he leaned into you and pressed his soft lips against your cheek, lingering against your skin for one second too long before he pulled back again and looked into your eyes. Admittedly, you hadn’t expected that at all and you had closed your eyes halfway through the lingering part and you had to act quickly to open your eyes up in time so as not to miss the smoldering look part.

“Now, wouldn’t that have been awkward to do back in the kitchen when I was going to come all the way over here the whole time?”

You’d opened your mouth and inhaled a breath to respond to him. You would have lied and told him that you weren’t going to kiss him in the kitchen, or that he was imagining things again, or maybe you would lie and say you took it back and you didn’t want to have sex with him ever. He had already disappeared and the heavy door slammed shut before you had a chance to think of a clever comeback.

Links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

#exo fanfiction #kyungsoo #exo smut #exo fic #kyungsoo fic #exo story #kyungsoo smut #doh kyungsoo #reader fic

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holywizardheart · 1 year ago

Text

Astrology observations :)

Don't copyright my work

The pictures aren't mine

Enjoy the reading

(I'm in love with this manhwa >_<)

Aries north node in this lifetime you should only rely on yourself and become an independent individual

Mars in the 12th house could also indicate a bad relationship with men generally. You can sense some kind of hatred and hostility from them.

Venus Uranus negative aspects can indicate unstable love life. There are so many ups and downs in this area. Also, you can date unique people that are considered outcasts in society :)

Venus Mars aspects they may prefer dating people they are physically attracted to.

Empty 7th house can mean that you are usually single and don't have a lot of experience in relationship

Venus Uranus square/opposition in transit it can be really hard to settle down on one relationship. You can lose interest quickly and change partners.

When mars transits your 1st house it can mean you can lose weight and start to work on your body

Taurus MC another placement that indicate singing talent in birthchart. You can become popular for your voice.

I noticed that aries moon express their negative emotions through working out and sport. I guess workout helps them to deal with it.

7th house ruler in the 11th house can mean that you may meet your future spouse through friends

Venus jupiter negative aspects sometimes they spend their money on useless stuff not thinking about it deeply

Mars saturn aspects stable and consistent guys when it comes to achieveing something

Scorpio moons when will you stop being sneaky and suspicious about everything?

The most mysterious sign is pisces not scorpio. Because even pisces don't know anything about themselves too.

Sun moon negative aspects can represent conflicts between your mother and father

Because the sun represents the father

And the moon represents the mother

#astro community #astrology #astro observations #astro notes #natal chart #astro memes #astroworld #astrology transits #tropical astrology #astro posts

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zykamiliah · 3 months ago

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hey! i haven't seen mha in a looong time and i've never payed attention to bakudeku (mostly because i'm not the biggest fan of bully romance), but i'd love to see your take/interpretation/analysis on it? i've been a really big fan of your svsss metas and so i just thought, "hey, you know what, i'm curious to see zykamiliah's take on a ship i've never been interested in from an anime that i haven't seen in years! maybe i'll see something?"

not too sure if you already made a post explaining it (so sorry if you did!), but i've seen enough of the sudden rise of bakudeku reblogs on my feed from your account to ignite my curiosity lol

i just really enjoy hearing about ships because they're an amazing opportunity to explore dynamics and perspectives i've never given much thought/thought about before (coming from a rare pair lover... oh gyx/lbg, my sweet...) so i'd love to see bakudeku, a ship i don't quite understand (yet!) in a more understanding, different, and interesting light! and in complete honesty i trust your judgement with insightful character and ship analysis stuff, so... yeah!

heeey jade! sorry for the wait, i've been busy with work and irl stuff :DDD but i'm here now!

where to even begin lol... well, it's important to note that the relationship between midoriya izuku, the protagonist, and bakugo katsuki, the deuteragonist, is one of the main narrative lines of the manga, at the very core of the story. katsuki is izuku's narrative foil, their character developments are intrinsically connected (specially katsuki's!), and the same can be said about the themes of heroism, of what makes a hero, who can be a hero, what type of hero society needs, or if it needs them at all, etc., questions that also tie to the evolution of their relationship.

so from the start i was sold on this dynamic because i really like relationships that are at the center of a story!! i also like relationships with a complicated history with lots of drama and ups and downs, and i like that each character has their own things going on in their lives even if they are connected and one of the most important persons in each other's lives. big big bonus guaranteed to get my full attention if they are obsessed with each other lol

the thing is, deku and bakugo are in a bad place when the story kicks in. bakugo isn't an active bully, in the sense that he doesn't constantly seek deku out to hurt him, but he IS horribly mean and hostile, and that's because for years he's felt threatened by deku (and deku's heroic qualities), and wants to push him away, because he also feels that deku is looking down on him. the story doesn't shy away from showing and acknowledging that bakugo's behavior is atrocious and needs to change, and it works towards it consistently: he eventually atones, apologizes, and changes. on the other side of the coin, deku has always been paying attention to bakugo and, despite how the latter treated him, would chase him, observe him to the point he has bakugo's moves memorized, takes inspiration from his fighting style and even imitates him to give himself courage to do something specially daring and when he wants to "win" more than "save"; bakugo is his image of victory, ever since they were kids.

i scrolled through my bkdk meta tag, since it's been yeeeeears since i was involved in the fandom, lol, and found this post that tackles the bullying issue specifically and makes some very good points, if you wanted to read it! :D

the manga eventually addresses the problems in their relationship in "Deku vs Kacchan 2" (chapters 117-119), at the time bakugo is feeling turmoils for the part he played in All Might's end. to the question of "why does deku chase and care about bakugo if bakugo is so mean to him?" ch 119 has deku answer that himself:

this fight is the turning point for their relationship, and for the rest of the manga their individual and dual development is mostly upwards. reading bnha is worth it, if anything, just for the beauty of bakugo katsuki's development.

another big aspect that got me hooked in their relationship from the very first anime episode (and first opening) is that they are

✨Childhood Friends✨

(strap in this is gonna get loooooooooong)

Childhood friends (Osananajimi) is kind of a huge trope in manga/anime, often as a romantic interest. According to some sources i quickly consulted in the internet, and some of the manga/anime I've watched, in Japanese culture osananajimi is considered one of the purest bond formed between people, with a level of closeness equal to that between blood relatives; formed at such an early age, at a time when societal restrictions didn't apply yet, the relationship is genuine because they still didn’t need or know how to hide their true feelings from each other. As the childhood friends grew up together, this is considered a special connection, somewhat different to those formed after societal norms and perceptions take precedence. Or, as makeste put it:

here we have two very young children who are introduced to each other at an age when they’re still young enough to have absolutely no secrets. they’re young enough to have not yet learned to be shy or self-conscious, or to downplay their enthusiasm so as not to let others know they care. kids that young don’t hide anything. they don’t lie or deceive. they don’t have agendas, and they assume that others don’t either. it is, in short, a very pure type of relationship in the sense that it’s honest and uncomplicated, that it is exactly what it appears to be at face value. their personalities are fully out there with no attempt at reining anything in. Katsuki witnesses the full force of Izuku’s boundless hero-worshipping energy and enthusiasm. Izuku witnesses the full extent of Katsuki’s relentless confidence and Peter Pan cockiness. both boys see each other for who they are in their entirety, and accept each other. this is a fundamental bond. there is trust built between the two of them at a critical, formative age. it’s a relationship formed so early on that it’s likely that neither of them can actually recall a time before they met the other. they are and have always been a constant in each other’s lives. they’re a lot like siblings in terms of that kind of closeness and complete understanding of the other, both the good and the bad. in fact I’d say that Izuku’s use of “Kacchan” (and Katsuki’s automatic acceptance of it) isn’t that different from a younger brother’s use of “Niisan” for his older brother. it’s very revealing of the type of relationship they have. and that includes the typical sibling squabbles as well. it’s very much a relationship that’s taken for granted; there’s no filter, no effort to hold back, no attempt at trying to tone down their behavior around one another. there is whining and bragging and squabbling and name-calling and tears, just as much as there is cooperation and respect and trust. because at the end of the day, the assumption is that the relationship will endure no matter what, so they can go at each other as hard as they can and it doesn’t matter. the other one’s presence is just a given. that’s the kind of relationship that this term “childhood friends” really encapsulates, I think.

The sudden change of their statuses when the quirks start to manifest is a major factor that placed them on opposite sides of the social hierarchy, and conditioned the way society and their peers would treat them. But despite this and the misunderstandings that happen between them and the falling apart of their relationship, the subconscious understanding between them remains intact through the years. They always flashback to their earlier memories. They probably didn't interact much in elementary or middle school, and even if they did, they interactions were already tainted by their social status and Bakugo’s hostility. They don't share their innermost feelings with anyone but each other. Like when Deku gets angry or determined to win and to surpass him, or when Bakugo screams and cries out his emotional turmoil at Deku. According to Japanese social rules those are selfish things to do. This relates to the concepts of honne and tatemae.

Japanese society is more regimented than one might believe just from watching anime. By middle school age, and even to some degree in primary school, children are expected to interact with their peers in a relatively professional way. This is especially true of relationships between students of opposite sexes. Such requirements aren't held for family or close friends, but for everyone else one is expected to be polite and not share their true feelings or say things too directly. This concept of dividing people into an in-group and an out-group (内外, uchi-soto) is somewhat hard for non-Japanese people to understand, but is central to interactions between people in Japanese culture. In fact, you can find plenty of examples of this and of the related concepts of honne and tatemae in anime if you look, but if you aren't looking for them specifically it's easy to miss. (source)

So, for example, you shouldn't show your true feelings/thoughts to other people, even more if they aren’t socially acceptable, because that may disturb the peace in the community. But because Deku and Kacchan are osananajimi that have known each other their whole life, that doesn't apply to them. By stating from the very beginning that Kacchan was Deku's childhood friend, Hori put them in a close relationship with each other with a level of intimacy, trust and a subconscious understanding not like any other. Kacchan is, in fact, closer to him than All Might himself.

Like, Deku has been calling Bakugo by his childhood nickname, Kacchan ("Ka[tsu]" from Katsuki + "-chan", which is usually used to address children or females in an affectionate way), even past the age he was excepted it to drop it. When they were 4 years old, the other kids called him "Kacchan" too, but growing up it would be seen as childish or disrespectful so they start to call him "Katsuki" or "Bakugo". This puts a level of distance between him and his peers that, regardless of what happened between them, didn't extend to Deku and Katsuki. And it had to cross Deku's mind at some point ( "Should I start calling him Katsuki/Bakugo too?") but he didn't or simply couldn't. Despite everything, he wasn't willing to put even more distance between himself and Bakugo. He deliberately refused to put formal distance between them, and more importantly, Bakugo just LET THAT BE.

___

Like, this was a great set up from the beginning for me. I knew there was a story there from the first episodes, and then "Deku vs Kacchan 1" happened, showing their childhood flashbacks and the misunderstandings that would persist until DvK2, and i was really into that lol They relationship was one of the main reasons I followed the manga.

i mean LOOK at THIS!

how i could NOT ship it i mean come on

Even their color schemes complement each other, and their costumes have the same/similar colors. they are are complementary opposites that share the same core: to become a hero, their admiration of All Might. Each of them has a quality the other lacks and needs to work on to become the heroes: heroes that win and save, as All Might put it. Selflessness and Selfishness: to help and save others, in one side, and to care for one's personal victory, in the other. Bakugo was obsessed with victory and glory, and Deku was willing to do anything to save others, to the point of self-destruction. These isolated qualities didn't made them good heroes, but combined, as the two learn them from each other, by the end of the story they really become two of the greatest heroes.

This connects with their rivalry, which is richer than any other in the manga because of the many layers to their relationship: they are obsessed with each other, want to compete with each other (for the rest of their lives!!!) and don't want the other to fall behind, specially after their misunderstandings are resolved. They also don't want to be left behind by the other. Because they love each other too much! Whether people interpret it as platonic or romantic or whatever in between (secret third they are like like four different types of greek love categories combined), they are each other's More Important Person outside of family members. Hell, Kacchan getting hurt is basically Deku's berserk button: he punches All Might in the face to save Katsuki during the end of term exam; he goes crazy protective and possessive when Katsuki gets kidnapped by the League of villains(Mr. Compress even calls him out lmao)

he goes crazy when Katsuki is hurt in front of him

and when he thought katsuki had died...

i mean. look at this romantic shit.

lol and i feel like i'm leaving many other stuff behind, like Bakugo's apology, and all the little moments after DvK, and all the times in the last arc where Bakugo was thinking about Izuku constantly, and the finale where Katsuki cried because Deku had given up OFA and was going to be quirkless again, and the fact that he was at the heart of the mecha suit years-long project because he wanted Izuku's dream, their dreams, to come true. but tbh I only read them the one time and need to reread the whole manga again to refresh my knowledge. and i already shipped them before all this haha.

they are amazing characters in a really well done shonen manga they have a beautiful story 🧡💚

#aaaaaah finally i've been thinking about this all week #and i don't think i've said everything i wanted to say lol but my thoughts are too disorganized #if you want to talk about it more you can DM me :D #i was proudly with the club of people shipping them before it was cool and stopped being controversial #the issue with the bad fan translations made things look worse than they were in the beginning #and like that set the tone in the fandom for a looooong time until DvK2 and beyond i think #bnha #bakudeku #bkdk #zykamiliah-bnha #dekubaku #katsudeku #ask zy #dkbk #deku and kacchan #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #deku & kacchan

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txttletale · 1 year ago

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You've spoken at length about how the Lancer setting is just wildly incongruent with what the authors think it is at length, and I agree wholeheartedly. My question is, largely for the purpose of if I ever want to run a game of it again, how would you make the setting carry that tone the authors think it has without too terribly much rewriting? Say, from the point of 'there was a revolution to overthrow seccom'? I love the 'gallant warriors of liberation in giant robots' and would like it if the game actually was that.

But the more the bureaucratic apparatus is “redistributed” among the various bourgeois and petty-bourgeois parties , the more keenly aware the oppressed classes, and the proletariat at their head, become of their irreconcilable hostility to the whole of bourgeois society. Hence the need for all bourgeois parties, even for the most democratic and "revolutionary-democratic" among them, to intensify repressive measures against the revolutionary proletariat, to strengthen the apparatus of coercion, i.e., the state machine. This course of events compels the revolution "to concentrate all its forces of destruction" against the state power, and to set itself the aim, not of improving the state machine, but of smashing and destroying it.

-- Vladimir Lenin, The State & Revolution

In the heady days after the revolution, the air buzzed with potential. The future was today. Hazy, gaseous dreams of liberation patiently awaited their turn to be forged into something you could touch. But those days didn't last for long. The coalition was already a fragile thing during the revolution, and now that it was faced with the levers of Union's imperial machine each hairline crack became a chasm. The corporate armies, who had marched under the banner of the enormous profits locked away behind Harrison Armory's legal monopolies, had reached their personal horizons and refused to move an inch further. The moderates and high-class intellectuals saw the wealth that Union funneled from its edges being distributed generously to the citizens of the Core Worlds and declared a new economic paradigm of post-scarcity and mutual wealth. The anarchist cells with their mysterious reality-hacking mechs were the first to come to the only inevitable conclusion: the revolution was not over.

Now that the old order had been surgically deposed, the new order was finding itself fitting comfortably in its throne. Humbled and stripped of its previous privileges, Harrison Armory was welcomed back into the halls of power under the smiling auspices of free enterprise. Groundbreaking legislation was still being written in the halls of ThirdComm--guaranteeing the right of worlds to self-determination, the rights of clones to live freely, even radical and heretofore-unthinkable proposals laying the groundwork for an end to NHP-shackling. But the old revolutionaries had grown weary and cautious (and, of course, had begun to personally experience the economic benefits of Union's vast hegemony). To enforce this legislation, they argued, would be a de facto redeclaration of war against the corpostates, a disaster for the trade networks on which our wealth depends. To those who still harboued the hopes of revolutionary change, this was a loud and clear signal: the war had not ended. The revolution was not over.

The All-Galaxy Revolutionary Front as it exists now is a set of strange bedfellows. The disciplined combat battalions of the Communist Party fly in perfect harmony, distinguishable by their red battle flags, mass-produced in collectivized forges with reverse-engineered corpo tech. The motley individual oddities that the anarchists call their mechs, their open-source physics-bending HORUS peculiarities, strike unpredictably, in and out of ThirdComm's sight. But the one thing which binds them all, as they fight for the liberation of the peripheral worlds, for the wealth of mines and factories to enrich the people of the planets they're built on instead of fueling ever-replenishing consumption in the distant Core, is that they still have those old revolutionary dreams.

This is what it means to be a Lancer: to be willing to struggle. To acknowledge that the revolution is not over.

#ask #scrumpledorph #ttrpg #is this technically lancer fanfiction? yeah

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leedosbunnyboy · 1 year ago

Text

Kyojuro Rengoku; The Flame Burning in My Soul

Genre: Angst

Pairing: Kyojuro Rengoku x Male Reader | (side) Tengen Uzui x Male Reader

Warning(s): Very Narrative Driven, Very Long(?), Slight Manga Spoilers, Mourning, Death

Summary: Living without the love of your life can do a number on you, especially when you’re living everyday wondering if you even want to go on.

Part I

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

He’s gone…

It feels like it was only yesterday that he was holding you and promising to marry you…

He’s gone…

He said the mission was going to be easy…

He’s gone…

He was supposed to come back safely…

He’s gone…

He’s just playing a prank!

He’s gone…

He sent that crow with a phony letter to scare us!

He’s gone…

Mr. Uzui must be in on it as well!

He’s gone…

They’re such pranksters!

He’s gone…

He’ll be back soon…

He’s gone…

I can’t wait until-

HE’S

GONE

NOW

…

It can’t be real…

it just can’t be…

•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*

You tried to convince yourself it wasn’t real. That it was all some sick game Kyojuro thought would be funny. That was until you saw his crow flying to the estate while you were outside cleaning with Senjuro, followed by a young boy with a scar…

“Are you Senjuro? And Sir Rengoku’s lover?” The boy asked before politely bowing.

“I take it you know about Mr. Rengoku? I’m so sorry. Before he died, he asked for some messages to be delivered to you, your father, and his lover. I’ve come to pass them on.” He stated.

“From my brother? Thank you, but i’m already well aware of what happened to him.” Senjuro solemnly stated. You moved closer to him to rub his shoulder. “What’s wrong?! Your face! It looks as pale as a ghost!”

“Knock it off!” All three of you were surprised by the sudden outburst. “Whatever message he left means nothing anyway! Why would he become a swordsman when he had no talent to being with! It’s no wonder he died! He’s worthless.” You gripped on the broom tighter, your eyes beginning to swell with tears at Shinjuro’s words. “He was a fool of a son from the start! A person’s potential is determined the day they’re born. Only a mere handful have any talent… the rest are just dregs of society. You’re either born a genius or someday killed by one!” Shinjuro stopped to take a drink. “It’s clear which one Kyojuro was. He had no future to begin with. No surprise he got killed.” Senjuro cuddled closer into your side.

“You shut your mouth!” You screamed, surprising all three boys. “Kyojuro had a bright future ahead of him! He was to come back and marry me! We were to be wed and start a life together! All my life, I dreamed of spending my last days with him, so don’t you dare stand here and soil his name by calling him worthless because he meant everything to me!” You fought back tears as Senjuro leaned closer to comfort you. “Just because you’re a sad old man who gave up on his own life doesn’t give you the right to speak badly about an other’s!”

“Give me a break! The funeral is over! It’s high time you both move on with your damn lives!” You held the youngest Rengoku behind you as he cried into your kimono.

“Just a moment!” The boy with a checkered haori moved to stand in front of you and Senjuro. “Don’t you think you’re being a bit too harsh? Please show some respect for your son!” He yelled.

“And just who the hell are you? Answer me! Or get off of my property!” Shinjuro yelled.

“I’m with… the demon slayer corps!” He announced. Something he did somehow caused Shinjuro to drop his jar of saké.

The next few moments were a blur to you. One second, he was yelling at the young slayer boy about sun breathing, the next he had him pinned to the ground, and then you were holding Senjuro after his father had hit him.

“Don’t you dare lay a hand on him you monster!” You rushed to put some distance between Senjuro and the altercation in front of you. “Why are you acting so hostile like this in the first place? Insulting your own child who lost his life… in front of his fiancé no less! And striking your son; what’s the matter with you?!”

“Are you alright?” You examined Senjuro’s face. He nodded, but still held the injury. “I’ll get you some ointment after he calms down, okay?” Senjuro nodded and you held him close to him, before turning back to see the boy lunging at Shinjuro.

“Young slayer, be careful!” You yelled. “He’s a former hashira!” Senjuro shouted as the boy was punched in the face by Shinjuro. “Please father! Have mercy!” You stepped away from Senjuro to rush towards the boy.

Your eyes widened as you saw the boy knock out a former hashira… with a head butt? You put your shock aside and caught both of them.

“Senjuro, please take this boy inside. I’ll deal with your father.” The young boy eagerly came to assist you as you painstakingly took the older man inside.

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

Now you three found yourself in the main living area of the house as you applied some ointment to Senjuro’s injury and examined the other slayer boy’s injuries.

“I feel like I’ve made a grave mistake.” The boy said with a bowed head after you applied a simple healing balm to his forehead. You left to your room soon after, but you kept your door open to keep an ear out for Senjuro.

“Please sir, have some tea.”

“Thank you very much. I hope you can forgive me… for head butting your father and all. He’s okay right?” The boy asked.

“Oh yeah, he’ll be fine. (M/n)’s an amazing doctor, so it’s not like he’d be down for too long. And besides, he’s back to getting saké already.” Senjuro explained.

“What a relief.” The slayer huffed.

“You have my thanks.” Senjuro said, seemingly to the other boy’s surprise. “For standing up to him. I was too scared to. Even when he badmouthed my brother like that. I’m sure (M/n) is grateful too.” You watched through the back door as Shinjuro wobbled off to purchase more saké. “Tell me. What were my brothers last moments like.” You suddenly remembered why that boy was here in the first place. As that all too familiar pain began to emerge in your chest, you shut the door. You didn’t need anymore grief. Your heart has had enough as it is.

•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*

A knock to your door awoke you from the nap you hadn’t even noticed you took. “Come in.” You groggily called and watched as Senjuro slowly walked in. “Our visitor has left.” He said. You nodded before Senjuro ran over and collapsed in your arms. You raked your fingers through his hair as he loudly sobbed into your shoulder. “It’ll be alright. We’ll get through this.” You cupped his face and looked into his teary eyes. “For Kyojuro, okay?” You held out your pinky to him. He nodded before interlocking your fingers.

“It was difficult getting him to accept Kyojuro’s sword guard. He swore he couldn’t accept it.” Senjuro lightly chuckled recounting his encounter with the young slayer boy you now knew as Tanjiro. “He said that you should’ve kept it.” He smiled. “I couldn’t keep that thing even if I wanted to. I’d get too sad.” You said, running your fingers through Senjuro’s hair.

“‘Don’t let me limit your heart’,” Senjuro said out of the blue. “‘Please allow someone else to give you the love i wish i could’ve, because you deserve the world and more. I hope you find a man who will treat you like the prince you are in my place.’” “What are you on about?” You turned to face him. “Those were Kyojuro’s last words to you. Tanjiro said he had the most to say about you. Apparently he wouldn’t shut up about how excited he was to marry his boyfriend when he returned from his mission.” You felt Senjuro’s tears falling in your lap before you even noticed the ones dripping down your cheeks.

You two cried a lot that night…

And the next…

And while you could’ve sworn you were hearing things, you knew Shinjuro was crying too.

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

“You shouldn’t push yourself ya know? That’s not very flashy of you.” The sound hashira called to you as you continued to train.

You had chosen to become Tengen Uzui’s tsugoku as a means of defending yourself after Kyojuro’s death. It would be hard for anyone to train like this, but now imagine you’ve gone your whole life without as much as touching a sword, to now pushing yourself to train every day with one until your heart felt like it was on the brink of giving out.

“If you expect me to be ready for battle within the current century, you’ll let me continue.” You said, not even sparing a glance towards the older man behind you.

He scoffed before walking towards you and gripping your sword. “That’s enough (M/n).” He sternly instructed. “We’ll pick this up tomorrow.”

You let go off your sword and stormed off, leaving the taller to slowly trail behind as he fiddled with your blade.

“You can be quite the brat ya know?” He commented as you made your way back towards the Rengoku residence.

“And you can be quite the headache.” You pulled off your geta and made your way towards the kitchen, not before greeting Senjuro with a hug and kiss to his forehead. Afterwards, starting on dinner for you all, as well as your unwanted flashy guest.

“I don’t know why you insist on staying here. You have a home with three wives to return to.” You snidely commented as you poured stew into Senjuro’s plate.

“Well, my home doesn’t have my cute tsugoku at it now does it?” Tengen smirked at your irritated expression.

You inhaled deeply before launching his plate at him; however, he caught it rather easily and began to dig in as if nothing happened. Curse him for being a skilled hashira. “And besides, you know they’re not there.”

You took your place next to Senjuro and angrily began to eat. Stuffing your face full of stew and barely even giving yourself time to chew.

“Thank you for the meal (M/n)!” Senjuro hugged you before running off to his room, realizing the tense atmosphere he found himself in the middle of.

“If you want a real answer, I worried about you (M/n).” Tengen stated as he placed his bowl down. “You never wanted to even touch a sword, but now you push yourself to train with one every day. It’s not healthy.”

“Who cares how I was in the past. So what if I want to wield a sword now? You should only concern yourself with training me.” You glared at him.

“You won’t defeat the demon that killed Kyojuro.” He deadpanned. “You’re far too weak… and if you plan on pushing yourself like this, you’ll be dead before you even have the chance to try.”

You tighten your hands into fists and inhaled deeply, attempting to keep yourself from crying.

Tengen shifted to be seated beside you and laid your head on his shoulder. “It’s okay to cry ya know? Just let it all out.” You sobbed into his shoulder as he rubbed your back.

“Once we get back from this mission… please listen to me. I promise I’ll help you get stronger, without you pushing your body so hard.” You nodded against his body and he smiled gently down at you. He cupped your face so that know you were facing his.

“Go get some rest.” He pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Meet me at the Butterfly Estate tomorrow morning. I’ll be there to find a girl to help on this mission.” You nodded. He smiled and placed a kiss to your forehead before standing up. “See you later (M/n).”

•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*

“You’re an idiot you know that?” You cried as you held the only hand Tengen had left.

While you expected to engage in battle during this mission to gather information on the sound hashira’s wives, you never expected to encounter an upper moon, much less two of them. Now you sat in the aftermath of the battle: bloodied and bruised; but your injuries were nothing compared to Tengen’s. His forearm had been cut off and he was poisoned. He didn’t have much time left.

“Hey calm down.” He cupped your face gently. “Nice to see that pretty face of yours wasn’t damaged.”

“Shut up! Focus on yourself!” You yelled at him as you struggled to apply pressure to his severed arm.

“Appreciate the effort sweetheart, but it’s not this injury that’s gonna kill me.” You realized that the poison was still ravaging his body.

“Shit! I forgot my medicines back home. If only I would’ve brought them none of this would’ve-!” A small tap to your shoulder averted your attention from the sound hashira to the young kamado girl that now sat beside you.

She gently pressed her hand against Uzui before… SETTING HIM ON FIRE?! You and all of Tengen’s wives screamed in horror as you watched the older man being engulfed in pink flames. Makio, Hinatsuru, and Suma bickered amongst themselves as they yelled at Nezuko, but you focused on how Tengen’s once purple skin now began to clear.

You sat amazed as you watched Uzui heal from what was once a deadly venom.

Tengen slowly turned to you and smiled. “I guess I’m so flashy, even death can’t beat me.”

You wept as you tackled the larger man into your embrace, the others watching with endearment as the sound hashira held you. “Don’t scare me like that you asshole.” Uzui simply laughed as he wiped your tears.

“What do ya say we get out of here?” He announced to his wives as they, alongside you, helped him get up and walk away.

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

You very carefully worked on reapplying the sound hashira’s bandages as he carefully held you in his lap.

“You’re really cute when you’re all focused like that.” Tengen commented once you finished wrapping him up.

“Shut up.” You walked away from him as you worked on reorganizing your ointments and medicines. Uzui chuckled to himself as he lovingly watched you work.

“Hey (M/n)?” Tengen called out which caused you to turn to face him. “Yes?” He beckoned you to come closer to him, and you obliged. Adjusting yourself to sit in his lap. “Why don’t you come and live here with us?” He offered. “What do you mean?” You looked up at him, confused as to what his true intentions were. “Will you allow me to court you and become my husband? I could use another man around the house to balance things out ya know?” He smiled gently at you.

You slowly moved off him as you attempted to put some space between you. “Is something wrong?” Tengen shot you a concerned look, looking shocked when you rejected his attempt to hold your hand. “I-I’m not- I can’t… I still…” Tengen grasped your hand. “It’s alright (M/n). I understand.” He rubbed your knuckles lovingly. “I’m sorry-“ “Don’t be.” He cut you off. “You have no reason to explain yourself.” He knew your heart still belonged to Kyojuro and he respected that. You two sat in a comfortable silence as you slowly allowed yourself to return to sit in Tengen’s lap.

“My heart still isn’t ready to move on, but I promise you, the day it is, it’ll be yours.” You looked up at him. “And I’ll be more than happy to accept it.” He brought your hand to his lips and pressed a sweet kiss to your knuckles.

•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*

It all moved entirely too fast.

One day you were enjoying a day out on the town with Uzui and his wives, and now you watched as the demon who killed Kyojuro faded into dust.

“We did (M/n).” Tanjiro wept as he attempted to apply pressure to the wound in your stomach. “You did it.”

You smiled and coughed up blood. “You’re not injured are you?” You looked up at the scarred boy.

“No sir.” He wiped some tears from his face. “I’m glad.” You breathed deeply before realizing one of your lungs must’ve been punctured as you struggled with something as simple as that.

“You should be worried about yourself. You’re in two pieces.” Tomioka quietly stated as his sat down beside you.

“I’ll be alright.” You felt your eyelids slowly become heavier and heavier with each blink of your eyes. “Stop with this nonsense Mr. (M/n)! You’re going to die soon! Please speak with some urgency!” Tanjiro cried out. You simply chuckled and reached up to cup his face. “Why should I be sad? The killer of my lover has been killed by my efforts and now I’m presented with the opportunity to see Kyojuro again. I have no reason to be upset. In fact… I’m rather relieved. So please, don’t mourn me. Who knows how many lives I have helped to save by ridding the world of that demon. I will go on with no regrets in this world.” You explained, watching as both men before you accepted your death.

“Tanjiro, please tell Senjuro I’m sorry to give him another loss, but please assure him I will be watching over him. Me and Kyojuro both will be excited to see the great man he becomes.” Your breaths started to become much shallower. “And for Mr. Uzui, please tell him I apologize I couldn’t give him my heart, but that I will cherish all the love he still gave me in spite of my inability to do so.” Tanjiro became more panicked as he realized your heart beat was slowing down. “Please, save your breath-“ Tomioka covered his mouth, allowing you to continue. “And for you both, go out there and save the world. I’ll be cheering you on.” You shut your eyes. “Set your heart ablaze.”

And just like that, you were gone…

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

You awoke in a grassy field. The sun was bright and wind was warm, feeing almost as if it was pressing kissed against your skin every time it passed by. The tall reeds swayed in the blowing wind and brushed against your legs, slightly tickling you. Everything was perfect.

“I’m proud of you!” A familiar voice boomed through the air.

You slowly turned around as you laid your eyes on the man you have longed to see ever since that faithful night…

“K-Kyojuro…?”

“It’s me (M/n).” He smiled to you and opened his arms.

Your eyes rang and your breath hitched. It couldn’t be…?

Your shock was short-lived as you rushed towards him, immediately landing in his arms and tackling him to the soft grass. His body was as warm as you remembered. His arms immediately resting at your waist, just like he used to. His scent was as vibrant as you recalled.

It was him.

He was here.

With you.

“Where are we?” You looked around you. While it was peaceful, it was not where you recalled ever visiting.

“We’re in heaven love.” Kyojuro stated as he ran his fingers through your hair.

“Ah, I guess I died during that battle against Akaza.” The former flame hashira nodded as he held you close to him.

“No matter how you got here, you did amazing!” He smiled brightly at you, causing your heart to skip a beat. “And now we’ll never be separated again!”

You smiled back at him.

Sure, nothing has gone how you would prefer it to, but life has a way of subverting expectations, yet somehow managing to give you everything you wanted.

•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*

Note(s): I wasn’t planning on making a part 2 to the original fic, but I had a sudden urge to write a bittersweet ending and immediately got to writing. I apologize if it’s too choppy, but I didn’t want it to be crazy long and a lot of what I originally planned was really just filler lol. Anyways, I hope you enjoy and have a great day/night!

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