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theesirenteller · 2 months ago

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𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐑

Chapter Eight : 𝕬𝖎𝖓'𝖙 𝕹𝖔 𝕱𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖞𝖙𝖆𝖑𝖊 | ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

Epiphany felt an uneasiness in the pit of her stomach as she arrived at the strip club. She hadn’t been there in what felt like forever. She found it almost humorous that Rio would ask her to meet him here. In the parking lot of all places. She felt as though she was nothing more than an expendable street-walker the moment she laid eyes on his black truck. Draping her arms around her waist, Epiphany stepped forward. Her baby-blue stilettos clicked against the gravel as the car slowed down. Despite the windows being tinted black, she could see him looking at her. Feel him looking at her.

Mick was the first person she physically laid eyes on. He gave her a simple head nod as he held the passenger side door open for her. Gulping drly, she walked to the car and got into the passenger seat. For a few minutes, she looked forward. Epiphany and Rio both kept quiet.

Perhaps they were mourning the fresh death of their relationship or maybe they both were in a state of shock.

“Is there someone else?”

Rio scoffed at her question. A dry cackle escaped his lips shortly after.

"I've been thinkin' a lot about this little thing between us, and, uh... I'm gonna have to cut you loose, sweetheart."

The words landed like a hammer on Epiphany's chest. Her eyes widened, The glow that usually colored her cheeks faded, and her once-bright smile crumbled. Her mouth opened, but for a beat, no words came out. She was too shocked to speak. It would have hurt less if he had slapped her and walked away—at least then, she would’ve felt something concrete, something she could hold onto.

"W-what? Why?" she stammered, searching his face for answers, for some sign that he didn’t really mean it. She thought she knew him, thought she had something solid with him, but his steely gaze only deepened her confusion. "Wait... don't even bother lying," she continued, her voice cracking, raw with disbelief and pain. "It's Beth, isn't it? She's your girl again, isn’t she?"

Her heart raced, each pulse pounding in her ears, amplifying the desperation spilling from her lips. "She's got the club-making bank now, and all of a sudden, she's your shiny new toy again? Or, you both have just been using me to play some sick game," Her voice broke, and as the words left her, hot tears slipped down her cheeks, tracing lines across her flushed skin. She couldn't stop them, couldn't hold back the ache that had lodged itself in her throat, choking her as the tears turned into full sobs. She felt as though her world had been flipped upside down in an instant. All the promises, the late-night confessions, the fierce passion between them—gone, like smoke in the wind.

It had all happened too fast. Too intense. Like a match struck and left to burn out in seconds. Rio was a wildfire—unpredictable, consuming everything in his path. He had swept her into his life with a force she couldn't resist, and now he was pulling away, taking everything with him. He had been the one who made her feel alive, like no one ever had. She was drawn to him like a moth to flame, captivated by the danger and excitement he brought into her life. She was no different to him. Epiphany had cut through his darkness with her light, entering his life like a bolt of lightning on a stormy night. In her, he saw a glimmer of hope, a reminder of something good in a world that had long since gone cold.

And maybe, somewhere deep down, he was terrified he’d ruin her too.

But watching her crumble hurt in a way he wasn’t used to. Rio clenched his jaw, forcing himself to keep his expression cold, detached, a stone wall against her heartbreak. He couldn't afford to show any weakness—not now, not with so many loose ends still untied. He hated seeing her in this kind of pain, but it was necessary. It was survival.

"Look..." he murmured, leaning in close, close enough that she could feel the heat of his breath, his presence consuming her once again. He reached out, brushing his thumb across her tear-streaked cheek, catching the drops that clung to her skin. For a moment, his hand lingered there, strong and unyielding, as if he could erase the hurt with a simple touch.

"I gotta tie up all my loose ends. It's nothin' personal, darlin'," he said, his voice low and even, each word carefully measured.

"And I'm just a loose end, huh? That's all I am to you?" Epiphany’s voice was a strained whisper, choked with tears that blurred her vision. Her whole body felt like it was unraveling, like each word he spoke tore another piece from her heart.

His face softened, but his gaze remained steady, unreadable. "I don’t want you hurt."

She let out a hollow laugh, shaking her head as fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. "You can’t hurt a girl that’s already been hurt," she murmured, her voice breaking. She felt hollow, a familiar ache resurfacing. This wasn’t the first time she’d been abandoned, but somehow, this time felt like it would shatter her entirely.

Rio's hand lifted slowly, almost hesitantly, before his fingers brushed her cheek, rough yet achingly gentle. His long fingers, calloused and warm, traced the side of her face, as if trying to memorize the curve of her jaw, the softness of her skin. He lingered, his thumb grazing her cheek, his eyes sweeping over her face like he was engraving each detail into his memory. Those bright brown eyes, so full of hurt yet so full of light, looked up at him, her plump lips quivering as she held back another sob. Three months. That was all it had been. Three months that felt like a lifetime, each moment with her somehow etched deeper than he’d thought possible.

"Christopher," she whispered, her voice a wounded plea. Hearing his real name slip from her lips was almost too much. "Please… don’t do this. I lo—"

Before she could finish, his mouth found hers, cutting off the confession he knew he wasn’t ready to hear. His lips pressed firmly against hers, claiming them with a desperate intensity. His fingers threaded through her hair, pulling her closer, tasting her sweetness for what he told himself would be the last time. He kissed her like he was starving, like he needed every second to feel her warmth, to commit her taste to memory. Her lips trembled against his, returning the kiss with a passion that spoke of both heartbreak and yearning, as if somehow this could change everything.

Then, with a sudden, deafening click, the passenger-side door unlocked, echoing through the silence like a final blow.

He pulled back, leaving only a whisper of space between them, his breath warm against her lips as he gazed at her with a bittersweet intensity. "See, that’s where I know you’re lying," he murmured, his tone laced with a dangerous edge. His eyes gleamed as he held her gaze, the words slipping out like a confession wrapped in venom. "I’m incapable of being loved."

The words twisted like a knife between them, cutting through the closeness they’d shared. He wanted her to believe them, to make her hate him just enough to let her walk away. What he couldn’t say, what he didn’t dare admit, was that he was doing this to protect her. He knew the game he’d been playing with Beth was nothing more than a twisted mess of power, control, and survival. Epiphany had simply gotten caught up in it, an innocent bystander who’d made him feel things he couldn’t afford to feel. She was never supposed to get involved, never meant to become a casualty of his dangerous world.

But looking at her now, he hated himself for dragging her in, for letting her believe in something he knew could never last. He couldn’t let her get any closer, couldn’t bear the thought of her being hurt even worse because of him. He had to make her believe he was as cold, as unfeeling, as he pretended to be.

As his thumb wiped away one last tear, he spoke, his voice low and laced with bitterness, even though every word was a lie. "Beth… she’s got something I need. It was always about that, from the start. I never meant to… well, you got caught up in it, Epiphany." He paused, feeling the weight of his words settle between them, his chest tightening as he fought against the urge to pull her close again. "You were never part of the plan. But now… this is where it ends."

Her face crumbled, the realization dawning on her as her tears continued to flow, her heart breaking piece by piece. He saw the betrayal flash in her eyes, the pain he’d caused her sinking in, and for a moment, he nearly faltered, nearly reached out to tell her the truth. That she was the one real thing in his life, the one piece of light in his dark world. But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. This was for her own good.

With one last, lingering look, he turned away, forcing himself to step back, to let her go. The ache in his chest was a heavy reminder of the choice he was making, the sacrifice he was forcing himself to endure.

"Goodbye, sweetheart," he whispered, his voice barely audible, as he willed himself to ignore the look of heartbreak on her face. And as he walked away, leaving her alone with the shattered remains of their relationship, he told himself it was the only way to keep her safe—even if it meant destroying them both in the process.

Epiphany’s eyes widened, stunned, as she looked at him. Before she could respond, Mick had already opened her door. She tore her gaze from Rio to glance at Mick, hesitating for a moment before grabbing her purse and stepping out of the car. "Why are you shutting me out?" she asked, a frown creasing her face.

He met her question with his own, his voice laced with bitter sarcasm. "How can you say you love me when you don’t even love yourself, Epiphany?" The words stung, and he topped it off with a grim, mocking smile that cut deeper than anything he’d said.

The words hit her like a punch to the gut, sharp and twisting. She felt sick; the nausea bubbled up from her stomach, threatening to overwhelm her. Unable to hold back, she swung her purse toward his face, then turned and bolted across the parking lot. Her heart pounded, each beat echoing the painful realization of her mistake—thinking they could make it work, that two shattered souls could somehow complete each other. But nothing stung worse than watching someone take the secrets you'd entrusted to them and hurl them back at you, using your own vulnerabilities as ammunition. Her emotions swirled, a storm of anger, betrayal, and heartbreak so intense it was suffocating.

Epiphany’s heels clicked against the pavement as she hurried away from the parking lot, her breath ragged and uneven. The sting of his words echoed in her mind, each step a painful reminder of how deeply he’d cut her. She slowed down, finally stopping under the dim glow of a streetlamp. Her reflection stared back at her from a nearby shop window—a face flushed with hurt, eyes rimmed red, her lips trembling as she fought to keep herself together. She wanted to scream, to claw the pain out of her chest, but all she could do was stand there, fighting against the wave of grief that crashed over her.

Taking a shaky breath, she glanced around and noticed a bar down the block. She hesitated, debating whether to numb herself for just a few hours, to silence the noise in her mind. But instead, she turned away, unwilling to let him have the satisfaction of driving her to that low.

Instead, she walked in a daze, aimlessly wandering until she reached the university campus. She drifted through the hallways like a ghost, barely aware of the students who glanced her way as they passed, murmuring quietly.

Finally, she found herself in the lecture hall, sinking into one of the back rows, away from everyone else. She buried her head in her hands, trying to steady her breathing, her body exhausted from the turmoil within her. Here, in the sterile silence of the lecture hall, there was no one to witness her pain. No one to ask questions or tell her to pull herself together. The walls around her felt strangely comforting in their emptiness, holding her pain without judgment, without expectations.

Epiphany glanced up as the last few students filed out, their laughter and chatter feeling like it belonged to another world. And then, once again, she was alone.

A classmate, noticing her somber expression, lingered, taking a seat nearby. After a few moments, Epiphany spoke, her voice quiet but carrying the weight of someone searching for release.

“I underestimated just how life-altering being in love could be," she confessed, eyes fixed on her hands as they twisted nervously in her lap. "Even setting the love part aside, just the companionship changes everything. Talking all day, every day. Sharing jokes, laughter...having someone to just pick up the phone and rant to about the smallest, ugliest details of your day." She paused, forcing a shaky breath. “Then there’s the physical part,” she continued, her voice cracking as she tried to hold back the pain that tightened her chest. “Going without it… it’s like I’m an addict gone cold turkey.”

Her words lingered in the silence, her eyes glistening with unshed tears that ached at the corners, threatening to spill. Her classmate reached over to offer a comforting squeeze, but Epiphany barely registered the gesture. The ache within her was too deep, consuming her thoughts and hollowing her out with every reminder of what she’d lost.

With a small nod, she gathered her things, brushing away the stray tears that finally fell. The world outside felt colder as she stepped into the night, the darkness wrapping around her like a suffocating weight. She walked in silence, feeling the emptiness settling deeper into her heart, her steps heavy and aimless.

Reaching her apartment, she slipped inside and shut the door behind her, locking the world out. The quiet seemed to pulse around her, thick with memories of laughter and warmth that now felt so distant, almost like a dream. She sank down onto her bed, curling up in the emptiness that surrounded her, surrendering to the weight of her loneliness.

The tears she had been holding back finally broke free, her body shaking as she let herself feel the ache fully. In the silence of her room, with only the faint glow of city lights through her window, she realized just how deeply she missed the life she’d built with him, even as pieces of it were still slipping away.

And as the night wore on, she lay there in the darkness, feeling as if the love that once filled her had left a hollowed, aching space in its place—one she wasn’t sure would ever heal.

TAGLIST.

@ravennaortiz @hausofmamadas @fvckthisbxtchup @ravennaortiz

#rio; dealer fanfic #rio good girls #theesirenteller fanfic #charlie hunnam #Rio x ofc #epiphany x Rio

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sandwitchstories · 24 days ago

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Chance Encounter- Part 3: Epiphany

Part 3 of Chance Encounter was totally and completely unplanned, but here it is! I hope you enjoy it!

To read this fic on AO3 please click here!

Sukuna returns from a trip with Kenjaku to find out reader has been ill. The morning after a night of passion with his spouse, Sukuna has an epiphany.

(Better if you have read part one and two, but this can be read as a stand alone one shot. This is the backstory for Reader x Sukuna in my AU)

Part 1: Curiosity can be found here: Tumblr or AO3

Part 2: Serendipity can be found here: Tumblr or AO3

WC: 3100

CW: MDNI, Smut, AFAB reader, AFAB terms used to describe reader's naughty bits, creampie, oral f!receiving, true form Sukuna, four armed Sukuna, two <redacted> Sukuna (iykyk), vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, anal sex, fingingering, Sukuna's tummy mouth is absolutely its own warning, pregnancy mentioned at the very end, mentioned morning sickness but not described

Divider by: @anitalenia

You smiled as Sukuna filled you in on the details of his most recent jaunt with Kenjaku while he undressed in the privacy of your joint room. Honestly, you couldn’t care less about the leech known as Kenjaku, but you could spend hours listening to Sukuna speak about anything.

You loved the way he spoke and the sound of his voice. He spoke with an elegance one would not expect. You had once asked him about that and he had replied with something along the lines of just because others think you are trash does not make it true and that one should always hold themselves to the highest standards.

Your mind wandered to the past and you took a moment to reflect on it. That day in the market, when you decided to come home with him, had been the first day of the rest of your life and you hadn’t even known it. Coming back to this estate with him that day was the best decision you had ever made.

The first time you saw him, that chance encounter, would always be etched within your mind. He was beautiful, and you had wanted to have him for the night. And then that night turned into many more. Now three years later you sat here, married, and basking in the glow of the life you were building together.

Sukuna interrupted your thoughts with a sudden statement in a stern tone. “I am concerned.”

“About what, my love?” You asked as you lounged naked in bed watching your husband disrobe. Sukuna was just so damn beautiful. At 7’3” made of solid, bulging muscles with 4 arms, he was an imposing sight. But every single inch of that man was carved perfection to you. You couldn’t wait for him to slide into these silk sheets next to you To climb on top of him and-

“Uraume told me you were vomiting the whole time I was gone,” Sukuna looked at you over his shoulder.

“They are such a busy body,” You huffed and crossed your arms.

“So you have been,” he removed his kimono and threw it over the bamboo changing partition before turning back to you, hands on his hips. “What ails you?”

“I’m fine,” you smiled at him. “Now, hurry up. Get naked and get over here. Your wife has missed you.”

He arched an eyebrow at you, “Are you feeling ill currently?”

“No, far, far from it,” you bit your lip and unabashedly ran your eyes over his form. That was your man. Your territory. Your beloved. Your everything.

He hummed at you, eyes narrowing and head tilting back slightly as he decided if he believed you. You knew exactly how to derail his thought process and stop his line of questioning. You slid the crimson sheets off of you as you rose to sit facing him on your knees. His eyes hungrily took in your nude form, pausing on your breasts before going lower. You parted your thighs as his gaze drifted lower. His belly mouth licked its lips and you knew you had him right where you wanted him.

“Tell me. How much did you miss me?”

“I would much rather show you. Come. Here.” You crooked yer finger at him, beckoning him to move towards you.

“Show me then.” He chuckled at your pouty face. “Aw… What’s the matter, precious one? Can’t show me from here?”

“Not the way I want to,” you gave him an even more exaggerated pout with your plump bottom lip as low as it could go.

“And what is it that you want to show me?”

“All the things I have been missing and dreaming of while I was left here all by my lonesome.”

“Don’t be dramatic. Uraume was here.” One of his large hands moved to cup his hardening cock through his pants. “Tell me about these things you missed so much.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat as your eyes followed the movements of his hand on his cock. Well, two can play that game. You moved to be sitting with your legs stretched out in front of you. You ran your hands down your body to cup your breasts, staring at him as you squeezed them. “I’ve dreamed of how much I missed your hands on my body, touching my skin.”

“Keep going.”

You bit your lip as you toyed with your nipples, pulling on them as they hardened. One hand drifted lower down your stomach. You watched all 4 of his eyes following your hand, making you clench around nothing but your own longing. You braced on one hand as you brought your knees up and placed your feet on the bed, spreading your legs wide open for him. You stopped with your hand on your lower stomach.

“I did not say to stop, did I?” he asked, his voice taking on a tone that made molten lava pool between your thighs.

You slid your hand lower, sliding your fingers through your slick lips, moaning softly as your fingers brushed over your throbbing pearl. You closed your eyes as you slid two fingers into your cunt, pumping several times. Your head leaned back just slightly as pleasure started coursing through your veins. “My fingers don’t feel nearly as good as yours or your cock.”

“I don’t doubt that,” he said with a snide chuckle.

You opened your eyes, fingers still slowly, just barely pumping. You moaned softly at how hard you could see he was by the twin tents in his pants he was palming. “Why must you keep me waiting?”

“You’re the one stalling, brat. You know what I want.,” he said, pulling his pants low enough to free his cock and balls. “Show me how you get yourself off when I am not here. Let me see you cum for me, precious one. And then I will make all of our dreams come true.”

“Our dreams? Have you dreamed of me too while you were away?” You asked, fingers smearing your slick up and down your pussy. “Did you miss me, Sukuna?”

“Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to.”

“I just like to hear it,” you bit your lip and rocked on your fingers before using your fingers to spread your soaked cunt open to his gaze. “Can’t you see how badly I need you? How wet I am for you?”

“Oh, I can. But I told you what to do to end this. Now, be a good little kitten and cum for me.” His eyes watched your hands as he stroked himself, his thumb smearing the pre across the tip. He decided to take a little bit of pity on you, merely because he was tired of your game and wanted to be buried balls deep inside of you already. “Cum for me so I can give you my cock. So I can fuck everyhold on that beautiful body that belongs to me. Cum for me so I can show you how much I missed you as well.”

His words along with frenzied strokes of your clit sent you over the edge. You cried out his name, throwing your head back as you came. You hadn’t finished riding your high before he was on you. One hand braced by your head. The lower two grabbed your legs behind your knees, spreading you wide and rolling your hips back so he had unfettered aspect to your pretty little cunt. The final hand gripped your chin, forcing you to hold his gaze as he shoved his belly tongue into your dripping hole.

He grinned as you cried out again, louder this time, another orgasm slamming into you as you pulsed and throbbed on his large tongue. “That’s it, precious one. That’s it.”

Your hands buried in his hair, pulling him down into a passionate frenzied kiss as his belly tongue still licked, prodded, and swirled inside of you, devouring every single drop of your essence he could. Sukuna dominated the kiss from the start as he always did. One of his hands quickly gathered both of your hands and pressed them into the bed above your head, shackled by his grip. The hand that had been on your chin quickly replaced the tongue in your cunt. He wasted not a second on slow and tender. His finger thrust into you over and over again, making you cry out and arch your back as much as you could.

“So wet for me,” he growled, adding a second finger.

“Please,” You begged, trying to move against his fingers even with your thighs held open and pinned.

He removed his hand from your pussy, sucking his fingers clean and groaning softly at your flavor. He shoved his fingers back into your pussy, pumping and circling the long thing digits several times before pulling them out and bringing them to your lips. You opened your mouth, taking in the digits and sucking them clean, never breaking eye contact. His little pervert.

“Make sure to leave some spit,” he said, leaning down to suck a mark onto your neck, grazing the skin with his teeth.

You did as he asked, moaning as his tongue replaced his fingers in your mouth. You shivered as you felt the fingers covered in your spit start teasing the tight muscle of your ass. His finger circling and dipping in a teasing manner before working it into you.

Even though he broke the kiss, he easily kept you too occupied to focus on the discomfort as he worked you open for him. The giant tongue on his stomach was doing things inside of you that you couldn’t even try to comprehend. All you could do was writhe in pleasure beneath him. A trembling, whimpering, mess.

Your orgasm came on suddenly and violently, making your whole body tense and arch before pleasure flooded your veins. You looked up at him with eyes clouded in pleasure and longing. “Please, Suk. Please. Need to feel you inside me.”

“You look so beautiful when you beg for my cocks,” Sukuna said, leaning down to kiss you again before sitting back on his haunches, eyes fixed between your legs.

He gripped his cock, gathering your cream on the tip before pressing into you. The fingers still holding you spread for him tensed and he bit his lip at the feel of your hot, velvet tunnel welcoming him home.

He held your gaze as he rocked, feeding you more and more of his cock. Inch by thick inch. While he was not in the mood for the slow shit tonight, he was not going to hurt the one he loved by slamming balls deep into you in one thrust. He was aware of his size, and he wanted you to feel nothing but pleasure. He never wanted you to feel anything negative associated with his touch.

You let out a soft groan as he bottomed out. “You feel so good.”

He leaned over and pressed kisses to your forehead and cheeks, gentle kisses and nips trailing down your neck to your shoulder. Sweet kisses on your lips while he tucked hair behind your ear. His large hands let your thighs relax and gently massaged the muscles.

This gentle side of him was reserved for you and you alone. You relished the soft caresses from every one of his hands on your body. His teeth began sinking deeper into your flesh and you could feel his nails sharpening just enough to have a slight sting when they pressed in as his grip tightened. He ground his hips against you and you knew the, always short lived, sweet side of him had reached its end.

“Let me know when you’re ready and I’ll make you feel even better.”

Your heart sped up in anticipation and your pussy and ass clenched around his thick lengths. You nipped his bottom lip, pulling on it and letting it bounce back. “Show me how much you missed me, Suk.”

His mouth captured yours and his tongue shoved between your lips demanding entrance as his hips started to move, pulling out a little more each time until he was pulling all the way out and shoving himself all the way back in. Sukuna was filling every part of you at once and your body felt like lightening was spreading like wildfire, coming alive for him.

Sukuna broke the kiss. The hand pinning your wrists tightened and he yanked you back into the cradle of his lap, the nails of two hands biting into the skin of your hips. The third hand wrapped loosely around your throat, applying just enough pressure to be aware of its presence and make a shiver run down your spine.

He smirked down into your cock drunk face with a lazy smirk that reminded you of a large cat taunting its prey. His hand tightened just a little as his hips picked up speed. “Did I dream of you? Did I miss you? What foolish questions those were. I’ll just have to fuck you, ruin you, until you understand you never have to ask such pathetic questions again, precious one.”

“So you did,” you smirked, moaning when he gave a sharp thrust in return, both cocks thumping deep inside of you.

He began thrusting harder and faster, taking pleasure in the way your tight little cunt squeezed and fluttered around one cock and your ass fit so snug and warm around the other. The tongue on his belly dove down to give your bundle of nerves a seat before diving in to feast, making you cry out loudly in pleasure and over stimulation.

“I did, precious one, I did.”

Sukuna awoke to a god awful sound. “So you are still feeling like shit.”

“I wasn’t last night,” you quipped back, resting your forehead against your arm as it braced on the rim of the wash bucket you had grabbed to be sick in. You knelt on the floor not far from the bed, trying to summon any strength you had left. You took some slow deep breaths before you sat up. You wobbled a little as you stood, head pounding from the vomiting.

Sukuna scooped you up in his arms and laid you back down in your bed. He glared daggers at you as he knelt on one knee on the bed, leaning over you. His annoyance was plain as day. You could see the unvoiced questions being launched as almost accusations in his mind.

He was probably thinking about how you could use RCT or soul eating to heal yourself. He was probably thinking about how he could use RCT to heal and you hadn’t asked. Hell, even Uraume could have helped you. He was undoubtedly confused and frustrated by why you hadn’t gotten treatment but you knew more than anything he just wanted you to feel better, even if he would most likely never voice it.

He pressed his palm to your stomach and used his RCT to flood your body with the positive energy to heal you. He felt the warmth spreading from his hand. Except it shot back at him. He grunted and closed his eyes, focusing his senses more to snuff out the issue. He froze. His eyes shot open and locked with yours as he had an epiphany.

“I’m not sick, Sukuna and you cannot heal me,” you said, cupping his cheek. You gave him a teary eyed smile as your thumbs traced the line of his jaw. You pulled his head down to kiss his lips gently three times before resting your foreheads together as you spoke, hands still lovingly holding the back of his head. “I’m pregnant, Suk. You’re going to be such a wonderful father.”

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raining-tulips · 8 months ago

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Destiny 2 Deck of Whispers Oracle/Tarot Card Meanings

For those that play destiny 2 and bought the deck of whispers, and were wanting to use it in oracle and tarot readings, I have tried my best to create some meanings to attach to the cards based on the game's lore. I have only played d2 for a few years, but my bf whose played since the dawn of d1 helped me out.

Of course, these are just my interpretations based on the game and my expierence in the spiritual community. Feel free to add your own, share an idea in a comment, etc.

I The sisters - femininity, power in three, three, Hecate, the non-nurturing mother but the protective one, knowledge, partnership, family, sacrifice, transformation, growth, regrowth, starting over, hatred

II The witch - Savathun, lies, deception, cunning, trickery, buried honesty or honesty hidden in riddles, riddles, confusion, trust vs. untrusting, getting what you want, manipulation, taking what you want, dark mother, cost of change, cost of growth

III The adherent - (these are dedicated snipers) focus, dedication, aiming, all for a particular goal. Tunnel vision. Setting your mind to something, rigidity, stubbornness, inaction, stagnation. Goal setting, productivity.

IV The harbinger - Eris Morn, witchy, magic, prophecy, foresight, divination, knowledge, sacred, divinity, mediums and mediumship, listening for signs and messages, similiar to the judgement card, announcements. Vengeance, justice, fighting for what's right.

V Blades - sword logic, control, what you are willing to do to feed someone/something, are you balancing between give/take, death, death of self, war, aggression, internal hunger, gnawing hunger/gnawing desire

VI Lacuna - void. Gravity, time, distortion, manifestation, emptiness, nothingness, and thus infinite possibility, death, negation, the unknown. Safety in the unknown. Pause. Invisibility, moving without being seen, keeping secrets for good reasons.

VII Liminal - arc. Electricity, shocking, wake-up calls, unexpected, static, messages through the air, sudden realizations and epiphanies, things clicking into place, inner knowledge, intuition. Change is inevitable and needed.

VIII Ascension - solar, fire element and everything associated with fire. Passion, energy, movement, anger, creativity, power, fortitude, inner child, children (think the sun and strength cards). Destruction and creation.

IX Lament - Oryx, Trans people and trans rights. Masculinity. Divine masculine. Absolute destruction. Feeling like you break everything. Hurt, pain, grief. How strong is your will? Are you being influenced by others? Defeating/breaking boundaries of outside influences. Freedom from chains. Terrible-truth. How knowledge changes you.

X The lie - the Witness telling Savathun the Traveler was bad, thus making them turn to the worm. Lies, deception, darkness, otherness, gossip, outside-influences, expectations, society, disagreements and disputes. Chaos. Relying too much on others, gullibility.

XI The Truth - The traveler chose the hive, unexpected decisions/consequences, deception, lies coming to light, moon tarot card, there is no correct path only results of choices, choices,

XII The Wish - Ahamkara, bargaining/trading, blend of light and dark balance- manipulate and use both. Unlimited possibilities, dreams coming true, love, uniqueness and creativity

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cowboy-robooty · 5 months ago

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sometimes i wish so badly i knew how to share the same epiphanies I experience to other people. I'm feeling this specifically about how I sincerely do believe that choosing to be just a little bit nicer when you can is important. and everybody knows that of course but what made me really feel it was when i read a giant reddit post describing the differences between the one punch man webcomic and serialization. it's crazy like saitama and genos are kinda just roommates in the webcomic they're just normal friends but in the serialized manga saigenos is so real like their relationship is deep and they NEED eachother and have made eachother better people just by being close together (auaghhhh look. no spoilers but if you know then you know) and i think both worlds are great in different ways of course but in that analysis i read a line that summed it up as "murata's world is one where everybody is just a little bit kinder". And reading that made everything click all of a sudden because if I lived in a world where everyone was just a little bit less nice then saigenos would never happen because one punch man probably would've never been serialized because murata wouldn't have extended his fanboying to ONE and then mob pyscho 100 would never have been made etc etc. and it's not like the world would end or anything; everybody who has been inspired by ONE's work would still be good at what they do I'm sure. But i dont think they'd be AS good as they are now without ONE's influence. And that's how everything would kind of be; fine, but just be a little bit worse. i think realizing that is what makes putting in the effort to just be a little more kind when you can worth it. I wish I could share this feeling with other people, but it's so hard to when everybody has different ways of communicating... legit what communicated this to me was a mf one punch man reddit post (that wasn't even trying to make me have a realization like this). It's easy to say all these things and logically understand them, but it's so difficult to share the feeling to other people.. I hope everybody will be able to feel this sentiment one day though. I guess in short, I just really dont want to live in the world where saigenos isn't real !!! #YAOIFOREVER

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re-x · 2 years ago

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Scene analysis: Two major epiphanies playing out in real time (3x06, 4x10)

I wanted to discuss two pivotal onscreen moments, where each time we see Ben experience an epiphany leading to a major life decision. One is from his second POV episode, 306, while the other from the series finale, 410.

First, let's start with 306 (gifs 1 to 5). This moment from 306 (a part of my favorite scene from season 3) was so significant because it was the first time Ben was able to express his true feelings to his dad. Ben had experienced a wakeup call earlier in the episode (his body breaking down on him). For Ben, being a workaholic used to be a badge of honor, one of the few ways that he could identify with his father (“I guess being a workaholic runs in the family,” he told Patty in 106). Perhaps even the only way he could one day make him proud, he thought. But not anymore.

In gif 2, Ben realized that he didn't want to blindly strive for "success", if it would mean living a miserable life. But even so, he was still unsure whether he wanted to share that with his dad (hence the hesitation we see in gif 3) In gif 5, Ben dropped his facade and decided to risk it, to tell his dad what he really felt in spite of his fear of rejection by his own father.

Now, let’s move on to 410, the series finale (gifs 6 to 10). The night before, Ben had flown from NYC to head straight to Nirmala’s wedding so he could confess his love for Devi, something that she reciprocated. What followed was a night of passionate and long-overdue lovemaking between the two of them. It was now the morning after.

At first (gif 6), we see Ben just enjoying the moment, basking in the afterglow of the night he spent with Devi, and staring into the eyes of the girl of his dreams (gif 7). But then (gif 8), Ben broke off the eye contact he’d been maintaining with her thus far, and appeared to be in a pensive mood all of a sudden. As if something had just clicked in his mind. Perhaps he realized how everything about the past night just felt right to him. Whatever it was, he looked Devi again, and seemed to have made up his mind. He then rose up to address her, looking determined. “Devi… I think we should be together.” *Music to her ears, I’m sure, as she had been waiting for him to say that for more than a year*.

Throughout both scenes, we saw Ben’s feelings and thought process (and their progression) playing out across his face and in his eyes. In the season 3 scene, we saw his hesitation, and yet in spite of all that, the determination to say what he thought for once. It was a pivotal moment for this character, without which none of the further growth he was to experience in season 4 would have been possible.

Needless to say, credit goes to Jaren Lewison for a revelatory performance, as well as to his giving screen partners Michael Badalucco (1999 Emmy winner) and Maitreyi Ramakrishnan.

#ben gross #jaren lewison #never have i ever #devi vishwakumar #maitreyi ramakrishnan #howard gross #michael badalucco #3x06 #4x10 #benvi #ben x devi #analysis

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goldengamer2500 · 2 months ago

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youtube

My theme would probably be the 3AM theme from Animal Crossing New Horizons. It's confusing but silly.

I mean I only realized that I might be trans slightly under a year ago by now, but honestly it wasn't much of a shock, it just... made sense.

I don't have that many "oh my god, I did/said this thing and I didn't think I was trans?!" since even as a child I was at least aware of the existence of trans people but I at the time I just didn't see it as something that was worth seeking out because "Well, I don't really feel like a man and I'm not interested in feeling like a man, but I also don't feel like a woman already so I cant be trans" (apparently that kind of circular logic is pretty common among unhatched eggs...)

To be honest I don't even know what clicked, I didn't go through anything traumatic, I didn't have a sudden epiphany, it just happened one day, probably while I was watching Onimai or something (which like, totally cis thing to immediately seek out and binge after hearing the name ONCE) and even then it was like "Wait, cis people don't think that it'd be fun to be the opposite gender? What do you mean most of them haven't even considered it or completely reject that possibility? I guess that makes sense... wait, does that mean I'm not cis?" and everything else just started coming naturally from there.

I still have my doubts every now and then and I still haven't come out of the closet but I've given my family (particularly my brother) so many hints that I'd be surprised if they didn't at least suspect it, so for now I'm just waiting for a good moment to bring it up.

It's not like i can do much else anyways since I'm a broke college student that still lives with their parents... knowing my parents I doubt that they would try to kick me out or something if i told them but I don't think that they'd be completely supportive either... and even if they were supportive I doubt we'd be able to afford HRT with our current financial situation so for now I'm just... existing, being openly trans on the internet and overtly trans in real life.

Hence the music. It's just, there, vibing in its own silly way.

Source

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pluviophile-imagines · 3 years ago

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Thought of the night is Shouto as that guy u never really thought abt before until suddenly it Clicks and you fall hard.

It’s not exactly that you think he’s not a catch—he’s handsome, you’d have to be blind not to see it, and rich and fairly nice. Compliments you a lot but is mostly quiet. He’s a friend of a friend so you can’t say you know him very well but you’re not entirely unfriendly. But one night you go out with your friend group and it somehow happens that the two of you are the odd men out, and you spend all that time with him.

The first thing you realize is that he’s actually really funny. The first little snide comment he makes is out of the corner of his mouth, for your ears alone, and it takes you by surprise so badly that you burst into laughter immediately. It only encourages him. Soon enough you come to expect it and recognize the signs—the slide of his eyes, the way he leans in so your attention is solely on him, the corner of his mouth the only hint that his words are less than polite.

The second thing you realize is that his gentlemanly behavior is very much not an act. Holding doors, lingering so you don’t get left behind, offering you his coat; it’s obvious, you think, when a man is only doing it out of obligation, or to impress. When you comment on this he only gives you a little smile and tells you that his mother raised him well.

And the third thing is less a realization and more that the other two make everything else all the more palpable. He is handsome—heart-meltingly so, when you think about it—and he is nice, to you anyway. Less boring now that he’s suddenly decided to let loose with you; still quiet but very decidedly not silent. He dresses well and he wears a nice cologne that isn’t overwhelming at all and he really is quite tall and well-built—it’s a shame he spends so much time with Deku and Dynamight and all those insanely bulky pros because it really does slim him down in comparison—now that you’re seeing him closely. Have you known all of this the whole time? Yes, but it’s all so much more palpable all of a sudden. You’re not so naïve that you don’t understand why.

And, perhaps more importantly, he’s been staring at your lips a lot, especially as the night is beginning to wind down. So maybe you’re not the only one who’s had an epiphany.

#pattering on the roof #char.🌧 todoroki #mine.🌧#months down the line once you’ve been dating for a while he drops the bomb that he’d been crushing on u for a while #and that little night alone was not happenstance #and he absolutely considers it your first date #GOD ON THAT TOPIC #no no wait not in the tags #I’ll make a separate post 🏃#it is about you not realizing you’ve been dating him this whole time KSNDKSBF if anyone wants to ask me abt it 👁👁

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fanficwriter01 · 3 years ago

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THEO X ELOISE FANFIC (Chapter 1)

Theo Sharpe could hardly breathe when the ever so eloquent lady from the Tons, Ms. Eloise Bridgerton left the room as the printer’s apprentice stood in the corner trying to hide away from her sight. He heard her mutter one last apology before the door closed with slow click. Sighing, he could feel an ache within his chest start to form. This was the first time he felt this kind of pain, like a part of him left and the rest longs for it to be complete again. Then again, the only person who recently left him was the lady with the brightest smile and brilliant mind he ever met. Maybe the lady stole something of his belongings.

Perhaps his heart…

Theo took a deep breath as he started to clean the rest of the crumpled papers and ink stains on the table behind the black printer. The evening was colder than usual since the fireplace could barely heat a small portion of the room. He looked up and saw his own reflection in the clear window. A man in his 20’s with ink stains in his old vest, his linen shirt was wrinkled and a flushed face stood and stared at him.

If it had been a perfect world, he would have been adorned with the best-looking vests and clothing. He would be able to progress his own studies or attend social events like balls. During the season, he could imagine himself in a ball with Ms. Bridgerton smiling beside him as he tries to challenge her with her witty remarks. Once he had the courage, he would ask for her hand and dance with her as they laugh and bicker for all the political ideas they could speak during the whole evening. His name would be written in her dance card multiple times, in an attempt to make sure that no other man would be able to dance with the lady who charmed him. In this world, he would be a gentleman instead of mere commoner, perfect for someone like her and the society’s rules.

Theo could recall their previous conversation wherein she admitted that she was thinking of him and he was the one she wanted to talk to most of the time. He could not help himself but smile at the memory. If he was truthful, that was the first time that a girl or a lady admitted something like that to him. He was never a fan of romance before he met her but just like the way he met her, in an instant, she became the grand subject of his thoughts and dreams.

With that in mind, a question popped in his mind…

Was he falling in love? Could it be the reason why he felt so broken with a mere lady is because he was finally in love?

The sudden epiphany made him recall a moment with his mother during her deathbed when he was about 10 years old. She had him promise during her remaining hours that he will always follow his passion and if it is love, it is better to do everything you can and fail than regret and wonder forevermore.

Was it really love or just a mere infatuation? Theo could not help but wonder. Truth to be told, he wanted to fight for her. He wanted to kiss her moments ago. He wanted to forever be a part of her circle. Being with her was like breathing for the first time after being underwater. It was sudden but needed by his body and soul. He loved her…

Then it was decided. Theo would do everything to be with her. All in the name of her promise to her dear mother. If the society would not accept someone like Theo Sharpe, a simple printer’s apprentice and a part of the working class; then he will do something he promised to himself that he will never do.

As he finishes cleaning the table, he went upstairs where he stood in front of his small cabinet. His hands tried to reach a small box underneath his neatly organized clothes. The box was an heirloom by her mother. It was not a fancy container, but it contained something that he promised to himself that he will never use. It is a part of him that he tried to forget as it was one of the reasons why his mother died during the early years of his childhood. With a clear mind and hopeful heart, he opened the box, and it contained a small emerald brooch and a letter with an address in the Tons. The brooch shines even in the dim light. It was a curse knowing the history of this item and his connection with it but he knew that if he wanted to be with Ms. Bridgerton, he has to accept it as it will be the key for the doors of Ton be opened for someone like him.

He will always be Theo Sharpe. He will always be the humble man who Ms. Bridgerton met as he organizes the load of pamphlets during that fateful morning. What he will do is just a way for him to be with her.

In her world…

With determination in his eyes and soul, he grabbed his jacket and coat. It seems that it might rain anytime soon but he doesn’t care. The fate of his relationship lies on the two items currently being safeguarded by his coat pocket. He closed the door with a loud thud and slowly ran towards the main road, towards to the place that the letter was addressed. He could remember her mother telling him that if he ever wants to face the destiny that he was supposed to have, he could always do it by going to the address and present the letter and brooch.

Theo ran once he could feel slight pour of the blackened sky. A sign that soon, heaven would shower the world with rain. He wondered if Ms. Bridgerton made it safe.

Is she currently in her haven called home?

Does she regret her decision to cut him off so that she could protect him?

Does she regretting meeting him or having an illicit affair with him?

These questions plaque him as he walked towards his destination. The rain started to pour heavily as he reached towards a house in the Tons. He could feel the cold rain almost through with his jacket. With a quick knock, he stood beside the safe spot away from the rain beside the door.

The door opened and a man in his 40’s stood in front to meet him. He looks tired with his baggy eyes and hunched back.

“Good evening, I am the butler of this mansion.” The man greets him, “May I know what business you are here for?”

“I’m here to meet the owner of this mansion.” Theo tells him. He quickly grabbed the emerald brooch that is in his pocket and shown it to the butler. The butler for a while was curious of the item but Theo saw his eyes widened with understanding of the meaning of the brooch. The butler began to make way for him to go inside.

“I understand” He says, “Please go ahead inside”.

With a nod, Theo walked inside the house, away from the cold rain. Once inside, he saw the grandeur house and could appreciate the beauty of it. Several paintings of well gentleman and ladies hung in walls. A few vases were placed in some corners of the room. A big staircase was in front of him leading upstairs with a big red carpet. Everything inside this house screams grand and money.

“The most honorable is currently in his study. Let me bring you to him.” The butler informs him as he led the way. They walked towards the right wing of the mansion, passing a lot of rooms and a big dining hall on the way. He was led to an open door at the end of the hallway. He saw an old man sitting in front of the fireplace reading a book in a big red chair. The butler knocked and mentioned his presence to the old man.

“Master” The butler calls him, “An important visitor would like to speak to you?”

An old voice could be heard in the room, “Is it really an important visitor? Almost everyone who drops by at this ungodly hour says its important, but it never is.”

With a sigh, he heard him tell the butler to bring Theo in.

The old man turned towards his direction and looked into him.

Theo saw shock in the Old Man’s face as he faces him. He gave him a curt nod and finally spoke.

“My name is Theodore Sharpe.” He says, “I’m the son of Martha Sharpe.”

With a heavy hand, he showed him the brooch and the letter. The old man was silent as he grabbed the brooch and the letter. As he slowly opened the old letter and read it, Theo could see that the gentleman right before him is slowly realizing his identity. He could recall himself questioning his late mother about their family tree. She answered him with vague statements or telling him that he was a product of pure love. During her last moments, she finally revealed the truth about his heritage.

Theo Sharpe was indeed a product of love. His father and mother loved him dearly before their demise. His father was a commoner who lived in the city dreaming of becoming a scholar. During his attempts to become a scholar in a university, he met the love of his life. A woman named Martha Waterford, the only daughter of the Marquess of Waterford. His mother told him that it was love at first sight as they share their interest with knowledge and literature. Since it was forbidden to fall in love with someone beneath your station, his mother and father decided to elope and leave everything behind to live as a commoner.

It was their choice. Their choice was love.

It is the same choice that their beloved son is doing right now.

“You’re her son.” The old man met his gaze.

“Yes”

The old man grabbed a cane which stood earlier beside the couch. He slowly stood up. Theo noticed that he was weak and as taught by her mother, he helped the poor man stand up by offering his hand. He was a bit taller than him but he could tell that during his prime years, the old man was once a gentleman with high honor and looks.

“I’m Sir George Waterford” He announced himself. “Welcome back… My grandson”

Theo smiled as he finally met his grandfather. If Ms. Eloise Briderton could not be with Theo Sharpe. He will have to do everything in his power even do something that he stated to himself that he will never do as all he wanted to have was a normal life. He will dare fate as he was not just Theo Sharpe.

He was the grandson of the Marquess of Waterford.

“Nice to finally meet you… Grandpa”

#bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #theo sharpe #theloise #theolise #eloise x theo #theo x eloise #fanfic

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alpacaparkaseok · 4 years ago

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Pairing: doctor!Jungkook x reader (ok, technically clinical technician!Jungkook lol)

Wordcount: 1.6k

Genre/Rating: Fluff! strangers to friends to a lil’ more 👀👀

Tags/Warnings: mentions blood just for a moment (when talking about JK’s work). shouldn’t be anything too crazy, Jungkook is just your annoying new neighbor that sings abnoxiously loud in the shower. oh, and did I mention that the two of you share a wall?

a/n: You wonderful, beautiful people! This post is a commission for the ARMY for AAPI Justice and Advocacy Event. Please click here to find more resources and consider donating to the cause! And THANK YOU @ezralia-writes for commissioning this! *insert round of applause and flowers* I hope you enjoy!

April 23rd

You should’ve known it was too good to be true.

You’d been living in utter bliss for the past six months, having moved across the city to a relatively quiet part of town. You had a neighbor; you were sure of it. Had seen their car in the parking lot too many times to not have one.

It’s just, you never heard them. Let alone saw them.

Which was completely fine. The loud, obnoxious lifestyle people usually adopted in a city as bustling as Seoul had never suited you anyway. For six months, you basked in the glorious silence from your next door neighbor. The only signal that you ever got that they were even there was the occasional time you’d both be showering at the same time. Your bathrooms shared a wall, which you tried to ignore. Thankfully, your neighbor seemed to ignore it as well.

So why is there a man suddenly belting out I Will Always Love You as though performing a one-man tribute to Whitney Houston?

The sound of his booming voice nearly knocked you off your feet as you made quick work of shaving your legs. Surely he must have heard your shower running! Can’t a woman get some peace and quiet on a Friday morning?! There’s nothing to celebrate yet!

You even make a point of clearing your throat loud enough to be heard on the other side of the wall, but he doesn’t falter in his loud, albeit dazzling, rendition of the song. He pauses for a second, giving you just enough time to let out a sigh of relief and begin on your other leg.

Leg soapy and ready to be shaved, you make it halfway through one swipe before the singing starts up again.

He only paused to switch songs. Whitney Houston tribute over, he begins a passionate ode to Adele’s greatest hits.

“What did I do to deserve this?” You sigh, resolving to finish up before the song is over and you’re subjected to another.

May 1st

It begins innocently enough. After a week of subjecting you to his siren-like voice, there’s a knock on your door. Of course, you assume it’s the food you’d ordered, so you just finish throwing your sweatshirt on before wrenching the door open.

“Hey,” you look up to tell the deliverer that you just need to grab your wallet, but your mouth runs dry at the sight before you.

Grinning with a friendly smile that might be a bit of overkill, a boy – nah, a whole man if we’re being honest here – gives you a sheepish wave. His long brown hair is falling into his eyes, which he meticulously brushes off to the side.

“Hey! You must be my neighbor!” When you keep staring at him with what you hope is a look of neutrality, he flushes a deep red. “I- er, I mean, obviously. That was kind of dumb of me…”

“You’re not the food guy?” It’s the only you can think to say, willing your eyes to focus in on his face and not the way his sweatshirt and sweats look on him. “Uh…I mean, yeah. Neighbors.”

The man before you lets out an adorable chuckle at your silly comment. “Oh, good. I’m not the only awkward one here.”

“Woah! I’m not awkward! I’m just hungry!” You cry out, making him only laugh harder.

“I’m Jungkook, by the way,” he says, nose crinkling as you look at him with wide eyes. So this is what was on the other side of the wall, belting out Mariah Carey this morning. “I just moved in last week, and realized that I haven’t even come over to say hello. You know, like a friendly neighbor should.”

“Hey, Jungkook.” You look around, wondering if there’s anyone else outside witnessing this incredibly awkward first meeting. “I, uh, well…I’m me.”

He snorts. “Yeah, I know. I’m assuming your name is the one on the mailbox? Next to mine?”

We have mailboxes??

“Oh, ha! Yeah, that’d be it.” You shuffle back and forth on your feet, unsure of what to say next. “Well, I thought you were the delivery service-“

“I just delivered food, too!” Jungkook says with a grin. He runs his hands up and down his arms even though it’s not cold outside. “I was thinking that…you know, we could eat together? I actually ended up ordering extra, but it looks like that wasn’t necessary.”

You grin, settling against your doorframe. “Ah, so you’re here to woo me with takeout? You should’ve just said so.”

It looks like Jungkook’s considering moving again. He swallows thickly, eyes flitting over to you before staring down at your floor. “Actually…I heard you watching TV…were you watching Wanda Vision?” When you nod, he sucks in a breath. “It’s just, I haven’t bought a TV yet, and-“

“Oh, tough luck. Good luck with that.” You burst out into a fit of giggles at the tentative look in his eyes. Silently forgiving him for all those mornings that doubled as musicals over the past week, you wing the door open a little wider and gesture for him to come inside. “Come in, I need someone to bounce theories off anyways.”

That’s all it takes before Jungkook is bounding inside, settling down on your couch with an air of comfortability that seems so at odds with his shy nature. Then again, everything about him seems to contradict his shy smile.

You like it.

June 2nd

What originally started as a simple friendship; Jungkook brought food and you let him have the remote; quickly turned into constant interaction. You learned that he had a roommate that was hardly ever home named Taehyung. He has a brother that he visits every other month. He works as clinical technician, but he’s known more for his beautiful voice more than his title as doctor.

Apparently he was known in the lab for singing little lullabies to the glass flasks containing different samples of blood and other fluids, even occasionally chatting with them as though they were avidly listening.

The more you learned, the more you really wished your old neighbor never moved out in the first place. Especially as you slipped on some shoes to take out the trash one night only to run face first into a familiar chest.

“Jungkook,” you groan, rubbing your nose and peeking up at the boy-like grin he wears. “What was that for?“

You step around him, closing the door to your apartment and heading down the stairs to where the dumpsters were located. “My bad. I was just about to knock.”

He matches your stride, hair whipping about in the wind. You realize that he’s wearing his lab coat, making you furrow your brows. “Aren’t you supposed to leave that at the lab?” You ask, pointing to the white coat.

Jungkook pouts, looking down at his coat as though just remembering that he was still wearing it. “Oh, well I have to wash it, you know. I brought it home with me today.”

“Ok…but why are you still wearing it?” You give him a half-smile as he reaches to open the lid to the dumpster, allow you to throw your trash inside.

Jungkook blinks, as though this latest question completely threw him for a loop. “Uh…I thought it might help.”

“With what?”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “You think doctors are sexy, don’t you?”

“What?!” You choke out quite literally, beginning to cough. “Who- I never said that!”

Jungkook grins maliciously. “Yeah, but I heard you watching Grey’s Anatomy the other day. And it was on your recently watched.”

You begin to walk away, waving him off. “That doesn’t mean anything, Jungkook. So what? It’s just a show.”

Running ahead of you, Jungkook bounds up the first few steps before turning around to face you again, effectively cutting off your escape route. “Be honest. You don’t find them the least bit sexy? This coat does nothing for you?” He runs his hands down the lapels for emphasis.

You attempt to push past him. “What is even happening today?” Jungkook stops you in your tracks, hands on your upper arms and trapping you against the railing.

“I thought I might as well give myself a chance,” he mumbles, head tilted to one side as he takes in the way you’re staring up at him with utter confusion. “Don’t you wanna go out with a doctor?”

You blink slowly. “You…you’re setting me up with a doc-“

“Yah!” Jungkook groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “How many way do I have to say it? I want you to be the Wanda to my Vision!” “Jungkook, we’ve talked about this…” you sigh, hiding your laugh at his impatience. “They have a toxic relationship, why would I want that?”

“Don’t make me do this!” Jungkook whines, cheeks turning pink. “Just tell me yes or no!”

“To what?” You ask, feigning ignorance. “I don’t even know what you’re asking.”

“Nooo, you do,” Jungkook presses in closer as though that’ll help you understand. “I want you and I to…to…you know, I think we’d be good together.”

You frown. “Aren’t we together right now?”

“I swear-“ Jungkook takes a step back, sighing up at the sky. You snap your fingers, having a sudden epiphany.

“Oh, you mean together like we start singing duets in the morning through the wall?”

He blinks before bursting out into a fit of laughter. “I…yeah! Exactly!”

“No. But I will let you take me out on a date.” You give him a long look. “I’ve never been kissed by a doctor before, you know.”

Jungkook turns an impressive shade of red. “O-oh. You haven’t?”

“Nope,” you pop the ‘p’. Turning to head up the stairs, you leave him in his shock. “Wonder what it’s like.”

Taking off in a run, you only get about a two second head start before Jungkook overtakes you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in close, wide eyes eating up every inch of your skin.

Tilting your chin up, he breathes out, “Well, why don’t we change that?”

masterlist

commission a request!

#jungkook x reader #doctor!jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook x y/n #bts x reader #bts oneshot #jungkook oneshot #Jeon Jungkook x reader #doctor!bts #bts neighbor au #bts as your neighbors #jungkook neighbor au #armyadvocatesaapi

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yoichichi · 3 years ago

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To Call You Mine

college!tsuki x reader series

Ch. 2 - ew, small talk

warning(s): Tsukishima’s behavior 😐

a/n: I’m happy you guys seemed to really enjoy the introductory chapter!! I hope you enjoy this one just as much, and more tsuki content!! Ahhh I’d love to hear your thoughts per usual, and enjoy !! <3

ch. 1

“So, why d-“

“Thanks for-“

Oh my god.

At this point you’d rather have a failing grade than have to keep talking to this guy.

Maybe it was just the fact you’ve felt like you’ve made a fool of yourself about 59 million times, but you were officially over it.

Tsuki leaned back into his chair with that same smirk he gave you earlier, raised eyebrows and all. You’re starting to wonder if that’s maybe just how his face rests.

“No no, go ahead. You first.” His voice was quiet and monotone, very appropriate for the setting, not so much for your nerves.

The way he held himself was, interesting. You know it’s only been maybe 5 minutes since you’ve met which is most definitely not enough time to start making any kind of assumptions about a person, but with the air around him so tense and serious, how could you not?

You could see his legs were just slightly spread in his seat, as far as it would allow it. And instead of doing the casual thing and resting his head in his hand while he waited for you to speak, it was tilted just slightly upward. Chin just barely jutting out at you, head leaning to the left just a tad. His forearms rested on the arms of the chair rather than the table, too.

Everything about his body language said, go on, I’m waiting for you to answer me. Rather than, go ahead, I’m listening.

It made your nerves congregate in your throat and made it difficult for you to speak.

He does not need to be making me this nervous.

You fiddled with the clicker of your pen as you began to speak, doing your best to keep your nervous fidgeting to a minimum. There should be no reason he should have such a knack for making you feel this way, he’s a random guy who takes your same calculus class. Regardless of the way he seems to carry himself, he’s nothing more than that. Some guy.

Besides, he probably wasn’t doing it on purpose. He just has one of those, faces.

“I was just gonna say thanks for agreeing to help me out. Even if it is so early.” You chuckled lightly and brought your hands up to rest on the top of the table.

Enough fidgeting.

“You’re welcome.” Another monotone reply.

You smiled thinly as you waited for him to continue his sentence, cause surely he wasn’t done.

….

Really?

You sat in another few moments of silence while he sighed and looked down at the open pages of his textbook, unable to tell if he was being serious.

“Alright. Why don’t we start with talking about the last lesson you felt most confident in understanding, okay?”

He was being serious.

“Yeah, sure.” You sighed and took a glance down at your notes.

A long hour indeed.

—

It hasn’t even been 20 minutes, yet you’re already starting to get a better grasp on bits of the material you couldn’t even begin to comprehend just a few hours earlier. It certainly isn’t enough to be rid of a tutor, but enough to know you were referred to him for a reason.

Maybe his aloof attitude was worth it.

“Well, that explains why I couldn’t get the numbers to plug in right on that next weird step of the equation. And why it looked so funky when I tried to illustrate the graph. God, that’s a lot.” You stated matter of factly, dumbfounded at how easy he was making this all seem.

“Go ahead and try these other problems from the back of the book, and then we’ll go over what you get after. And if you get stuck just ask. I’m gonna work on some other homework in the meantime.”

His voice had more lilt to it now. Maybe it was because his own version of morning grogginess had warn off. Or he could’ve been just as nervous as you at first. Regardless, you appreciate he seems to be less stiff than when you first percieved him.

You nodded your head and immediately got to work. Having a sudden epiphany about the content was definitely a boost to your motivation to get it done.

He chuckled softly to himself at your eagerness and got started on his own work.

It was nice, actually.

The next few minutes were quiet, but they weren’t awkward. The pair of you having your own focus on the work at hand, merely keeping each other company at this point with the soft scribbles of pencil against paper. That was until you had a question of course.

You looked up to ask him a question but almost felt bad for interrupting him, you could tell he was really focused.

His head was turned downward slightly making his glasses slide farther down the bridge of his nose. His fingers, which you noticed were slightly scuffed up, looked like they were gripping his pen so delicately no matter how fast he was writing. Your eyes followed the trail from his hand up to his shoulder, past the tendons twitching in his forearms at each flick of his wrist, and past his lean yet distinctly toned bicep.

Your gaze stopped on his shoulder when his other hand reached over to squeeze at the apparently tender spot, watching him roll it a few times before he leaned back down to write some more.

His jaw seemed tight, maybe he was having a tough time with this particular class he was working on. Or maybe it was because he appeared to be sore from, something. Taking in his physique and condition of his hands, you decided it wouldn’t be surprising if a sport was what was straini-

“Are you stuck?”

Your eyes shot over just a bit to look directly at his face, realizing you were staring and he probably assumed you needed help, which technically you did.

He was looking up at you above the top of the frame of his glasses and through his eyelashes, eyes just slightly wider than usual as he waited for you to answer.

You had to admit, he was a pretty guy.

“Yeah, kinda. This integral just isn’t clicking for me, I don’t really know where to start.” You held your stare on his face as he leaned in closer to reach over and flip your notebook around, taking a peek at your work thus far.

He hummed almost silently to himself before he spoke up, realizing what was confusing you.

Hm, he smells kind of minty. But not toothpaste minty more like, organic clean minty. Or maybe that’s eucalyptus I’m smelling? I wonder if it’s a cologne or if he just showered before he got here. Jesus, how early would he have to get up to shower before he got here? Cause his hair wasn’t even wet when - well, was it? I could’ve mis-

“Make sense?”

You blinked once, hard, as you internally chastised yourself for being a bit of a creep as you sat analyzing his smell rather than listen to what he had to say.

Nodding your head you stared back down at your paper, contemplating how you were gonna pretend to do better with an equation you didn’t even know where to begin.

“Oh, thank you for agreeing to meet so early, by the way.”

His words caught you off guard as you looked up to see his nose still buried in his work, but his mouth moving.

“I have a team practice in a couple hours and I’m already tutoring someone else afterwards, and this was the only free time I had before your next class.” He looked up at you and offered the tiniest of smiles.

So he did do a sport.

“What do you play?” You asked, genuinely intrigued to know the answer.

His height definitely made him look like a basketball kind of guy, no, you’d know if he played basketball. Maybe soccer.

“Oh, I’m on the volleyball team.” His hand kept its steady pace at writing down notes in his notebook, not even sparing you a glance when he answered.

“Oh wow. How long have you been playing?” You rested your head in your hand, patiently waiting for his response. It was nice to talk about something besides math for a little bit.

“Mmm, I’ve been playing for a good amount of time. This is my first year on the team though, so not long with them I guess. Do you play any sports?” He set his pen down now, rolling his neck out with his eyes closed, leaning back in his chair and waiting for your response this time.

“No, I don’t. My boyfriend plays basketball, though.”

His eyes opened and locked onto yours for a brief moment before looking back down onto that god forbidden work. It was silent for just a second, an unexplainable tension quietly passing between the two of you, so fast you almost missed it, before you spoke up again.

“He’s a sophomore though, so, a little more familiar with his team you could say.” You smile fondly and let out a small chuckle, doing your best to keep the flow of the conversation going,

“He-“

“Hm, nice.” He let out a deep breath and gingerly placed a hand on your notebook, as if he was unaware he cut you off just now, and continued to speak.

Maybe this wasn’t the time for getting to know each other, then.

“Let’s take a look at what you’ve gotten done so far, yeah?”

—

It’s been three days since you last had your first meeting with Tsuki, you hadn’t seen each other since, and yet somehow he was still working you to pieces.

He’d text you around dinner time each day since then like clockwork, just one word:

- ‘Studying?’

- ‘Yes Tsukishima.’

- ‘Good job.’

And it’d be the same thing in the mornings:

- ‘Study guide treat you well?’

- ‘Lol yes Tsukishima. It was actually really helpful so ty :)’

- ‘👍🏼’

I mean, he hand made you study guides to use. And enough of them so that they would last you till he met back up with you on the following Sunday.

It was like he knew you’d feel bad if you didn’t use them and study. But you’d be lying if you said they weren’t helping. You were walking through the door to said class now, and actually feeling semi confident as you sat at your desk and pulled out your belongings, and you had Tsukishima to thank for that.

You noticed it was quiet today as you waited for class to start. October slump was definitely hitting your fellow peers hard, that and the weather. Even your professor was quiet as he walked in and prepared the lesson.

Feeling fatigued and bored yourself, you pulled your phone out to pass the time when you noticed you had a text from Tsukishima still sitting on your lockscreen. It must be pretty recent.

Hm, that’s odd.

Tsukishima

‘Good luck in class today. I hope it all makes a little more sense. :).’

…

A smiley face?

You shut your phone off quickly and shoved it back into your pocket, not particularly fond of the way your heart swelled just the slightest at the fact he texted you.

And remembered you had class today.

And texted you a smiley face at that.

Hm. Looks like he’s warming up to me.

————————

OKOK DONT YELL AT ME AKEKEKE I’m currently writing chapter 3 already ok 😭 i feel like this is kind of short but it just felt weird to do another transition for what I wanted to write rather than just doing a whole chapter and yeah - MIND UR BUSINESS OK I KNOW WHERE IM GOING WITH THIS. Anywayyysss Ahhhh I hope this fed yall well heheheh and you know I love your thoughts and stuff :3 !! MWAH

taglist for series: @plutowrites @c0rncheez @ruetaro @daniagabriela48 @toyas-wife @devilkou @anime-and-kpop-trash (if you’d like to be added or removed let me know!)

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#hq <3 #haikyu x reader #tsukishima headcanons #tsukishima hcs #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima imagine #tsukishima x reader #hq tsukishima #haikyuu tsukishima #tsukishima x y/n #tsukishima kei #tsukishima fanfiction #tsukishima x you #OK IM GOING TO BED NOW HEHEHEHE

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let-them-read-fics · 4 years ago

Text

Yours Truly (Pt. 2)

Requested By: Some of you!

Pairing: Jisoo x Fem!Reader

AU: College

Word Count: Part 1 -> 9,786 // Part 2 -> 7,433

Warnings / Misc. -- Angst, Pining, Fluff

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Here's the second and final part of the imagine, gang. I hope you enjoy the adventures I wrote for you! Let me know about your fav part(s)!

♡ Happy Reading ♡

Part 1 -- Click Here

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

5.) Epiphanies

A Week Later

"Yuqi, why the hell did you drag me here? I'd so much rather be writing…" you shove your hands further into the pockets of your hoodie and look at her with a scowl. Rows of people fill the bleachers around you, everyone excited for the football game that's scheduled to start soon. Happy couples sit together all around the stadium, and the sight only works to remind you of how weird things are with Jisoo right now.

"One: it's a Friday night and you need to let loose, and two: I wanted to come, so you have to tag along by default. The rules of friendship are very simple, Y/N," she trails off, tilting her head at you with a smile.

"Well I am gonna go get some food," you imitate her, "Do you want anything?" You stand from the bench and look down at her, noticing how her permed hair sticks up in a few different places. You smooth it out for her as she answers, "Nachos, please."

"Alright, dork. I'm sure the line's kinda long, but come look for me if I'm not back in 20." She pats your butt as you leave, and you just shake your head with a smile.

"--I know! Did you hear about Lee's new girlfriend? I heard she got in a fight with his ex last ni--"

"I'm fucking starving bro."

"Yeah, they totally hooked up at Jackson's party!"

Various conversations work their way to your ears as you walk towards the back of the line, but you attempt to not get too invested in the gossip. As welcoming as your school tends to be, even it has its fair share of scandals and drama. You've never been one to care about rumors though, and you don't plan to start now.

"I heard that Jisoo likes someone."

Funny how plans can change in an instant, don't you think?

You can't find it in yourself to ignore the childish desire to eavesdrop, so you listen in as the line slowly shifts forward with each new customer served, doing your best to be inconspicuous.

"Supposedly she's been into them for a while but they don't know about it. I guess Lisa is planning to get them together tonight or something, I don't know." You recognize the brunette speaking as Seulgi, a dance major that you share a couple classes with. She's talking to Yeri, whom you've seen a few times in passing.

That must be why she was defensive about the kiss; she has feelings for someone else.

"Ooh, that'll be interesting. I can't say that I'm not disappointed, though; now Jisoo's gonna be off the market." The shorter girl frowns, basically reading your mind with her statement. You've never fooled yourself into believing you have a chance with Jisoo, but knowing that she'll be whisked away by some lucky classmate of yours definitely isn't an easy pill to swallow.

You pass the remaining wait time by imagining who that person may be. Jisoo has a lot of friends, but you've never seen her around campus with any particular love interest; she always puts her studies first, deciding that her education is far more important than any potential relationship.

You remain lost in your thoughts until it's your turn to order.

"Hey Y/N, what can I get for you?" The cashier greets, resetting the register as she grins at you.

"Hi Yeji," you smile back, happy to see your old friend again after what feels like forever. Your busy schedules have kept you from hanging out much lately, but seeing her now is something you're grateful for. "I'll take two waters, a medium nacho, and 1 hot dog, please."

"You want everything on it?" She asks in reference to your last request, assuming you still stick with the order you used to go with in your childhood.

"You know it. And make sure to--"

"--spread the toppings out well. I remember, girl." She says with a wink, turning around to get started on your order. The familiar interaction warms your heart, aided by the idea that some things never change. After she packages your things up in a convenient little container, you thank her and pay, walking away with a promise to meet up at the school's café next week.

About halfway back to your seat, something unexpected happens.

"Rosie, we can't buy out the whole place. This is the 4th trip we've taken back here and the game hasn't even started yet!" You freeze as you round the corner, almost dropping your food as Jisoo's low voice sounds off nearby.

"Unnie, I didn't even get to eat much of the other stuff at all! Lisa and Jennie stole it and shared it with everyone else," the artist pouts, rolling her hands into fists at her sides like a toddler.

"Fine. But this is the last trip I'm taking." She warns, rolling her eyes when the Australian attacks her with a flurry of kisses. "Yah! Let's go before we miss something." She says, pushing her off of her with a smile on her face.

Even her voice makes your heart ache, and it reminds you of what her kiss felt like against your lips. It was short, no doubt, and barely there; but the sparks remain, waiting to be reignited anytime she's around. Maybe you're just destined to pine.

----

"There you are! I was literally about to go steal some food from Shuhua because you were taking so long."

"Yeah, yeah," you say, sitting down beside Yuqi with the cardboard box in your hands. "You're lucky I love you enough to pay for this. Now I'll have to survive on 3 grains of rice and ramen for the next few weeks."

"Oh, the struggles of being a broke college student." She says woefully, clutching her hands together in front of her chest to add to the effect.

"Precisely," you agree, scooting closer to offer her some nachos. When she tries to greedily take the whole tray of them, you're quick to stop her.

"Ah, ah, ah," you warn, pulling her wrist back down. "We're sharing, chica." She huffs, but eventually settles down and decides to shove her face full instead of protesting anymore.

Now, with your best friend happily eating, you relax and begin to prepare yourself for the match.

"LET'S GO!" You shout with Yuqi, chanting together as your school's anthem echoes throughout the stadium. The rival team has been behind the entire game, but they closed the gap in the last few minutes and now it's neck and neck. Your band plays loudly to encourage your team, and it seems to be working; they manage to repeatedly hold the others off and keep them from scoring.

It's the start of the fourth quarter now -- the home stretch. With their spirits still high, your team continues to keep victory out of their opponents hands. The black paint underneath their eyes is really streaked now, showing all the effort and sweat that they've put into the game so far. A beautiful sunset just previously gave way to a rapidly darkening evening sky, allowing some stars to peek out now.

"My high school team sucked; this is epic!" Yuqi says, making you laugh. You tear your eyes away from the heated game to say something to her, but all thoughts soon disappear from your mind and you stop mid-sentence.

She notices your sudden silence and looks at you, only realizing what's happening once she follows your line of sight. Jeong is standing against the metal fence that borders the track, mingling with everyone at the bottom of the bleachers. That doesn't bother you, but what you see next certainly does; you spot Jisoo beside him, giggling at something he said as he tucks a piece of hair behind her ear.

"Oh shit," Yuqi breathes out, fully grasping the weight of the situation now. She doesn't even attempt to give him the benefit of the doubt, because he knows how in love you are with Jisoo and yet there he is, flirting away. He's the only other person besides Yuqi who knows of your feelings for the brunette, and you really trusted him with it. Clearly that was a mistake. You blink a few times and set your jaw, quickly looking away as he moves closer to whisper something in her ear over the noise of the crowd.

"I'm gonna head out to the car. Just let me know who wins," you mumble, brushing past her on your way toward the exit. You know there's no way you'd be able to focus on the game anymore after seeing that, so going is your best option. She catches your arm before you can slip away, and says, "Wait, I'm coming with you. And don't even try to tell me no; I can always watch highlights later. I'm not gonna let you be alone right now."

Knowing it's pointless to argue anymore, you nod once and wait for her to gather up her trash and coat. "Let's go," she says, taking your hand after tossing her garbage in the can conveniently placed at the end of your row. She squeezes it a few times for reassurance, and a bittersweet smile works onto your lips at the gesture.

You don't notice how Jisoo's eyes follow you, every fiber of her being yelling at her to go after you. She hates seeing you sad, and although she isn't 100% sure of the reason for it now, all she wants is to cheer you up.

"So, Jisoo. Do you have any plans after the game?" Jeong smirks, quirking a brow suggestively at his own question. Jisoo grimaces, saying, "Yeah, I do. I have to study." She tries to find you in the crowd again, but it seems that you've already slipped away.

"We're throwing a party tonight, you should come." He leans a little closer to her, but she takes a step back. The only reason she's even talking to him right now is because Lisa introduced them, and it would be impolite not to. She turns him down, yet again sneaking a glance around the stadium.

"No wonder Y/N's too chicken to ask you out; you're hard to get, but I don't mind a challenge." Her head whips around at his statement, heart regaining that familiar uptick at the mention of you. "What?" She blinks, not believing her ears. Surely she was just hearing things.

"I said I don't mind a challenge," his words come out slightly slurred, and the effects of the alcohol he's been drinking are beginning to show themselves in all the wrong ways. The more he talks, the less Jisoo can stand him. "Look, Jeong -- I'm not interested. I'm sure there are other girls here that would love to get to know you, but I'm not one of them. Now, if you'll excuse me," she says, turning her body to the side to maneuver around him and get to the stairs. He lets her go without another word, his pride too bruised to come up with a more fitting response than a muttered insult.

She makes quick work of getting to the parking lot, where she spots you approaching Yuqi's car, head hanging a bit. Seeing you upset saddens her, and she's determined to find out what's wrong.

"Y/N! Wait up!" The shout catches your attention, and you slowly spin around. Jisoo begins to jog out to you, and a scoff slips past your lips (though you don't put much effort into stopping it). You're hurt, and half of the reason for your pain is staring right back at you like nothing happened.

"What do you want, Jisoo?" You sigh, not looking forward to where this conversation will most certainly go.

"I want to talk, Y/N." She's in front of you now, scanning her eyes between yours to gauge your reaction.

"What is there to say? Just go back to talking to Jeong; you looked like you were enjoying yourself." She can hear the jealousy laced in your tone, and things finally -- finally -- begin to click for her.

"Is that what this is about?" She asks in reference to your sadness. The question isn't accusatory at all; she's genuinely trying to piece things together.

A disbelieving laugh leaves you at that. How is she still so oblivious? "Yes, Jisoo, it is. I just had to witness someone who I thought was my friend flirt with my crush. So yeah, that's what this is about." Sensing that she doesn't know what to say, you decide to conclude things for her. This is already pitiful enough, and you'd rather spare the both of you from having the "it's not you, it's me" talk.

"Look, I get it. You don't like me back, and you were only trying to be friendly by inviting me to the rehearsal that night. Just please, for the both of us, forget it even happened. Forget all of this. It was a mistake, and I won't do it again."

Jisoo hates that you're jumping to conclusions without even knowing her true feelings; you automatically think that she couldn't possibly feel the same, and you use her moment of silence as a form of evidence to prove that. The complete opposite is true, though you'd never give her enough time to straighten out her jumbled thoughts and tell you that.

She finds her voice when you turn away, and she reaches out to touch your hand. "Stop, you've got it all wrong." Your eyes glance down to your intertwined hands, but you wiggle out of her grip with a heavy sigh. Over your shoulder, you shakily say, "You don't have to pretend for me, Jisoo. I'll be alright. If he makes you happy, then so be it."

With that, you get in Yuqi's car and tell her to drive away, leaving Jisoo to deal with the sinking feeling in her chest that worsens as the car's tail lights grow dimmer and dimmer in the distance. You're gone, and she really has no idea how to come back from this.

6.) Broken Hearted

The next few weeks were hell. You avoided Jisoo as much as possible, too embarrassed to face her after what happened and too weak to be close to her again. You'd surely fall even harder if you allowed yourself to grow any closer, so you didn't take the risk. How could you? Falling alone isn't an enjoyable experience, and you've been teetering on the edge of no return ever since that afternoon at the daycare.

It was hard enough to escape her hold -- her face was everywhere, plastered on ads and bulletin boards all throughout campus, on reminders and sign ups for student council. You used your sick days in order to hide away in your dorm and block out the world, only being comforted by Ryujin when she wasn't busy with her own life or Yuqi when she could spare a few hours. They always made sure to care for you as much as they could, knowing first hand how tough heartbreak can be -- especially with the added stress of schoolwork.

One person you thought about often was Jeong. Every time he'd cross your mind, dirtying up your brainwaves with the mere notion of himself, you'd grimace. He didn't deserve the attention, and yet you couldn't help but question why he did that to you. He hadn't reached out since that night, likely due to Yuqi giving him a piece of her mind after the game. He made it clear that he wasn't sorry, and that if given the chance, he'd play his cards even better and hopefully score a date with Jisoo.

Maybe that was the worst part of it all. Hearing that it hadn't just been a stupid thing he did because he was drunk; he realized the weight of his actions, and he'd do it again, over and over, without caring about how you fit into the equation. That football game was simply a turning point, hidden in plain sight as an unassuming night for you to hang out with Yuqi. But you learned more then than you had ever intended to; Jeong's selfish, and he probably never even cared for you in the first place. The idea of that makes you feel dirty -- like you wasted so much of your time with such a horrible person, sticking up for him and defending his name when he wasn't around when he never even deserved that in the first place. You wish you would've known who he really was back then; you would've stayed away.

Unbeknownst to you, Jisoo was struggling much like you -- minus the whole "betrayed by a best friend" situation. Every time that she showed up in class, she hoped with every piece of herself that you'd walk through the door and grace the room with your presence. You seldom ever did, though -- but when you ran out of free days of absence and were forced to attend class in order to keep your grades up, you never even uttered a word to her. She'd make it a point to ask questions in class, hoping that hearing her voice would bring something out of you, as yours did to her. She longed to talk to you again, if only for a minute; but your resolve remained strong, and her determination grew weaker as the days went by.

Being the person she is, though, she knew giving up wasn't an option. After a few weeks of that cycle, greeting stands were placed at the front doors of each complex on campus, manned by different members of the council. She came up with a story for the administration on the fly, using her people skills to convince them that it would be good for student morale and getting more people to join clubs. It was a great effort, but she underestimated your avoidance skills; you thwarted her plans again, slipping right through her strategically linked fingers.

Eventually, she lost hope. She exhausted every option she knew to try, and the girls ran out of new ones as well. Seeing their unnie so upset saddened them, and they did all they could to cheer her up in any and every way they knew how.

7.) Premiere Night

"Y/N, get up. You're gonna shower and get dressed if I have to force you to do it myself." Yuqi commands, blasting into your room and flipping on the overhead light that shines far too bright for your liking.

"Mmm," you groan in protest, not even bothering to roll over.

"I mean it; don't test me, you know I'm true to my word."

"Why, Yuqi?"

"Because we're going to the performance tonight. The big show that everyone has been going on about is premiering, and you're coming with me to see it."

"I can't do that." You say, her words sobering you up from your sleepy stupor.

"I know who the lead is," she informs, already knowing about your reasons for being hesitant, "and that's precisely why we're going. You can't keep living like this, so either go get your girl, or agree to be friends with her and work past what you're dealing with."

"You sound like a mom at the end of an 80s movie."

"80s movie moms are valid, so I'll take that as a compliment. Now go!" She shouts, shoving you off the bed. You tumble to the floor in a heap of blankets and pillows, still managing to hit your funny bone as you let out a pained groan.

"Remind me to slap her later, Ryujin."

"Will do." She salutes, reaching a hand down to help you up. With one last glare at an annoyingly bubbly Yuqi, you head to the bathroom to shower.

----

"How do I look?" You ask, looking yourself up and down in the skinny mirror attached to the wall.

"Is it gay if I say I'd ask you out?" Yuqi asks with a smile, fanning herself animatedly when you strike a pose.

"Very much so, yes."

"Well, hand me the rainbow suspenders, then."

You push her over with a laugh -- the first real one you've shared in a while -- and wrap her in a hug.

"Thank you, for real. I don't know where I'd be if I didn't have you." You say against her shoulder, pulling back to look at your roommate and add, "Either of you." The three of you settle in for a group hug and tell a few more jokes before Yuqi finally drags you out of the dorm.

----

"How does it feel to be back in society?" Yuqi whispers, leaning in close to you to read the seat numbers printed on your tickets.

"As lame as ever." You add, amusingly unenthused.

"You're never gonna convince Jisoo to date your dumbass with that attitude." She retorts, feeling a little guilty when she sees your expression change upon hearing her name. You're afraid to see where the two of you will stand at the end of the night, so saying it's still a sore subject is the understatement of the year.

"I'm messing with you, dude. If she doesn't want to be with you, then it's her loss; but I highly doubt that's the case. I've heard she misses you a lot." For once, Yuqi's words are halfway encouraging to hear, and you let out a light smile.

"Well I'm prepared to worry about that whole situation later. For now, let's find our seats and enjoy the show." Your best friend quickly agrees, and the two of you squeeze through the crowds in the aisles to get to your row.

----

"Jisoo, I promise you'll do well. You've been practicing for months; you've got this," Soo-hyun says, rubbing his co-lead's back in reassuring circles. The certainty in his deep voice gives Jisoo some semblance of security, and she stands to look at him with one final, nervous sigh. Stage fright has never been this big of an issue for her, but the size of the crowd and the idea that you might be out there scare the hell out of her. She wants you to be there with all of her heart, but she doesn't know if she'll be able to handle watching you walk away again. The past few weeks have been torture, and she misses your presence and witty remarks more than she ever thought possible.

"Thank you, Soo-hyun. I'll meet you out there in a couple minutes, just let me collect myself."

He nods and says, "Take your time. I'll let Mrs. Choi know," before leaving and shutting the door behind himself. Now alone again, Jisoo digs through her personal bag that lays neatly on the small futon of the dressing room. When her fingers come in contact with that familiar material she's spent hours staring at, she bites the inside of her cheek and unfolds it for the millionth time. Multiple poems and blurbs litter the page, accompanied by cute doodles and cartoons here and there that give it a personal feel. She's spent the time away from you methodically working through the different writings, restraining herself from reading all of them in one setting so that she can have new content from time to time.

She's down to the last one, now, and a surprising sort of realization hits her when she reads it. It instills within her a sense of determination -- determination to get you back and set things right, one way or another. She makes a plan to find you after the performance.

-- After The Performance --

It was even more spectacular than you ever imagined it could be. The school spared no expense in getting the best props, employing the most skilled technicians on hand, and recruiting the best artists that the school had to paint the backdrops. Everyone behind the scenes worked tirelessly to produce the best show possible, and their efforts really paid off.

And, of course, you can't forget the actors.

The entire cast was incredible, their talent matching some of the world's most sought-after stars. Every part was played to perfection; even the smaller, supporting roles were acted with passion, really bringing the piece together as a whole. The production left you wanting more, too inspired and awestruck by the amazing performances to be content with just seeing it once. So, after numerous calls for an encore, the cast returned to run through a few of their key scenes.

---

As the cast takes their final bow, large cannons placed on either side of the stage shoot out bursts of colorful confetti, and you watch it flutter down around them. Some try to catch a piece or two to add to their scrapbooks, wanting to have a trinket from their college years, while others just hug each other and twirl around with content smiles on their faces. The crowd continues its loud cheering, and eventually you find the courage to sneak a glance at Jisoo.

To your surprise, she's looking right back.

Her eyes hold a mixed softness; she's proud of herself and glad that you came to support her on such a big night, but part of her wants to escape the busyness of it all and tell you everything she's been feeling. She'd be content with looking at you forever, she realizes, as she studies you. You're the true star in her eyes, always shining so bright and making everyone feel at home whenever they're around you. She hopes you know how special you are.

Mrs. Choi approaches the cast from stage right, gathering their attention to congratulate them and commend them for their performances. Jisoo reluctantly looks away from you, unsure if it's the last time she'll be seeing you tonight. The thought upsets her, but there isn't much she can do about it right now; so, she gives her attention to her professor and flashes that smile that makes everyone weak in the knees.

You knew it was just a matter of time before she'd be pulled away and immersed in some conversation about the show, but the selfish side of you never wanted her to look away. No matter how confusing things may be because of all of your unresolved issues, she still looks at you like she always had before -- her gaze is kind, albeit bittersweet, but it's full of care. Seeing her like that makes you feel like even more of an asshole than you already do -- maybe you should have just listened to her at the game. Running away was an immature choice, rooted entirely in your own sadness in that moment as you deprived yourself of any explanation she could've offered, though you can't judge yourself too harshly. The situation is complicated, and you still don't know whether to hate yourself for running or go easy on yourself in light of what happened.

When Yuqi sees you stand up and shuffle towards the end of your row, she sends you a warning look.

"Dude, I'm not gonna run away. I'm literally just gonna step outside for some fresh air, I promise." She visibly relaxes, no longer having to prepare herself to wrangle you back into the seat.

"Fine. But if you aren't back in 15 minutes I'm coming to track you down. You really need to talk to her."

You sigh, nodding in agreement. "I know, trust me. Just let me get my thoughts together first." She sends you off to do just that, but not until the two of you complete the special handshake you made up all those months ago.

---

Brisk air rushes over your skin in waves the moment you exit the side door of the building, automatically sending goosebumps to raise in its wake. It feels nice, though; it grounds you, and works to cool off your heated skin. The atmosphere inside was thick with the tension you've been feeling ever since what happened that night at the game, and its effects were only heightened by the raw performances of the evening. Passion and longing were the driving factors of the play, ironically, and many of the scenes drew eerie parallels to your current situation. So, it's no wonder that you're thankful to step away from it all for a bit.

You greet a few stray audience members that're puttering around outside as well, opting to walk down a little further away from them and lean against the building. The wall's brick material feels rough against your back, lightly scratching it whenever you shift your weight from one foot to the other. You don't mind it, though; it's oddly nostalgic, somehow.

When you hear the door open again, you think nothing of it. The metal hinges latch just the same as they had for you, so there's really no reason for you to even look up. However, that all changes when you feel someone's eyes on you.

Unprepared is leaps and bounds away from being a fitting statement to describe how you feel in that moment; Jisoo stands merely 10 feet away from you at most, right next to the stage door that she just came out of. Her hands fiddle with the drawstrings of her costume, seemingly always needing to be occupied when she's nervous or unsure of herself; it's a habit you've picked up on after seeing it so many times.

The longer you look at her, the more you want to look away; she's so beautiful it hurts, and the silence is eating away at you. You can't blame her, though; neither of you know what to say or do, and the only thing you seem capable of is staring at each other. When you break the intense eye contact you were sharing to turn away, only intending to take a minute to collect yourself, Jisoo is suddenly set in motion.

She's afraid you'll leave again, and she's prepared to fight even harder for you this time.

I love you as the stars love the night sky

A fateful, cyclic romance

A game of eager greetings and reluctant goodbyes

Those words -- ones that you remember penning one day in class while completely entranced by Jisoo -- roll from her lips effortlessly, as if she had spent time committing them to memory. She had, in fact; whenever days passed without her even catching a glimpse of you, she always found herself unfolding that note again, tracing a finger over the curve of your unique letters as she reread the poem. It always brought her comfort to think that you were in just as deep as her, and a similar sense of hope blossoms in her chest now when she spots an unbelieving smile tug at the corner of your lips as you slowly turn to face her again.

You're still into her, and she's falling even deeper at the realization. Maybe she didn't lose you after all.

She takes calculated steps towards you and breathes a sigh of relief when you stay put, not showing any signs of running. The wheels in your head are going into overdrive now, turning and churning as you process her little recital, and she prays with all of her heart that you won't be upset once you put two and two together.

"How did you…"

"You dropped it one day, and I picked it up. I meant to give it back to you, but I guess I just never got around to it." She feels a little guilty for keeping it as long as she has, but it's served as a way of keeping you close during your time apart. Those bits and pieces of you, scattered around on that page, encapsulated by the annotations and doodles you so kindly left behind, have stayed in her heart. Ever since she discovered it all that time ago, it's never been very far from her; she cherishes it more than you'll ever know.

"You didn't show it to anyone, right?" Your voice is laced with worry, lowered a bit to keep others from overhearing.

"No, no! Of course not. I just… kept it for myself. You're really talented; I couldn't stop reading your stuff."

"Thank, I guess?" You awkwardly chuckle, still a bit rusty on how to interact with her after everything. Plus, to be fair, having your crush read one of the love letters you wrote about her is a bit unheard of. Newfound territory, you think to yourself.

"How long?" You ask after a minute of silence, only realizing how loaded your question is after it slips past your lips, turning into a puff of steam in the chilly atmosphere. "How long have you… felt that way about me?" You quickly add, "Assuming that you feel what the poem says, of course."

An amused smile tweaks her lips at how cute you are. "I do, Y/N. I always have; ever since that afternoon at the daycare."

"Really?" The question is quiet, full of childlike disbelief.

"Really. It was always you." She says it freely now: unafraid.

The sentiment is sweet, but memories of the football game come flooding back and you're reminded that as much as you want to skip this next part, you still have things to discuss.

"What about Jeong?"

"What about him?"

"Did you ever like him?"

"No. The girls thought so, but it was just a misunderstanding. That's why Lisa introduced us at the game; she thought I had a crush on him, but I told her that you were always the one I was looking at. I told all of the girls that, after that night."

Her confession renders you speechless -- only capable of listening and nodding every now and then. She takes advantage of your silence to finally explain herself and tell you everything she's been dying to.

"I didn't know you felt the same until our talk in the parking lot. I mean, I was hopeful after some of the moments we had, but I didn't know for sure until then. I wanted to beg you to stay and hear me out, but you left before I had the chance."

You blink a few times as the reality of her words begin to sink in. "I had no idea…"

"Yeah, well…" she trails off, unsure of what to say next. She's forgiven you for walking away, knowing you were just hurt, but the whole situation still left a bad taste in her mouth. So much pain could've been avoided for the both of you if you had just listened.

"How did they take it?"

"They yelled at me for waiting so long to tell them, but then they tried to help me get you back. Remember those student council booths?" She leans in a little closer to ask that last line, her lips pulling to the side in that iconic smirk of hers.

You audibly gasp and point at her animatedly. "I knew that was you!"

"Mhm, pulled some fancy-sounding excuse out of my ass to convince the board, and boom; 20 brand new tables set up the next day. I still can't believe you managed to slip past them, though. I mean, c'mon, have you seen how talkative those kids can be?"

"Trust me, it wasn't easy," you laugh with her. "I had to sneak to the back entrances like a drug dealer."

"I can totally see that."

"I'm dedicated, what can I say?" The stupid hair flip you do makes her laugh even harder, clutching her stomach as those beautiful sounds slip past her lips.

As your shared laughter eventually turns into soft chuckles, she smiles at you, saying, "I really missed this. I missed you, so so much."

"I've been a wreck without you, Jisoo. It's honestly embarrassing."

She looks at you with something new shining in her eyes, and she carefully contemplates what she's about to admit. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Of course."

"I rarely cry, Y/N, but I did over you. So you have no reason to be embarrassed. It seems like both of us were pretty bad off." She looks down after saying that, scuffing her foot against the concrete of the sidewalk. Being vulnerable isn't usually easy for her, and she never really lets people see that side of her -- not even the girls. She feels like she has to stay strong for them to keep things running smoothly, but she fails to realize how important her own feelings are. You're different, though; she feels like her entire collection of secrets would be safe with you, and you make her feel secure enough to be open like that.

When she feels you step closer and hook two fingers underneath her chin, her eyes dart up to yours and her heart speeds up. Your other arm hesitantly wraps around her waist, giving her plenty of time to step away and deny you. You've spent so much time convincing yourself that she couldn't possibly want someone like you that you're genuinely surprised when she steps further into your embrace, pulling your arm tighter around herself.

Her right arm comes to rest loosely on your shoulder as her other hand caresses your forearm, rubbing various patterns against your smooth skin. "I tried so hard to get you to pick up on my flirting," she starts, playing with the baby hairs at the nape of your neck as she holds you close. "Every touch," she runs a finger down your arm, leaving a trail of electricity in its wake. "Every look," she moves her hand from your neck to your cheek, cupping it sweetly as she gazes into your eyes. She strokes your skin with the pad of her thumb, smiling beautifully when she feels you nuzzle into her hold even more.

"And that kiss…" she says, sounding breathless at the mere thought of it. "I wanted it to last forever."

"Why didn't you tell me that, then?" You ask, not even a trace of anger in your tone. You're determined to let go of all the hurt and fear that your misunderstandings have caused, opting instead to finally get the answers you've wanted for so long. "After I came back from putting Aera to bed you were just… different. And then when you said it was just a part of the script--"

"I know. I was afraid that if I let myself have you like that -- if I let you in all the way -- there'd be no going back." When she sees the confusion building in your eyes, she continues on. "I don't usually let myself get distracted; I can't afford it. You know how seriously I take my studies." You nod, recalling the numerous times you've found her in the library until it closed, studying hard for the exams everyone knew she'd ace. "But you wiggled your way past every line of defense I ever put up. You became my favorite distraction." A dopey grin tugs at your lips at receiving that title, and you subconsciously hold your head a little higher.

"But I wasn't prepared for that. You make me feel things that I've never felt before, and I really didn't think I could afford to let myself have you. Not fully, anyway. I could deal with a crush; I told myself I could keep you close enough that I wouldn't miss you, but far enough that I could keep myself protected."

"What changed?" You ask, smoothing your hands over the small of her back, feeling the heat radiate from her skin. They've worked their way under the hem of her shirt during your conversation, subconsciously seeking to share her warmth, and Jisoo has been acutely aware of it the entire time.

"When I saw you walk away like that I didn't know what to do with myself. I've had people leave before, so it's not a new thing; but I never missed them like I've missed you."

A bittersweet, melancholic look settles on your face at that; she deserves every good thing that the world has to offer, so knowing that you played a part in her sadness -- whether it be direct or indirect -- disheartens you a bit.

"But you're here now, and that's all that matters." She says, leaning her forehead against yours.

"And I'm not going anywhere," you affirm, holding her even closer than before. She brushes her nose against yours with a quiet sigh, relieved to be in your arms, caught safely in your warm embrace. If falling feels like this, she's more than okay with it.

"Can I?" You ask, glancing down to the heart shaped pillows you've dreamt of having against yours again.

She nods, uttering a soft, "Please", as she tilts her head to the side in expectancy. You close the remaining distance, bending your knees slightly to tighten your hold on her waist and pull her flush up against yourself. Both of her arms wrap around your neck now, occasionally coming down to tilt your head and allow her better access, or run her fingers through your hair. It's sensual and meaningful, but an air of urgency hangs in the air, thickening it the longer her lips are on you. Both of you are making up for lost time, so it's no wonder you're so eager.

She takes your bottom lip between her teeth as she backs you up, pressing you against the brick wall that you had migrated a few steps away from during your conversation. If she were kissing anyone else, perhaps she'd care about the strangers staring, or what they might say; but as she stands here, feeling your hands explore her body in the ways that she's dreamed of and your lips kiss her senseless, that's the furthest thought from her mind. Her hands grab at the collar of your shirt, balling the material up in her palms as she pushes her lips against yours from a new angle.

When you eventually pull back for air, you can't help but say the phrase that's been sitting on your mind for weeks. "I love you."

Her heart speeds up to match yours, both of them racing as you look at each other with giant smiles on your faces. "I love you, too. If you hadn't already guessed that," she chuckles, leaning up to kiss you again. This one's more innocent, though -- full of giddiness as you replay each other's declaration in your minds.

"Y/N L/N IF YOU AREN'T OUT HERE--"

Yuqi bellows loudly, blasting through the side door and out into the chilly night air. The metal smacks against the wall from the force she exerted, and you physically cringe at the sound. Jisoo does the same, quickly pulling away to find out what's going on.

When Yuqi's line of sight settles on the two of you, her eyebrows raise and a smirk lands on her lips. "Well, well, well. Looks like my work here is done," she says, cocking her head to the side self-assuredly when she sees how swollen both of your lips are and how mussed your clothing is. You send her a look that she registers as "Get lost", and she retreats back into the performance hall with her hands raised in surrender.

"Idiot," you mutter under your breath, shaking your head as you watch the door close behind her, its poor hinges still recovering from her assault. Jisoo's giggle makes you turn back to her, finding a breathtaking smile forming on her lips. "You're so cute," she coos, poking your cheek, "especially when you blush like that."

You fight the bashfulness that attempts to take over, managing to cock a brow at her and say, "Hey, watch it -- I might not be so kind in my next poem if you don't stop teasing me."

"Aww, don't be like that, baby."

She tenses up after realizing she let that pet name slip out at the end, but your smile only widens.

"Say that again."

"Baby," she drawls in her signature sultry tone, stepping closer to you again.

"Mmm, I could get used to that." You hum against her lips, pressing yours to them at the end of your statement.

"Good, because there's more where that came from."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mhm," she settles into your arms again, looking into your eyes with so much love you nearly swoon. "This is only the beginning for us."

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what-even-is-thiss · 4 years ago

Note

How did you know you were trans nonbinary? From some one who is afab but might be questioning their gender.

I’ve never fully been able to answer this truthfully I think. The narrative that I tell my family is that a friend of mine from church came out when I was 12 and then I just knew but it’s really more complicated than that.

For me my whole experience being queer, every aspect of it, has just been one long slow burn. I never had an epiphany. I was just exposed to a variety of ideas and over time I slowly shifted and tweaked my perception until I figured out where I stand as far as labels go.

I think I’ve always known there was something different about me or that I was pretending to be someone I wasn’t. I just didn’t really have the language to explain why. And once I did slowly acquire the vocabulary I needed things started to move slowly into place. Nothing ever really “clicked” for me I think. Except for when I realized that I was gay. For the most part I just over time kind of settled into the knowledge that this is what I was and then I found the right words to attach to it.

I really took my time. I incorporated masculine clothes into my wardrobe slowly. I moved through my feelings about being trans slowly. I came out to everyone in my life, including myself, slowly. My life doesn’t really have a before and after when it comes to figuring out that I was trans or even a clear cut before and after I came out as trans.

Why am I trans? How do I know that? I can’t really tell you. It’s just a fact about myself that I realized as I got older. One that caused me a lot of stress maybe, but still a fact. Like how I came to realize over time that my favorite color was blue or that I want to leave my hometown or that I am a happier person when I’m apart of a religious community.

For me, being a genderfluid man just... makes sense. And being a woman doesn’t make sense. The more I move towards what I think I’m supposed to be, the more my life just makes sense. It doesn’t necessarily make me happier, though it is easier for me to be happy now. I just know because everything makes more sense when I’m living as a guy.

I know that’s not really a satisfying answer but like... that’s it. I never came out to myself. I never had an aha moment. I just slowly moved along a gradient from girly girl to who I actually am. It was a really slow gradient that probably started when I was about five and, I’d say, still isn’t over. I’m still figuring out stuff about myself. How exactly I want to express my gender, what surgeries I want, how and if I want my body and gender to factor into my relationships.

A lot of folks just always know. A lot of folks have a sudden moment of realization. I didn’t. I doubt I ever will.

#roman said a thing #trans stuff #transmasc

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an-aura-about-you · 2 years ago

Text

September 19th, 1997

Crossing the Bridge

Somewhere Else Under the King

An eventful night where all is revealed:

He stands in his library when they arrive, his back to the door. He fixes his coat, old but still a perfect fit all these years later. He looks up at the portrait of Wilbur and reaches out his hand, delicately touching the bottom of the frame.

“Jackson?” Martin calls when the three enter.

Trilby sucks in a gasp as epiphany suddenly hits him, stomach churning with disgust at not realizing it sooner.

Jon looks to Trilby before turning forward, standing with Martin.

Their host takes his hand away from the portrait and turns to face them.

“I have a confession to make,” he says. “I’m not descended from Jack Frehorn.”

The three are silent as the words sink in, Trilby grimacing while Jon and Martin wear their sudden shock as if they had been slapped in the face with it. The pieces are all there, have been there since it was set in blood in 1778 and ink in 1779, and the truth of their terrible whole clicks into place for each of them.

Martin speaks up first. “How? How?! Jack Frehorn lived in the 1700s!”

“And when did he die?” Jack softly challenges.

No one has an answer, at least not with words. Trilby instinctively puts himself between Jack and the others, pointing his grolly at him.

Jack sighs. “I understand if you don’t trust me, but I don’t mean harm to any of you.”

“As it turns out, I’m not exactly inclined to believe you,” Trilby growls, but he does lower his grolly a bit.

“To be fair, it’s not like we haven’t seen something like this before,” Jon points out, his voice shaking.

“The same situation as the Tall Man,” Trilby adds.

Jack looks at Trilby, aghast. “Good lord, I hope never to become like Cabadath. Being in the service of the King is one thing, but being his Prince?”

“But how did this happen, Jack?” Martin asks.

Jack gasps and puts a hand to his mouth, eyes bright with tears. “I’m sorry,” he says, choked. “I didn’t realize how much I wanted to hear you call me by my real name.” He takes a moment to collect himself. “It’s actually pretty simple: I was foolish enough to beg for my life from a being who doesn’t feed on death but pain. It didn’t exactly take long into the two centuries and then some I’ve been alive since then for me to realize how much of a mistake that was. I think the only thing that’s kept me sane over all this time is the idea that I would actually see my favorite prophecy come to pass.” He holds his hand out towards them. “And here you are. The Lovers have crossed the bridge.”

“That really was us?” Jon asks, looking to Martin and back to Jack. “That was us the whole time?”

“You knew that was us?” Martin adds.

“They are the Lovers?” Trilby joins in, not expecting to hear the confirmation.

Jack picks up a book from the table that holds the case, his scriptures from so long ago. “Clearly, you must have suspected once you read the Book of the Bridge. And I imagine you already knew you were the Guide, Trilby.”

“I remember being told something like that,” Trilby responds coldly.

Jack lets the book fall open in his hands, turning a few pages to get to the part he wants. “Of everything I ever wrote for the Order of the Blessed Agonies, the part I loved most was the part they often left out. Probably because it’s the one prophecy I wrote that had the closest thing to a happy ending I could write, the Lovers’ Bridge.” He then reads aloud, “'When the Tower fell, the Lovers were astonished to find a Bridge before them, the Bridge built from the Agonies of their Bodies, their Minds, and their Souls. Together, they crossed the Bridge over the Dark Ocean, the Unfathomable Sea, and on the King’s Day they found themselves in a new land. The Guide was waiting for them there. He saw the Lovers’ Bridge of Body, Mind, and Soul, and he knew what it was.'” He looks up at Trilby. “Do you know what it is? What it means?”

Trilby grimly nods his head, lowering his grolly completely and his hands shaking. “Anyone can make a bridge,” he answers, resigned.

“And anyone can cross it,” Jack says, nodding.

Trilby claws his hands up his face, dropping his grolly and knocking his hat off as he does. “Is there any point to what I’m doing, then? I- we won’t be able to stop every bridge.”

“And you won’t be able to stop the one that will be created by the complete destruction of John DeFoe, but that doesn’t mean your choices don’t matter.” Jack closes the book in his hands and sets it back on the table. “Think about it. As far as I know, you haven’t destroyed the Soul yet. If you had, that would change the time of the bridge. You’re still choosing when the bridge will be completed. That’s going to determine who or what is able to cross it. It might mean letting in a demon like Cabadath, but it could also mean safe passage for others like Martin and Jon.”

“Does that go for us, too?” Jon asks. “Were Martin and I always going to be the Lovers, whether we wanted to be or not?”

Jack huffs a laugh. “You surely know better than I would that there are others who are aligned with Beholding and Forsaken. It was your choices that led to you becoming the Lovers, just as it was Trilby’s choices that led to him becoming the Cunning Thief and, as a result, the Guide.”

“How were they even able to cross the Ethereal Realm without being consumed by Chzo?” Trilby asks, hollow.

“That was because of us,” Jack tells him. “I may have left the cult, but ever since I wrote the prophecy of the Lovers’ Bridge, I have observed July 28th, the day the line between the World of Technology and the World of Magick is thin enough that the King can look upon us. If there was any chance I could keep the King’s eye on me and not them, I had to take it. If I had to be alive anyway, then I had to see this one prophecy come true. And after I had completed this year’s agonies, as soon as I saw Martin in my garden, I knew he must have been one of the Lovers, guessed right then and there that he was the Lonely Lover whose agonies matched mine.”

Trilby glowers and goes, “And I got pulled into it because one of your loonies stabbed me?!”

“That was against my wishes,” Jack snaps. “I fully intended to find both the Lonely Lover and the Watchful Lover. In spite of the way he is worshipped and his nonlinear relationship with time, the King is not a god. He is still a beast, and his eye can’t focus on everything at once. My pain drew his eye when Martin completed his crossing, but Jon must have taken longer.” He turns to Jon at this point. “I imagine that’s due to the King taking his eye back from you. He is something of a cannibal. We should all be grateful that Trilby’s pain drew his eye before he could fully consume you or, failing that, before you ended up in the far-flung past or future compared to Martin.”

Jon grasps onto the easier part to comprehend, not wanting to linger on the idea of being trapped in an entirely different era or consumed by a pain entity. “Wait, Chzo ate the Eye?!”

“He can do that?!” Martin asks.

“Is it really that surprising?” Jack asks. “He does feed off of pain.”

Jon puts a hand to his forehead and barks out a laugh. “The Eye is a fear entity, though.”

Jack gives him a briefly puzzled look. “Jon, fear is pain.”

Martin takes Jon’s hand, needing the affirmation that he’s actually here, that Jack’s words were only possibilities that didn’t happen, grateful beyond belief when Jon squeezes his hand back so tight.

Trilby swallows before asking, “Why bring us here for all of this? What do you want, Jack?”

Jack meets his eyes. “Do you know what you’re going to do with John DeFoe’s soul?”

Trilby makes a quick inhale, but then he slowly blows it out and nods.

“Then what I want now is for the pain to be over,” he answers. “I can’t die of natural causes, and I haven’t been able to kill myself, but I suspect that I can be killed.” He turns to the table, his back to them and blocking his actions from view, and palms something. When he turns back, the black case is open. He steps towards the three, around Trilby and towards Jon. In a flash, he takes Jon’s right hand and presses the handle of a knife in his palm. “And I want Jon to do it.”

Jon only just manages to keep hold of the knife in his surprise. Jack takes a step back so everyone can see it, the blade serrated and notched in such a way at the end that it somewhat resembles the teeth of a key.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Martin says, arms out. “Let’s stop and think before we do this!”

“Do we even know what that knife is?” Trilby goes, his hands up defensively.

“It’s my knife, blessed by the King’s magick,” Jack explains. “Normally, when a person dies, the body decays and the mind and soul drift apart, lose themselves. But when a person is killed with my knife, the body dies but the mind and soul remain united, still a whole being. The one caveat is that person’s mind and soul are then in the control of the person who killed them.”

“Why me, then?” Jon asks.

“Isn’t it obvious? If I see myself mirrored in the Lonely Lover, the Watchful Lover would be Wilbur’s equivalent. Avenge him. Kill his killer. Then reunite us once more.” Jack gently places his hands on Jon’s, lifts them so the knife is pointing at his heart, and then lets his hold drop away. “Please, Jon.”

“Jon?” Martin asks.

“Did you only call us here for this?” Trilby presses Jack. “Just to make Jon into a killer?”

Jack barks out a bitter laugh. “Don’t give me that. No one here has clean hands.”

“That’s not the same as me being able to do it now,” Jon softly protests.

“You understand that it’d be a mercy killing, right?” Jack tells him.

“I do,” Jon says.

“You don’t have to do anything, Jon,” Trilby says.

Jon stares down at the knife in his hand, unwilling to meet Jack’s eyes. God, the knife is so heavy. He can’t remember a knife ever being so heavy before. How heavy was the knife in his hand when he killed Jonah Magnus? How heavy was it in Martin’s hand before he plunged it into Jon’s side? But how much worse would it have been for Jon to stay there in the Panopticon, stuck there alone when Martin eventually died? Trapped to wait out the death of the rest of the world, living out the same hell Jack’s known for over 200 years? What happens if he frees him? More blood on his hands, and he can guess what consequences come with that. Can he live with himself if he does? Can he live with himself if he doesn’t? He’s so lost. He looks to Martin, not for an answer, god he can’t put that on Martin again, but because he so desperately needs an anchor.

And just like that, he knows again what he can’t lose.

He turns back towards Jack with a steadying breath, meets his eyes, and drops the knife.

“Jon,” Jack whimpers in despair.

“Don’t misunderstand me,” Jon says. “If there truly is no other way, I’ll do it. But unless it comes to that, I won’t risk breaking what I have with Martin. I can’t even guarantee I’ll be able to give you what you want with regards to uniting you and Wilbur. All I’m asking for is some time to think this through and possibly find another solution.”

Jack sighs with some minor relief at that. “I suppose I didn’t think things through,” he admits, taking a moment to look at Martin himself. “Not that that’s surprising, though you’d think I would have learned better by now. Very well. I’ve waited over two centuries. What’s another hour or two?”

Trilby lets out a breath he had been holding and goes, “Let me see what we can do. I’ll get in touch with Lowri and come back with a plan. May I use your phone?”

The wait is strange, but it’s not as bad as it could be. They can’t hear exactly what’s going on yet, but Trilby sounds like he’s making some kind of progress with his superiors.

Jack looks up at Martin with the same earnest expression he’s always had for him. “I know we don’t really know each other, not any more than any prophet knows their prophecies, but I would have loved to love you, Martin. To love you more than just a friend by supposed happenstance or a boss with an unrequited crush on his collaborator or a prophet with two centuries’ worth of daydreams, even when I knew lovers come in twos.”

Martin makes a small, scoffing laugh, surprising himself with a little sniffle. “I’m sorry I couldn’t give you the chance. One of those things that just wasn’t meant to be. Fuck, we didn’t even write that collaboration.”

Jack makes the same laugh in return. “I always knew you weren’t mine to have. And in my heart of hearts, I always knew I was Wilbur’s. The thought of finally being with him again...” He holds a hand out to Martin, who takes it. “Lonely Lovers no more.”

Martin nods. “No more,” he agrees.

Jack briefly glances at Jon before looking at Martin again, gently placing his fingertips along Martin’s jaw and asking, “May I kiss your cheek?”

Martin looks to Jon as well, who hesitates before giving him a small nod. It’s a harmless enough request for a man about to die, and while Martin thinks he probably would have allowed it even if Jon said no, some part of him is glad that they all agree to let Jack have this one thing. He bows his head to allow the kiss, which Jack takes.

“Thank you,” Jack says as he pulls away. He then turns to Jon. “Please take care of Martin. I trust you will. Mark me, I will find some way to haunt you if you don’t.”

“That’s only fair,” Jon agrees, talking softly around the pang of empathy he has for Jack.

Then, looking at both of them, Jack goes, “I only have one last request: will both of you stay with me in my final moments? I know it’s a lot to ask of you, but it- it only makes sense to me, the Lovers witnessing my reunion with Wilbur.”

Jon and Martin look at each other, taking the moment to consider the request.

Martin takes a shaky breath and nods. “I’ll stay. Jon?”

Jon nods firmly. “I’ll stay as well.”

Jack breathes out like he has just set down a heavy burden. “Thank you.”

Trilby opens the door behind them. “We have our plan. As it happens, the Ministry’s Alexander Yarrow is a descendant of your Wilbur and has agreed to be used to fulfill your request. The arrangements are being made now. I’ve been asked to escort you to our facilities, Mister Frehorn.”

Jack nods his agreement and says, “Lead the way.”

The room looks like something out of a hunting lodge, taxidermy trophies of big game adorning the walls and the fire roaring in the fireplace giving off the only source of light. It shows a chalk circle in the middle of the floor written in runes. Claire stands opposite the fireplace, eyes closed, thumbs pressed together, and forefingers steepled as a point of concentration. Behind and above Claire is an observation window, where Jim and Lydia sit and watch outside of influence. Yarrow stands in the middle of the circle, dressed in his ancestor’s clothes and Frehorn’s Blade at his feet.

“Oh, you do so look like Wilbur,” Jack says, approaching Yarrow.

Yarrow gives him a shallow nod. “I’m sorry that it’s come to this.”

“Don’t be; I was the fool who asked to live.” Jack gives him a pat on the shoulder and moves to stand just outside of the circle, opposite to Trilby with Yarrow in between them.

“If you’d like to join Mister Frehorn on the other side of the room,” Claire tells Jon and Martin, “I will be here to assist Alex and serve as an anchor for our minds.”

Jon and Martin cross to join Jack, who takes Martin’s hand. Martin places his other hand on top, not allowing himself to think too much about it and simply letting it be comforting. Jon places his hands on Martin’s shoulder and arm.

“Clear your mind, Alex,” Claire instructs Yarrow. “Concentrate on the sound of my voice as I speak physically and mentally. Relax your muscles, let yourself just be.”

Yarrow’s breathing slows as he relaxes, allowing himself to simply stand.

Alex, can you hear me? Claire asks, reaching out with her mind.

Yes, he answers.

Trilby, can you hear me? she asks.

Yes.

Jon, can you hear me?

Yes.

Martin, can you hear me?

Yes.

Claire nods and takes a deep breath, both speaking aloud and mentally projecting when she goes, “Lydia, I believe we are ready.”

“Understood,” Lydia says over an intercom. “Trilby, you may begin.”

Trilby steadies himself with his own deep breath before beginning the ritual. “In this hall of death, and by the light of Prometheus’s gift, I call thee.”

At this, the circle begins to glow a faint white.

“I bring thee gifts that may tempt thee back. Thy flesh and blood has been garbed in thy finery that thou wouldst be clothed. I bring thee thy lover’s blade that thou wouldst be armed. Come.”

He speaks with calm, professional authority.

“Come,” he says again, voice firm and steady.

Yarrow twitches, ever so slightly.

“ Come ,” Trilby calls a final time.

Yarrow gasps as if he’s breathing for the first time, his eyes opening wide. His hands go to his chest, inspecting the way it moves under his fingers when he breathes. And then he meets Jack’s eyes.

“Jack,” he says in a voice not his own.

Jack lets go of Martin, stepping forward. “Wilbur?”

He nods and reaches towards him. “Jack!”

Jack rushes to him. “Oh Wilbur!”

The two embrace and collapse to their knees, Jack sobbing his apologies into Wilbur’s shoulder. Wilbur threads his fingers through Jack’s hair and kisses the top of his head.

“I forgive you, of course I forgive you,” Wilbur tells him, trying to soothe his love. “I know what you saw. I saw the demon, too. I saw how he tricked you, felt how he used me. He moved me beyond my control. Oh, my poor love. What has he done to you, my love?”

“Given me a life without you,” Jack answers, clinging to him. “Two centuries of pain. No matter what I did, not once did I stop loving you. All I’ve known is agony.”

“Oh Jack. But what can I do?”

“You can take me with you. Please, Wilbur.”

Wilbur’s hands shake on Jack’s back. “I- I don’t know if I can do that...”

“It would be a mercy, my love,” Jack tells him. “Possibly a mercy I don’t deserve, but one you can give. I can’t do it myself. Please… Please, pick up my knife.”

Wilbur pulls away enough to cradle Jack’s face in his hands and places a kiss on his temple. “Jack, if I do this, what will become of us? Do you know what will happen?”

Jack shakes his head, his hand on Wilbur’s. “No. Not fully. But I’m ready. And I love you.”

Wilbur frowns deeply and shudders, nodding. “I love you, too.”

The two kiss, soft, lingering, final. When they pull away, Wilbur takes Frehorn’s Blade in his hand. He takes Jack in his hold, tenderly stroking the back of his head. He raises the knife high, burying his face in Jack’s shoulder. With Jack’s face turned towards his lover’s neck, Wilbur plunges the knife into Jack’s back.

Jack wrenches back on a wordless, breathless gasp of deep relief before slumping over, his head on Wilbur’s shoulder. When he does, the knife sparks a bright blue like a bolt of lightning.

Wilbur takes the knife out and lets it clatter to the floor, wailing as he holds Jack close to him.

Trilby turns away from the scene, tipping his hat low to shield his eyes. Claire shivers, trying to maintain focus but tears slipping down her cheeks. Martin hides his face in Jon’s shoulder, softly weeping, and Jon likewise turns towards Martin’s chest to comfort him and hide from the sight.

Once Wilbur’s sobs subside, Trilby turns ahead once more. His voice is softer now. “Wilbur, Jack, you are free to move on. I release you.”

Wilbur lets the last crying jag leave him before Yarrow’s body becomes still as it had been before, this time propping Jack’s body up. When that happens, Frehorn’s Blade stops glowing as well.

Alex, are you here?

Yes, Miss Wyndham.

Trilby, are you here?

Yes, Claire.

Jon, are you here?

…..Yes.

Martin, are you here?

…..Yes. Yes, I’m here.

Claire takes a shaking breath and opens her eyes. “Everyone… Everyone is present. Alex, your part in this has ended.”

Yarrow lifts his head up, holding Jack by the shoulders. He sits there a moment, trembling while his breathing evens out. He moves Jack to the floor, crossing his arms over his chest and using the cleaner one of his hands to close Jack’s eyes. He slowly gets to his feet and looks at the blood on him.

“Miss Wyndham,” he says, soft and still a bit shaky.

“Yes, sir?” Claire answers, sniffling.

“Please call emergency services.”

“Yes, sir.” She nods and turns to leave.

“Trilby,” he addresses next

“Yes, sir?”

“Please have Frehorn’s Blade cleaned and secured in the Ministry’s artefact storage. Once we have cleared that with the other authorities, of course.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I... I will be taking some time off to… process these events,” Yarrow says. “I advise that you, Miss Jarvis, Miss Wyndham, and Mister Fowler all do the same. I will be passing along the message to Mrs. Gilkenny to expect your official leave requests. For now, I will join Miss Wyndham to explain what happened.”

Trilby nods as Yarrow makes his way out of the room. Once he’s gone, Trilby approaches Jon and Martin. “Would either of you like to stay any longer?”

Martin shakes his head. “I think we’ve stayed long enough,” he says, squeezing Jon’s hand.

Jon holds Martin’s hand in both of his and squeezes back. “We- we should probably go home. It’s been a long night for all of us.”

Trilby nods in grim agreement. “Well, you know where I am if you need anything.”

“Right,” Jon says. “You, too.”

Trilby goes to the wall and presses his side’s intercom button. “Jim?”

“Yes, Trilby?” Jim answers, trying to keep his voice steady.

“I have to go to artefact storage. Can you please see Jon and Martin home?”

“Be there in a moment.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll go with them,” Lydia says. “And I can come back to escort you as well?”

Trilby hesitates a moment before hitting the button again and going, “I’d appreciate that. Thank you, Lydia.”

Jon and Martin spend a long time lying awake in bed. The crying from tonight’s grim reprise of memories of the Panopticon ended some time ago, and the comforting caresses that had previously been urgent have now stilled in a calm but melancholy embrace. Nothing but the dark, the ambient noises of their flat, and their breathing now evened out.

Eventually, Martin speaks. “Jon?”

Jon has his head tucked against Martin’s neck from his spot half-draped across his chest. He pulls up to look at him. “Yes, Martin?”

“Do you think… do you think you would have done it?”

Jon presses his mouth into a line. “I’m not sure. Maybe? I want to say I would have kept my word if we had no other choice.” He sighs. “I can imagine his pain enough that I probably could have done it if I just focused on that. Still...” He trails off there.

“I’m glad there was another choice,” Martin says, idly moving his fingers against Jon’s back.

“Would you have done it?” Jon asks. “If it came to you?”

Martin takes a deep breath and says, “Same boat as you. If we had no other choice, maybe I would have. Hard to think about, though.”

Jon closes his eyes and leans towards Martin, pressing their foreheads together. “I wouldn’t have wanted you to. Maybe that’s too selfish.”

Martin hums a moment before he shifts and kisses Jon’s forehead. “Well, maybe we have enough to live with without adding to it.” He smooths his hand up to run his fingers through Jon’s hair.

Jon hums in return and moves to press a tender kiss to Martin’s mouth. “Martin?”

“Yes, love?”

“Thank you for letting me be part of your life.”

Martin gives him a tiny smile, finding some unexpected, grounding peace in that. It’s the relief of being out in the cold winter but seeing the soft glow of the light in your house and knowing soon you’ll be warm.

“Thank you for letting me be part of yours,” Martin says in return, giving him another kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Jon says before nestling his head in the crook of Martin’s neck again.

The two settle down, Martin fully wrapping his arms around Jon and giving one more kiss to the top of his head. Jon half-yawns and lets himself be still, finally where he should be.

#tma #chzo mythos #aura's fanfiction #on this day in aura's tma/chzo mythos fanfiction

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