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hyuuukais · 9 months ago

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.・゜-: ✧ :- FICTIONAL REALITY .・゜-: ✧ :-

pairing • bang chan x fem reader

synopsis • fiction or reality? y/n preferred the former, escaping into another world, escaping her problems. so what happens when reality takes that away from her; wiping her own story-in-progress off both her laptop and beloved usb? and what happens when she opens the door in the middle of a crisis to none other then the love interest of her novel... and he's holding her usb?

warnings • general, character death, blood, chan is very much in pain

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN • FIND ME (1.8k)

Waves crash against a beach that shouldn't exist, especially not in the middle of a populated city. Darkness eats up your surroundings, allowing you to just barely see the man standing at the edge of the water. He stands still, untouched by the wind or rain, or the ocean water drowning his ankles. He's not in the same clothes as you last saw him, but instead a short-sleeved white shirt with matching bottoms. From what you can tell, he's not wearing shoes, bare footprints imprinted in the sand only just beginning to dissolve.

Calling out to him would be of no use; he won't hear you, and even if he could, would he turn around? Or has he realized this is his chance to leave you and choose his own fate? Has Yeonjun manipulated him like he did you? Before you can change your mind, you keep going. With an arm up to shield your eyes from the spray of water, you keep going. Mental walls keep your doubts away, and you keep going. You are determined to have the last laugh.

Cold water hits your skin, soaking your pant legs in one go. You really should have taken your shoes off before getting in.

"Chan," you can barely hear yourself, placing an arm on his shoulder. "Ah!"

You jolt away, hand burning a bright red. On his shoulder is a handprint singed onto the white material, the same shape and size as your own. Up close, you can see his eyes are closed and his nose is dripping blood, decorating his shirt like an inkblot, the red colour appearing black in the night. Reaching out physically clearly isn't an option, not wanting to burn him or yourself again. So you stand in front of him as close as you dare, closing your eyes and willing him to come back to you.

Wheezing, coughing, tears brimming. Similar symptoms to when Minho passed out in your living room, except Chan is fully awake on the floor of the hospital. You're lying in a bed less than a foot away from him, your ex hovering over your motionless body, and he can't do anything; can't move, can barely breathe, and every time he does try to move his head swims so intensely he thinks he'll throw up. His arm has started to reappear slowly, painfully.

"I could take her," Yeonjun breaks the silence. "Not like you can do anything about it in your position."

The occasional threats he's been spewing out have started to mean nothing to Chan. If he were to do something, he'd have done it by now. What is he waiting for? Or is he dragging this out simply to watch everyone suffer? To Chan, that seems likely.

A burning pain covers his shoulder and he hisses, bringing a hand up to feel the warmth. There's a tear in the shape of a handprint where the fabric of his shirt should be.

"Chan."

"Hello?" Chan attempts to sit up, vision blurring and black spots entering the edges of his sight, but he manages to prop himself up on the bed leg.

"Chan," he hears again. "Find me, please. I'm here."

And he knows exactly who he's hearing now. "Y/n? Where... where are you? You're here, but you're not really here, are you?"

No one answers, not even Yeonjuns taunting. Yeonjun, who should still be where he was sitting by your body. Yeonjun, who is no longer there.

He crashes onto a car parked on the street, glass breaking and the horn honking loudly. Pain has been a foreign concept up until now, an aching sensation spreading through his back while people gather around to watch his next moves. Jeongin gasps, sliding off the roof of the car and crumbling into himself on the ground. A wet feeling covers the back side of his body, but he doesn't dare touch it. Maybe it's better not knowing the damage done.

Struggling to stand up with wobbly legs, Jeongin uses the car as support. The crowd has only gotten bigger, but they don't do anything. No one tries to touch him or hurt him; no one approaches at all. As he walks through the horde, they part slightly to let him limp through. When he finally reaches the edge, there's a small cat waiting for him, looking up at him with big eyes and rubbing against his leg. It bounds forward, stopping to look at him expectantly.

"Want me to follow you?" His voice comes out shaky, distant.

Of course, the cat doesn't reply, only waits for him to step forward before it continues on. It doesn't look back again, trusting Jeongin is following closely. The night has turned cold, so, so cold, and he shivers intensely as they walk onto a street with fewer buildings, less protection. Walking is becoming harder, limbs growing numb. Whether that's from the cold or the pain in his back, Jeongin ignores it regardless. He doesn't know how he got here, only that he needs to make it back to you and the others.

Eventually, the cat stops at an intersection just outside of town. On a nearby post, there's a bouquet of flowers hanging on by a ribbon wrapped around it, a photo stapled underneath of a little boy and his parents. The ground around the post is damp, a small puddle forming right at the base.

"Why did you bring me here?" But when he turns the cat is gone, someone standing with their back to him in its place.

"You need to stop interfering." The man turns around, metal glinting in his hand.

Everything happens quickly, the rush forward and the warm, wet liquid running down Jeongin's chest and stomach. He can't move, hitting the ground soundlessly with the man standing over him. The taste of copper fills his mouth, his nose. There's nothing he can do except lay here and wait for the night to take him, droplets of water hitting his face softly.

It's starting to rain.

Soft hands touch your face and the aggressive sounds of waves crashing fade around you. Your eyes flutter open, revealing Chan, who's holding you and looking at you like he's been away for a long, long time. Instinctively, you pull away, but he holds on tighter, wrapping one arm around your waist and another around your shoulders, hand in your hair. He's shaking, barely stable. And he smells really good, too good for someone who was previously standing in the sea covered in blood. The warmth of his body is so tempting to lose yourself in, but you know better.

"Chan." You pull away again, not leaving his arms, but giving enough space to look him in the eyes again. "You found me?"

"I will always find you," he whispers. "Always, no matter where you are I'll find you. Just call my name and I'll be there."

A smile breaks out on your face. Despite everything, you feel safe with him, almost happy. His nose nudges yours, breath on your skin. It's almost enough for you to not realize the icy feeling creeping up your back, or the way the world around you has been consumed by light. Now you really pull away, despite Chan's whining. You've never seen this room before, but you're dressed in the same white that covers the walls, the same white you found Chan in.

In the middle of the room stands a mirror with two frozen figures in front of it. You immediately recognize them; Minho and Jeongin aren't moving, not even breathing by the looks of it. Frozen tears lay halfway down Jeongin's face, and Minho's fist is stopped seconds away from the reflective surface, white clothes stained bright red.

"What is this place?" You ask, more to yourself than anyone else.

You're finally here, a voice whispers in your ear. Are you ready?

"Ready?" You walk a slow circle around the mirror, stopping on the other side; both are reflective. "Ready for what?"

To get married, it says. Or to end it all. Really, the choice is yours. He thinks he's in control of this, of you, but he's not. That is, unless you keep letting him be.

"No, I won't let him." You don't need to ask who 'he' is, standing your ground. "He doesn't get to be a part of my life anymore. I have a plan."

That's it.

You walk back to Chan, whispering in his ear, and he stares at you as you pull away. He opens his mouth to speak, but you place a finger on his lips. This was all you could think of and you couldn't have any possible doubt in your mind about it. Walking over to the frozen bodies of your friends, you whisper in their ears knowing they may not hear you wherever they are. You don't even know if they'll be with you when this happens. Up close, you notice a red stain growing bigger on Jeongin's chest, but there's no source from what you can tell. When you touch him, you get the same zap as you did with Chan.

When you go back to the mirror, the surface ripples ever so slightly, a smaller version of yourself standing in front of you. She's shrunk into herself, a dark bruise hidden behind the messy hair in her face. Your heart aches looking at her, at you. Beside her, a shadowed figure places a hand on the back of her head and she flinches, hair being pulled tight, but she doesn't make a sound. You can feel a hand on your own head, but no one pulls. Someone is stroking your hair, soothing you instead of scaring you.

"Can you see this?" You ask, voice barely audible, somehow too loud in your ears at the same time.

"Yes," Chan answers. "Yes, I can."

You reach out, hand touching the mirror. It takes a minute, but she brings her hand out too, pausing in fear of the shadow behind her when he shifts forward. His chest is pressed against her back, his unoccupied hand wrapping around her neck lightly. With a surge of courage, she flies forward, and your hands clasp through the boundary.

A flash of pain hits you; you would have fallen to the ground if not for Chan's hold on you. The feeling of him starts to fade, and you open your eyes, not registering them closing in the first place. You're lying on a plush couch, and when you move, you feel your skirt ride up. Someone enters the room as you sit up, not having a second to recognize the room you're in.

"Hyun's outside in the car when you're ready." Yeji sits next to you, placing a hand on yours which lays on the skirt of your wedding dress, fingers clawing into the material. "Are you sure you want this?"

Deja vu hits you strong, memories of this conversation happening a different way playing in your head.

"Tell him to come inside," you decide. "I'm getting married."

●

notes • we're getting married yall!!!!!!!!!!!! also, rip jeongin, u will be missed king. unless, yk, ur not actually dead yet. who said that?

taglist • @yongbbokkie @chaeryred @tenebrisirae @toplinelix @chansdoll @amaranth-writing @3rachachoo @linosjureumi @thebrownemo @tfshouldidohere @channie-143 @frogieeheart @kangaracharacha @skzswife @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @palindrome969 @laylasbunbunny

TAGLIST CLOSED ^^^blue means i can't tag you

#.・゜-: ✧ :- FICTIONAL REALITY .・゜-: ✧ :-#skz #stray kids #non idol au #bang chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan x fem reader #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #bang chan series #bang chan fanfic

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seekers-who-are-lovers · 2 years ago

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Pretty in pink: Kazuki K & subversion (an homage)

Note: For Kazukiweek 2023: Acceptance

Pink is fresh. It is a happy color. It is positive. It is a sign of good health. That says a lot about Kazuki Kurusu. He has a bubbly personality, his optimism is brimming, especially after the seventh episode. It sure helps that Rei and Miri have become his ethos, have accepted to welcome the changes after five years of losing Yuzu. Usually, he wears his emotions on his sleeve. (But I think that’s only a front.) I love him. Right to the 11th episode, he has totally embraced the new life he’s been leading with Rei and Miri. The fact that he wanted it all along but was apprehensive because of his traumatic experiences made him cautious of the way he dealt with Rei and Miri. Rei’s determination on the second balcony scene was the catalyst because he knew how much K wanted it.

That fond looks K gives toward his family.

In the West, we are past that era where men cannot subvert pink’s gendered stereotype. You see men wear pink dress shirts, pink suits and other piece of clothing and they look spectacularly good. It is still a test of bravery for some though. Small boys still despise this color perceiving it as a girly stuff. New mothers try to veer their daughters away from this color by consciously not purchasing and introducing pink-coloured merchandise to their daughters’ color palette only to be disappointed because of peer pressure in the kindergartens. You know Elsa and Anna and the beautiful ladies of Disney and their association with pink? Too common, too banal.

However, “in contemporary Japanese culture, says (Barbara) Nemitz, pink is perceived as a masculine and mournful color that represents ‘young warriors who fall in battle while in the full bloom of life.’” Slain young samurai. All right. (Thanks to PA Works, it didn’t come to that though.)

It is also the color of sakura, cherry blossoms, which are the Japanese’s favourite flower. They do picnics just enjoying and gazing at the beauty of cherry blossoms (and later, peach blossoms). The Hanami. Some Japanese migrants adapted this ritual/event to their host countries and it is a sight to behold.

Different shades/nuances of pink worn by K and the moms

Pink has long been associated with homosexuality. The pink triangle. The lgbtq movement reclaimed the former badge of shame used by the Nazis incorporating it into the pride flag later. Though almost 70 per cent of the Japanese society supports it, it still is a huge problem to come out.

While there are no legal implications, coming out remains taboo for many in Japan for fear of being ostracized. A survey of young LGBTQ people published last year found high levels of mental anguish, including suicidal thoughts. More than 90% said they couldn’t talk about their sexuality with their guardians. Very few people in national politics or the corporate world are openly gay, although homosexual themes and LGBTQ celebrities are a staple of television and other forms of entertainment.

“Buddy Daddies” is not marketed as BL, but the show makers can write whatever about their characters. Sometimes implying them without direct confirmation. It depends how the viewers interpret it.

But K also symbolizes subversion. K’s characterization nonetheless goes against of what is perceived to be the norm in the Japanese society. He is both a nurturer and a protector, though Rei certainly will take over this “protector/saviour” task without any question. From the looks of it, he’d do anything for K and Miri.

Rei always in front to gauge the danger

An odd man out, K does the household chores while he can carry an adult man without any problem. We have seen him does it more than twice already. He’s loud and conspicuous. In Japan, you must never stand out. (<< - Shogo’s videos are highly recommended to watch btw!) He (and Rei) (go) goes against the rules. They blur the gender stereotyping in all aspects of life.

The crew presented the scenarios as if they were a matter of fact, normal, without making fun or light of it. No further commentary. One can say that it is subversive in a sense they want the audience to become aware of their thoughts on adoption, new family dynamics, the bureaucratic hurdles of enrolling your children and better access to daycare centres/schools to the ever-present mothers who have to give up their jobs and dedicate their lives to their kids, etc.

(It was unfortunate that they didn’t follow it up with Misaki Unasaka.)

Why do I get this feeling that one way or another “Buddy Daddies” had been the show makers’ thinly veiled social commentary on their society?

Anyway, I will miss his winking. Either way, I can still rewatch it.

Many happy returns, K!

#buddy daddies #buddy daddies anime #kazuki kurusu #buddy daddies wall of text #rei suwa #miri unasaka #kazurei #i could write an essay about K #and his love for the color pink #he’s not afraid of his masculinity #episode 9: no sweet without sweat #i salute all men who wear pink #and they look good on them tbh #apologies I overuse the word subversion #a birthday homage to K #happy birthday k #kazukiweek2023

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all-pacas · 28 days ago

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Honestly, I thought the writers were psychotic with how forced the hameron arc was, makes sense the character were writing seemed weird too.

OK, here's my lukewarm defense of Hameron:

I buy that the arc would happen.

Cameron likes to fix people, but more than that, Cameron likes to be right. She has strong morals, she really does believe the world should work in a certain idealistic way — she's not stupid, she knows it doesn't, but she keeps hoping for better, she keeps pushing for better. And in a way, she's a lot like House, who also has to be right, who has to understand and pick at people and know. Neither do well with mysteries, neither do well with ambiguity, both are disappointed over and over again by the fact that people lie and are bad and are selfish. But House is cynical and avoidant and hides his intense empathy behind twenty layers of asshole, and Cameron wears hers on her sleeve.

From the start of the show, in fact, they're constantly having this philosophical debates. Foreman pushes back on House when he thinks House is messing up or missing something tangible; Cameron pushes on the morals. They discuss religion. They discuss abortion. She's absolutely unafraid to push House on his beliefs, and it's interesting (and another post, probably) that Cameron is nearly always presented in the narrative as wrong; her faith in others is never validated. But she keeps trying anyway. And that's an interesting dynamic. But it's also a doomed one: House isn't ever going to change too drastically, and so Cameron either has to become cynical like him — and therefore lose these appealing traits — or distance herself. I think this is also, ultimately, why she was written off the show (as much as I hate that she was).

House in S1 does treat her differently than he does Foreman and Chase. He's constantly pushing Foreman, because Foreman is brilliant but kind of needs to be pushed, is too stubborn and set in his ways otherwise. Chase kind of coasts by in the background: he actually pushes back against House quite a bit, if not to Foreman's extent; he doesn't have an issue saying I think this is wrong if he needs to. Cameron, in S1, is the one always defending House, always sticking up for him. She's the only one who insists he doesn't have a drug problem, for example; when House is off on a particularly long limb (such as in Damned if You Do), she's the only one saying "no, he has to be right, he isn't just making this up." House in turn is a bit gentler with her. He reassures her when she's worried no one takes her seriously. Foreman and Chase, at least, think that she's House's favorite: he certainly is less critical of her than he is the guys, and is quite gentle with her when she's upset on the whole.

So, okay, decent set up. The problem is that the crush arc comes out of fucking nowhere. "I need to know how you feel about me," Cameron says, out of nowhere, as though they've been exchanging looks and heated moments for months, as if they've been flirting. He invites her to monster trucks and they have a good time, genuinely, but Cameron at least beforehand is clear that she knows it's not a real date. I can see her thinking afterward that it was a date, that it was a sign of interest, but the thread isn't picked up on at all for a few episodes; I think they should have had them… maybe not flirting, but have House do his "stand inappropriately close" thing, send some Mixed Messages. Something to make Cameron come off as less completely delusional.

But fine. She asks how he feels, and, okay, she has a crush on him. He says nothing. The next episode, she and Chase have a little conversation about this (and in my S1 rewatch, for real, I do appreciate their friendship, they really do get along well, apparently Chase knows all about her crush to the point she asks him for advice), and that's pretty good too. She admits she likes House, but not in an unrealistic way. She shot her shot, it didn't work, she's uncomfortable around House now. Works for me.

Except then Cameron maybe makes a minor mistake and jumps to House wants to fire me because he can't handle his love for me! Which. Cameron. My gal. That's insane. She spends the entire episode stomping around furious that House dared suggest she made a mistake. It's made worse because just like two episodes ago, Chase made a bigger mistake and was legitimately worried about his job and didn't take it personally, like, you made a much smaller error and are freaking out and taking it as a personal insult. We know House calls people on their mistakes! He doesn't care! It isn't personal! But Cameron is like nope, it's personal, it's about his love for me, and again, there has been nothing from House here. Nothing at all. And so she quits explicitly to take control of the situation and her feelings (VERY on brand for Cameron, no notes), and then kicks off Kids with "I can't come back because it was so weird between us :(" like she isn't the one who made it weird. It's so wiiiiild

I think I lost my train of thought. Anyway. I think the set up and concept were okay, if always completely doomed, but the writing absolutely did them no favors. I can buy Cameron's crush on House, and I can fanfic my way into seeing House with a bit of an interest in Cameron. But in the space of two episodes we go from nothing to "everyone knows House has a thing for her, really!!!!" with absolutely nothing to show for it. They even try to make a big sad moment in the finale like "you're capable of love, just not love for me!" like the entire plot line didn't come off as entirely in Cameron's head dfsdf

Ironically and hilariously they have way more and better tension/chemistry after this arc. S3 has some genuinely strong Tense Moments. I think their dynamic is overall much more interesting and stronger in S4 and S5, when they're on more equal footing and Cameron has gotten more confident and less gloomy. Like, I still don't care for it, and I firmly believe it would crash and burn in two days (Cameron would haaaaate dating House once the excitement of fucking her boss wore off, we joke about how broken people are her type but he is not her type, they're two control freaks who would murder one another), but boy is this show also just awful at writing romance.

Also pour one out for Hugh Laurie who clearly was not into the ship and did not hide it. Like I'm agnostic towards Huddy but you cannot deny they had chemistry and enjoyed flirting and those actors acted their hearts out with all that banter. Hugh Laurie just looks faintly terrified in all his S1 scenes with Cameron and. Good for him lmaooo

#malpractice posting

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hopeymchope · 9 months ago

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DanganLike, Ahoy: 'Inescapable' is a rollercoaster of highs and lows

I've previously laid out what "Inescapable: No Rules, No Rescue" is about and how its gameplay works, so I'm not going to reiterate that here. Right now, I'm going to focus on explaining what's great about it... and sadly, why it ultimately disappointed me.

You might say that Inescapable left me a bit 'upsetty spaghetti.'

It's blatantly obvious how much time and effort were put into this game... not only because the art is gorgeous and there's clearly a lot of love poured into the dialogue, but mostly because each of the game's four "routes" contains so much unique material. You spend the first half of your playthrough making the decisions that wind up deciding what the second half will be, meaning that the entire second half — 50% of a given playthrough's runtime! — can be completely different on four different runs. Although plenty of visual novels have alternate routes/endings, few I've encountered do it to this extent. And even when they do contain such extensive differences between routes, they don't usually do this MANY routes; consider 'Steins;Gate 0', which has only two major routes once it breaks off.

Literally the first line of the entire game is a reference to another piece of media. It will not be the last. And I say that with affection! I found these references fun.

In essence, the devs at Dreamloop games have scripted, directed VAs, and made distinct CGs for 2.5 complete runs of a a story that tkes roughly 12 hours on the first pass, giving you well over 30 hours of playtime... provided you want all that. Some of the routes even have unique gameplay mechanics JUST for them!!

Searching 3D environments where our characters stand as 2D cutouts... seems familiar.

Dreamloop's European team wear their affection for Danganronpa on their sleeve, too. Early on, the characters participate in a pretend murder-mystery where they are challenged to find "the Blackened." When/if blood is spilled, it's usually bright pink. Someone breaks into Monokuma's signature laugh at one point... these devs are people of refined tastes. :)

One of many overt references to the devs' love for DR.

And oh god, that voice acting. Most major scenes are fully voiced in English, but of the four routes in the game �� Greed, Lust, Suspicion, and Trust — it's the Suspicion route that really shows how excellent their VAs can be. They will break your fucking heart in that storyline. Highest possible kudos for those performances.

But let's dip deeper into those four routes, because their presence is both a big brag point (tons of content!) and also the game's biggest downfall. The main problems with them are twofold:

If you're going to have four different second-halves of your game, they ALL need to align with that first half. But because the game uses such arbitrary reasons for why it slots you into one of its four routes (I'll circle back to that), the player character — Harrison — can suddenly come off as being WILDLY different after doing very fucking little to justify it. Two of the routes just... don't feel like you're playing the same character any more after the transition into the back half; Harrison goes from being well-meaning but nervous and full of self-doubt to suddenly being defined and dominated by some new trait that has NEVER existed before then.

But there's an even bigger issue with the four routes. See, most visual novels with multiple endings/routes keep the characters consistent across all the story branches; it's only your choices that change what storyline you wind up on. Even in Danganronpa, when you play any bonus modes or side games (Island Mode, UTDP, Danganronpa S), the characters remain inherently the same people. 'Inescapable' doesn't adhere to this logic, though; the personalities, behavior, and background motivations of the characters are completely different on different routes. And I don't just mean "In one route they are mean and in another they are nice." I mean they are so FUNDAMENTALLY different that you just have to accept that this person containing the same name, VA, and sprites is a completely different character. If the same person opens up/reveals more of themselves to you (i.e., Harrison) on two different routes, then one route could have that person reveal their fears, insecurities, and innate kindness... while the other route reveals them to be a sociopathic, Machiavellian figure (sorry for the bad rap, Nic). If you a character see fall from grace into becoming basically a Nazi on one route, another route might show you that same character as someone who holds onto their best ideals even in the face of brutal hardship. It's hard to even explain how INCREDIBLY different these characters are between routes. In one route, a quiet character is just a shy sweetheart waiting to be brought into the light... in another, they're a complete sociopath who tortures with detached curiosity. These people are ALL-FUCKING-OVER the place!

Mia is Harrison's closest confidant and ally throughout the first half of the game. And the sprite shown here is giving major Chiaki vibes.

I can truly say that I've never seen another visual novel take that approach before... and this break from the norm only helps to make it clear WHY we established that norm. It's hard to embrace and love a character who winds up an important, trustworthy ally on one route when you've already seen the same person be your most aggressive, duplicitious nemesis on another route. It serves as a powerful deterrant to establishing much emotional attachment to these people. Everybody I loved in the first half of the game eventually became people I no longer cared about, because the routes make it clear that they can each suddenly become ANY type of character at ANY time the writers demand it.

There's some commentary on modern politics as well as representation of gay, non-binary and asexual people in here. But is it still desirable representation if those characters only reveal their sexual preferences on ONE story route — and worse, they're evil on some other route???

As long as we're talking about routes, though, let's break them all down in regards to how you reach them. (Yup, this is the time for that circle-back I promised y'all earlier.) The game does NOT provide any hints or insight into how you get onto the routes, but people who've brute-forced the game and looked into the files have figured out quite a bit. And boy, these triggers are... some bullshit.

You get Greed by winning competitions or playing built-in mini-games. I wound up on this route during my first playthrough SOLELY because the game includes a daily (in-game daily, that is — and a 'day' in the game is usually around seven minutes) Wordle mini-game, and I played it regularly. I also played the three Arcade cabinet mini-games (an Asteroids clone, a side-scrolling infinite runner, and... Seagull BBQ, which is by far the most fascinating/weird one IMO). And playing mini-games apparently means you're greedy, because it tosses you onto this route where your character suddenly values money over all else. (????) Other stuff that leads you down this path includes winning any games in the story, such as when the characters do a tug-of-war or host a trivia quiz about each other. YEAH, playing the quiz well evidently is a sign of Greed... THIS is the kind of shit that makes these triggers so frustrating.

You get Lust by talking a lot to any characters the game deems "scantily clad" or possibly, uh... fetish-ize-able. That means spending time with the innocent maid (Annika) counts for this ending because she's dressed as a maid, and that's a potential fetish, so fuck you. :P Talking to Giovanni the Italian 50something dude ALSO counts, because his shirt is hanging open to reveal his musculature. The twin-tailed teenage heir to a fortune? That fuckin' counts, too — she's young and small, ergo it's now a "lust' point. Talking to Eva, the excessively flirty social media diva in small clothing? OBVIOUSLY counts... but that's really the only one that legitimately makes some sense. (Weirdly, spending time with the huge-boobed Portuguese mechanic who always sports her midriff seemingly does NOT count towards this route. Is it because she's in her 30s? Is this sexist ageism shit?) Other triggers for this one are thankfully more obvious: Choosing to play around with or be alone with any girl (even if it's part of a meta-game, such as when the cast are playing 'Caverns & Wyverns'... yeah, that's a thing), going to the sauna alone with a girl, etc.

Off-brand Fast & Furious movies are somehow a plot point on MULTIPLE routes. Starring "Bill Petrol"!

You get Suspicion by spending most of your time talking to your most trusted confidant (Mia) and/or to the most suspicious/secretive person around (Sasha). Also eavesdropping on conversations or spying on people to learn what they're up to will get you here. Oh, and when the producers tell you that you can use in-game points to unlock bits of "Dirt or "Gossip" that will reveal secrets about the other contestants? Yeah, going for "Dirt" whatsoever will ABSOLUTELY get you on this route. This is the route that most heavily caters to Danganronpa fans, because this is the one that leads to you solving a series of murders on the island. And yes, you'll be investigating crime scenes, collecting evidence, and presenting it at opportune times to corner the killer! Unfortunately, the ultimate thesis is pretty much the opposite of Danganonpa: There's no hope to be found on this route. Instead, this is the perfect route for those oddballs who mostly liked Danganronpa but really felt Despair should've won. :P

Like I said, the hardest route to get is definitely Trust. You have to be RIDICULOUSLY pure and avoid ANY/ALL of the triggers for the other three in order to wind up on "Trust." In other words: Spend almost all your time with Daan, Lumi, Francisca, and/or Isak (because these are, for some reason, NOT triggers for other routes). Refuse to ever look at the unlockable "Dirt" or "Gossip." Never eavesdrop and never spy, no matter how sus a character is acting. Refuse to participate in as many in-story games as possible — even when you are prompted by the game to enter an answer or choose from a set of choices, try to find a way to refuse or to enter blatantly fake responses. Like, if the game says "Guess who the answer is to this question"? Just say "Nobody" or some crap like that. :P Don't play mini-games, because Wordle and Asteroids are somehow vaguely evil for reasons I don't get. At one point, there's an in-story competition where you have to choose to either take money (Greed) or expose someone's secrets (Suspicion), and you either need to know which characters to speak with in order to avoid BOTH options, or you need to keep them both as balanced as humanly possible.

It's unsurprising, I'm sure, that Trust is basically the mega-happy ending. But because Trust is easily the hardest route to access, you'll probably see these characters spiral into some shitty behavior on those OTHER routes well before you see them settle into something more peaceful. Which means that unfortunately — due to what I said earlier about the characters being wildly different people on different routes — this happy ending feels pretty unearned, maybe even unwanted. Because no matter how much of a pal they are on the "Trust" path, someone with the same name who looks and sounds the same was willing to go full fucking psycho on you with VERY little provocation on another route. So do you really think these people deserve this mega-happy ending? (It doesn't help that "Trust" also runs pretty long without much happening for 1/3 of it... it can turn into the most boring of the four, imo.)

The story supposedly takes place in 2017, but it sometimes makes references to things that didn't yet exist then. Oh well.

None of these routes are free from writing issues, unfortunately, Where the game excels at making very distinctive characters who are initially interesting despite their Choose-Your-Own-Adventure personalities, the actual overall plotting are where things always seem to fall apart. For example: In "Trust," a character disappears to go work secretly behind-the-scenes to free the group. And this staged disappearance of a major ally is probably the BIGGEST plot point in the final act of this route. Yet, ultimately, said ally... does nothing. They just vanish for most of the story, only to show up at the end and be like "Oh yeah I'm fine but there was no reason for my disappearance, I didn't do anything." It's not even clear why or how the whole 'Inescapable' broadcast/game ends on this route! It just... STOPS, after the characters are told multiple times by the producers that it WON'T, without any explanation. In "Suspicion," on the other hand, we have one major murder case where no motive for the premeditated brutal killing is ever established. This perpetrator isn't some maniac, but... I guess maybe they are, because the game never establishes ANY reason for why they did the horrible thing they did. It just... kinda happened. THESE are what I mean when I say there are big PLOT issues. On more than one occasion, it's just like "This shit happened for some reason. We either don't know or won't say why."

And I get that maybe my expectations/demands are just really high. There's a LOT that goes into high-quality writing, after all - you have to develop characters that are interesting, you have to have consistent characterization for them, you have to write dialogue that feels engaging, and you have to create coherent and intriguing plotting throughout. To its credit, Inescapable's writing absolutely succeeds in TWO of these things. But one of them, it fails in. And one of them? It doesn't even TRY to do.

I think you get the picture by now. I was ultimately let down by this latest attempt to recapture the magic of titles like Danganronpa, Zero Escape, etc. In the past two years, my favorite "Danganlike" attempt remains Yurukill — I still think about that one fondly and with surprising regularity. By comparison, Inescapable is a much longer/more complex game ... that I sadly have a markedly lower opinion of.

Both Yurukill and Inescapable ultimately end with a tease for a potential sequel. I would ABSOLUTELY play a Yurukill 2, but I feel like that's not looking too likely right now. Would I play an Inescapable 2, though? .... Eh. Maybe. If I was in the right mood or I heard/read something about it that sounded good, I may risk it.

#inescapble #visual novels #inescapable: no rules no rescue #screenshots #review #visual novel reviews #danganlike #danganlike ahoy #danganronpa

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rjalker · 8 months ago

Text

anyways. here's a fucking thread pointing out the blatant racism. At least there's one other person besides me who has a problem with this shit.

actually since Reddit fucking sucks for archival purposes I'll just copy and paste the entire thing here:

April 3rd 2024 for posterity.

____

Title:

So you understand that AI voice acting steals jobs from real voice actors, now can you understand that giving roles designed for Queer people of color to cishet white men is also stealing jobs from real Queer people of color?

Post:

Whitewashing does not exist in a vacuum.

Cis people giving roles designed for trans characters does not exist in a vacuum.

For every cisallohet white man who gets a role that was designed for a nonbinary person of color, there is now one more nonbinary person of color who's out of a job.

Rich successful white men do not need any more roles in Hollywood, especially not roles that should be going to Queer people of color. In the official art, Murderbot has dark skin. It has the darkest skin out of everyone in the Preservation Aux team.

[ID: A black and white digital drawing, showing a scene from The Murderbot Diaries book series. Murderbot, an androgynoid with very dark skin, wearing a white shirt and light pants, is leaping sideways over the chairs the other characters are sitting on, using one arm on the armrest to swing itself over, with its face hidden, and only the back of its head visible. The other characters are staring up at it in shock, confusion, and amazement: Ratthi, who has dark skin that is slightly lighter than Murderbot’s, is below it, throwing one hand out in shock, sending his mug of a dark liquid flying. He is wearing a light, long sleeved shirt and skinny jeans. Pin-Lee, who has light brown skin, is standing at a short table in the background, wearing a long sleeved shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a short skirt. Bharadwaj, who has brown skin, leaning forward over the table to stare, with only her long sleeved shirt visible above the table. Overse, who is white, is sitting in a chair next to Ratthi on the left side of the screen, looking up, with Arada’s light brown, bare legs and feet in her lap, with a beaded ankle bracelet. Overse is wearing a long sleeved shirt and leggings, and her own shoes are kicked off on the floor in front of her. End ID.]

Colorism exists in the real world. People with darker skin face more systemic hatred and disenfranchisement than people with lighter skin. Racism is already a systemic inescapable problem. Colorism only makes it worse.

Murderbot in the official art is not just a person of color, it has dark skin, and is the darkest of all the "main characters" we see.

Real dark-skinned, Queer actors deserve the opportunity to shine in roles designed for them. It is blatantly racist for these roles to instead by stolen by white people of any kind, but especially heinous for the roles to go to cisallohet white men who are already incredibly successful.

Because Alexander Skarsgård and Apple TV have made the blatantly racist and exorsexist decision to cast him in the role for Murderbot, this means that real nonbinary people of color have just lost what could have been a breakout job opportunity.

If you understand that using AI for voice acting is depriving real people of jobs, then you also need to grasp that allowing white people to steal roles meant for people of color without any backlash or criticism is directly contributing to and upholding white supremacy.

Every role meant for a person of color that goes to a white person instead is another person of color who's now out of a job.

Whitewashing characters for live action adaptations does not exist in a vacuum. It's not harmless. It's not "chronically online" to have a problem with it. It's a direct result of white supremacy, and literally allows white supremacy to continue being upheld.

AI steals jobs. So does whitewashing. If you care about one, then you need to also care about the other. White supremacy and whitewashing go hand in hand. Apple TV deciding to whitewash Murderbot is not harmless or simply "cringey". It's literally real life racism, colorism, and white supremacy, even before we get into the blatant exorsexism and transmisia of stealing roles from out trans nonbinary people.

____

and yes. If people comment I will also edit all of those comments into this post because Reddit fucking sucks and you can't save it to the Wayback Machine. So this post will keep getting edited and probably get even longer.

Edit: actually no I'm just blocking all these people.

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liza-webber · 2 years ago

Text

ICARUS

Summary:

The sky doesn't belong to you anymore.

After a huge crash one year ago, you stopped flying, and you feel like you don't belong to the Navy anymore. But your superiors think otherwise.

Now with the task of assisting a new instructor on a suicidal mission, maybe you have another chance to feel alive again.

Your heart is in the right place, but your brain keeps drowning you in darkness.

If you fly high enough will you reach the sky, or burn too close to the sun?

A/N: Hey!! After finishing Top Gun this Sunday I couldn't stop thinking about this story I made in my mind.

I hope you like it, if you know me from my previous fics you already know I love to explore my characters so have fun! Have a good reading<3

This fic contains spoilers for Top Gun: Maverick

Chapter Index

Chapter One: People Watching

The clouds in the sky, the rough wind against the metal, from up there life seems manageable, up there all my problems used to disappear, vanish with the wind, gone with the mountains. I loved to watch the world from up the clouds, to see the sun next to my eyes, to feel like I can control my own life.

But now…

Every time I look at the bright blue up our heads, every time I look at an airplane my body wants to run away and hide. The sky doesn't belong to me anymore, my problems are down here, in the dry land, where no matter where I run, I keep seeing her face.

The sound of the crash from almost a year ago keeps living in my head, I can’t forget about it, I don’t deserve to forget about it. If I let go it means that her life was meaningless, if life moves on, what’s the point of our past?

My eyes shot open, the nightmares never stop. Every lunch I try to eat alone, and sometimes I fall asleep against a wall, that was one of those times. My face is wet ‘cause of the sweat and the heat on the Navy's Base.

“Captain Hawks?” I hear someone with a rusty voice calling my callsign. I look up, Admiral Beau Simpson is looking down at me, his hands on his hips and concern in his eyes.

“Sir? I’m so sorry-”.

“The meeting is in thirty minutes”.

“Meeting? What?”.

“New Top Guns pilots will arrive by the end of the day, did you forget?”.

Yes, I did, and no, I can’t answer that.

“Of course not. I’m very aware of it”. Simpson offers his hand and helps me stand up.

The sun is burning on our skins, but I always insist on wearing long sleeves t-shirts, it makes me feel safe after what happened. We start to walk side by side getting inside the huge Navy Base, the white walls feel suffocating sometimes, especially when you’re me.

Even though I know a lot of people here respect me, a lot of them blame me for the accident that happened, and the gossip is always spreading around.

“The new instructor will arrive tonight” continues Simpson, “It’s your job to deliver all the information you have about the pilots tonight, the training start tomorrow”.

“This mission is really getting on your nerves huh?”

Simpson locks his blue eyes on me with a concerned expression, he walks very fast that I don’t even have time to look at my surroundings.

“All the previous instructors didn't accept this one, and you keep saying you aren’t in conditions to-”.

“And I’m still with no conditions to fly, Admiral Simpson. Helping with the training is the least I can do”.

“I know. I just hope this guy can help you with it”.

“Guy? Who’s the man you chose?”.

“We didn’t choose him. He is the only one left”.

Admiral Simpson opens a gray door and holds it to me, I enter the room, there’s a large table with some files, my files spread all around. At the other side of the table Admiral Bates is sitting with his arms crossed as he looks at the slide show impatient, not because of me, I hope.

When he puts his eyes on me a little, but soft, smile crosses his lips, and he looks relieved.

“Good afternoon, Captain”. He greets me.

“Same to you, coronel”.

“Your files are perfect, I hope the pilots we are receiving are as perfect as their results”.

“I hope they know how to press buttons and don’t faint in the airplane, like the previous ones,” Simpsons says as we sit at the table waiting for the Instructor to arrive.

"So, hm, you didn't tell me who is the infamous instructor at the bottom of the list. I'm curious".

The men look at each other and then at me again, I don't know if this is a good or a bad sign, maybe I'm thinking too much, or maybe I'm right, I can never tell.

A knock on the door steals my attention, and a voice, a very distinct voice echoes muffled by the door.

"It's him".

When the door opens, I have to contain a big smile from forming on my lips, in the front door is no other than Maverick, one of my favorite human beings in the entire world, he looks the same as ten years ago, just some tiny almost imperceptible wrinkles in the corner of his eyes, his brown hair always looking good, and his dangerous smirk on his lips.

Maverick looks surprised when he sees me, I give him a salute just before the start of the meeting because when it starts it looks like it will never end.

Simpsons gave Mav' all the information about the mission that we would be doing in three weeks, it's suicidal, I know that.

On the day of the accident we were doing a similar operation, I was the only one that came out alive, not because I was faster than the others, not because my pilotage was better, but because after my plane crashed and civilians found my body almost dead and helped me, so I survived.

I wish I didn’t.

I got lost in my thoughts just before hearing Admiral Bates saying my name.

“The Captain here will help you with the pilots, she has all the information about them, after that you’re dismissed”.

“With all due respect Admiral, I’m not a teacher”. Maverick says, his hands behind his back.

“Oh, I’m counting on that” I finally say, “These guys are the best of the best, they don’t need a teacher, they need a leader, Maverick, and we can talk outside. If that is possible admirals”.

I look at the men sitting beside me, both of them give a sharp nod allowing me and Maverick to leave, and that’s what we do.

“So… Captain, right?” Maverick says at the moment we entered Penny’s bar, I always loved all the decorations on the ceiling, the cups, the little airplanes, everything seems too easy there, like being a pilot was the easiest thing in the world, I wish it was.

I put my hands in my pockets a bit embarrassed, Maverick was like a walking legend to me, my grandpa had flown with his dad more than forty years ago, and I respect him so much.

“Yeah… It's been two years I guess. And you?”.

We sit at the bar’s counter and I watch as Maverick's eyes get lost in Penny Benjamin, I shake my head waiting for his answer but it never came, instead, he started to talk with Penny, gosh… the man got the moves.

As I wait for Maverick to come back from his endless flirting with Penny the bar’s door opens again, and there they are, a whole group of young Top Guns starts to walk inside the bar, their competitive eyes looking all around, and their loud laughs fulfill the place.

“And here they are ” I whisper to Mav breaking the fantasy he must be created in his head. He closes his eyes and then looks back at me, and I point to the other side of the bar at the pool table.

Maverick watch the pilots in silence like me, but sometimes his eyes go back to Penny and I laugh softly.

“Dude, calm down. You can take it”.

“Are you talking about the pilots or…” he points in Penny’s direction.

“You gonna figure it out” When I look down I see Mav’s phone on the counter, and I remain silent, maybe Penny didn’t notice.

Well, she did.

When she gives me my beer she locks her eyes on his phone and holds a laugh in her throat, after she rings the bell and the whole bar celebrates. Free round to everyone, poor Maverick... He is so confused that I can’t hold a laugh anymore, Maverick looks at me with wide eyes.

“You knew that?”.

“The plate is right there, Maverick. I thought you knew how to read”.

He rolls his eyes.

“How’s your family?”.

“Oh they are okay, my mom is just a bit recluded after grampa died”.

“Viper was a great man. No wonder why his grandkid is such a smart one. The last time I saw you, you were…”.

“Fifteen, I guess. It’s been so much time” I take one more sip of the beer and get up “I’ll be right back, don’t run away”.

The bathrooms are close to the piano, as always I tried to get there fast enough to not be disturbed by anyone, and when I was almost reaching it a tall man passed in front of me and we almost collided, he looked at me above his sunglasses a bit confused.

“Sorry”, I raised my eyebrows with an apologetic expression, I was trying to not be disturbed, but I ended up disturbing someone, life’s irony.

The blonde guy kept staring at me, and he hung up his sunglasses on the collar of his shirt.

“I’m pretty sure I know you from somewhere”.

I tilt my head to the side analyzing his features, the tall stature, the blonde hair, and most important the mustache, I would remember, right? He is pretty recognizable.

“I think I would remember”.

“Oh would you?”, he raised an eyebrow with a teasing tone.

“That’s not- that’s not what I mean. Can I just pass, please?”.

He laughed softly and opened space for me to pass through, I gave him a nod thanking him and went to the tiny bathroom of the bar.

When I returned to the bar a huge crowd was around the piano and an old song was being played. I took a glimpse of who was singing Great Balls of Fire , and he was there, the mustache guy was with the sunglasses on, and all the top guns were around him, I leaned against the bar counter watching all the commotion.

Penny was behind me watching too, I look at her with a little smile, she loved her job, that’s when I noticed that Maverick was nowhere to be found. His seat was empty and a few dollars were laying on the counter.

“What happened?”. Penny pointed to the bell, she must have rung one more time, and Maverick was thrown out of the bar. “I can believe I missed that”.

“And you’re missing that too” Penny pointed in the piano’s direction, the guy was looking above his shoulder in our direction, and when he caught my gaze on him he turned his attention back to the piano.

“Thanks for the drinks, Penny” Even though I knew that Maverick would pay for the drinks I always paid her, she deserve it.

“You barely finished” she answered confused, and she was right, my bottle was far from empty.

“I have a lot of work tomorrow”.

“No. You always use that excuse to run away”.

“No I don’t”, Yes I do.

“You’re gonna sit here and finish that bottle”.

“Hmm, you sound like my mom” Without taking my eyes off her I took the bottle in my hands, and took a sip. “Happy now?”.

She nodded satisfied.

I stayed there drinking and watching the people singing happy and full of life, I wonder when was the last time I did that.

Although I loved the bar, sometimes the huge crowd made me feel watched, and followed, that is just in my mind but I can’t stop thinking that way.

Someone sat on the bench next to me when I finished my bottle.

“Two beers, please” a voice that I recognize asked Penny and she quickly put the bottles on the counter, when I realized one of them was being offered to me. “I’m Bradley”.

“Are you trying to get me drunk, mister Bradley? ‘Cause I can guarantee you, it won’t happen”.

“Peace offering, what you’d think?”.

I frowned at him, I could feel Penny’s blue eyes on the back of my neck, so I gladly accepted.

“I think this will do, thank you”.

Taking a second look at him, he is familiar to me. Me and my terrible face recognition, ugh, I hate this feeling. He notices me staring at him for too many seconds.

“What?” he asks softly.

“I think I know you. I just don’t know from where”.

“Any guesses?”.

“No. You?”.

“I don’t know either, but I’m sure I know you. I never forget I face”.

“ Weird ,” we say at the same time and I laughed softly. “Though I don’t mind if you stare at me a little longer” he continues.

“Oh so you’re really trying to get me drunk, silly of me thinking you were a decent man,” I said ironically and a laugh in the end, Bradley laughed too.

Next Chapter

#rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw #miles teller #top gun #top gun: maverick #top gun maverick #rooster #rooster fanfic

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angelicallyblack · 3 years ago

Note

I'm not sure how to explain this but Ana de Armas in the Deep Water trailer and most of her photo shoots has "hot young 2nd or 3rd wife" energy and it is goals. I really want to give off the same vibe with my look and the way I carry myself.

An ask after my own heart!

I watched (and re watched) that movie for her only. The way she looks and carries herself (for the most part) is everything!

One of my favorite things about Ana De Armas is that she makes shorter hair look so sexy and sultry. Contrary to popular belief, but not everyone looks better with longer hair. I love to see women sporting styles that actually suit them so don't feel obligated to wear long locks. If you've always wanted to try shorter hair, go for it! It might make you look sexier.

She wears a lot of black! Mostly sultry dresses that can be dressed up for an evening out or down for an evening in. Tasteful cleavage. Tasteful amount of leg showing. Dresses that show off her figure without being vulgar.

If she isn't wearing black, then she wears neutral tones. That's something that I noticed a lot in the movie. Lots of black or variations of brown. And when she isn't dressing like a sultry wife, she's very put together and reserved. Even her hair will be pulled back into a bun with a few fly always. Trench coats, dress pants, cardigans! But there will still be something extra. The sweater will have the sleeves pushed up or that long dress + sweater combo will be paired with sexy heels.

Her jewelry is very simple. Unless you can afford an actual Cartier love bracelet, look into an impressive dupe. Her rings are basic gold or silver bands and she's not one for gaudy jewelry. She likes for the focus to be on her clothes and body tbh.

https://youtu.be/QwC55QL3B3A

youtube

Because she likes for her clothes and body to be the focus, she keeps her makeup fairly simple too. No heavy eye shadow or contour. The makeup is very natural looking except for 2 things. Lips and lashes! Ana has gorgeous eyes and they really play with that by packing on the mascara and making sure those lashes look luscious. Buy some falsies and/or invest in a really good mascara. Rosy lip products too! I'm a sucker for a nice deep berry lip color because I think it looks great against my darker skin but it really stands out on skin like hers.

As for how you carry yourself, have confidence. That's the first key.

Melinda (Ana's character) is very confident in herself. Both in her looks and her personality. She's sure of herself and even confidently told her husband that if he were married to anyone else, he'd be bored. She knows that she's attractive in both mind and body, and she knows how to have men eating out of the palm of her hand if she desires it. Her husband was willing to give her free reign in their marriage just so they'd stay married hello!

She's bold! She has no problem being the center of attention and will happily start playing the piano or get on the dance floor if it'll bring her joy. Because she was bold, and feeling secure in her relationship with her husband, she was also bold in her "extracurricular activities" too. She felt no need to hide or feel ashamed for what she felt she was allowed to do.

She's all about experiences. Melinda had a lot of lovers and lot of culture and that was because she traveled and talked to people and tried new things. She was taking piano lessons and going to fancy clubs and trying new restaurants. She had many paramours throughout her life and we saw that they were happy to come back into her life. She was very set on living her life to the fullest.

In a nutshell, she's "untamable". She's that woman that men have to have even if for the sole purpose of trying to lock her down. I mean, that's basically what happened with her husband. Possessing her was more important to him than having her respect 💀 Who cares if she made a cuckold out of him? It's his ring on her finger 🤷🏾‍♀️

Take this advice with a grain of salt please because if you're familiar with the book, Melinda's antics is how she winded up dead!

#answered #deep water #ana de armas

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chil2de · 3 years ago

Text

hi yes the benimaru fic i mentioned earlier— fire force fandom will you let me in please??🥺🥺 i don’t know what i’m dealing with fanbase wise mmfldjfj sometimes it feels like i’m head over heels for bens by myself so... i’ll drop this here for now.. see how it goes and i’ll continue w/ a second part if ff isn’t dead

nsfw themes throughout, so please read my disclaimer if you’re new. enjoy :)

w.c: 1.7k, characters: 9.6k (incl spaces)

there’s a certain sluggish quality that plagues your movements. it’s not fatigue or incompetence. or so benimaru would hope.

his mix matched gaze glosses over your unnecessary movements. that extra exhale you hiss, the additional bat of your eyelashes and the excessive perspiration that drips onto the earth below.

“stop.” he commands, tone low and stern as it pierces through the open air.

“huh? captain shinmon, i’m fine. we can keep going.” you huff through laboured breaths, pausing to gasp and drink in the plentiful oxygen around you.

“it’s one thing if you’re overworking your muscles. it’s another if you’re running a fever. go inside.”

“b-but captain-“

benimaru shoots you a dead stare, keeping his statement rooted deep where he stands.

judging by the bruises that adorn your knees, you know better than to disobey the captain.

“waka! have you seen (l/n)?” konro lingers in the doorframe of the main communal area, gaze scanning for one of his colleagues.

“she’s in her room. why?”

“her room? she has a few errands to run. is she feeling okay?”

“she’s running a fever.” benimaru exhales, shifting to get up from the table. he lightly scratches the back of his neck, adorning that usual aloof facial expression.

“in the middle of summer? how’d that happen?” konro chuckles through a small glimpse of bewilderment. of course he’d be concerned for one of his best recruits.

“hell if i know. what do we need? i’ll head out.”

if anything, benimaru is probably the sole reason why you’re running a fever. why he subjected to railing you underneath water that felt like it was nearing sub-zero was beyond you. it’s not like he’s about to admit he enjoys fucking his special little fire soldier. how he relishes and engrains the sight of your fucked out facial expression deep into his head, burning the image into his retinas. shit, you wouldn’t be surprised if the reason why he sometimes spaces out is because of you.

it’s always been blatantly obvious that you’re the captain’s favourite, no matter how much he denies it and how many glares he shoots at the people from other companies. you’re always left apologising for his behaviour, attempting to keep a straight face.

for the one time you dragged him out to patrol with you, and the amount of incessant whining, complaints and bribes you offered your captain, after a full month of lovely slow burn he decided to come along with you. he just up and left, had the audacity to turn around and ask you why you’re still standing there. benimaru always kept his distance to yours close, in fact the separation was almost minimal. you could feel his shoulders ghost over you.

every time he noticed someone staring at your figure for a little bit too long to be deemed appropriate, he hissed a scoff of distaste. at around the third or fourth person, you were already forced to deal with his short temper.

“what the hell are you gawking at? mind your damn business.”

but sure. apparently you’re not his favourite.

he can scoff and complain all he wants, but that won’t stop him even now from lazily snaking his hand around to his favourite baby girl’s waist. to him, this seems like the most normal thing.

“how else is she going to stand upright? she’s all stick and bones, the wind will knock her right over.”

okay, benimaru. you keep telling yourself that. even when his fingers feel an itch every time they’re not touching a part of your skin. he tends to get a whole lot more mouthy and irritable every time you’re not around, too.

hell, even his own townsfolk pick up on the fact that he’s out and about more. rounds that he always left to the lesser important underlings became more commonplace, especially with you by his side.

but the things that go on behind closed doors?

his peppermint red eyes that haunt your mind, infiltrating your very thoughts. you could be minding your business, going on about your day until you get an abrupt flicker of his mundane tic-tac-toe gaze staring up at you from in between your thighs.

you could be taking care of hinata and hikage, entertaining their antics when you feel the weight of benimaru’s stare burn holes into your uniform.

you could be doing your daily sparring with the captain. in the zone, breath held and blood stream steady until you remember the feel of his hot tongue trailing along the side of your neck. for someone who seems to be stuck in a perpetual state of sadness, you always catch the arrogant smirk that pulls at his lips.

“thinking of something?” he’ll cock his eyebrows, using the distraction to take a jab to your gut.

you groan, stirring around in your bed. you hate him, hate that stupid half lidded gaze of his. you hate how soft his wavy jet black locks are. the way the strands tug and bend whenever you try to yank his face away from your cunt. you run your fingers through your hair in a valiant yet futile attempt to free your thoughts from your captain. it’s only three o’clock in the afternoon, and you haven’t done anything but reminisce about your lover for the past hour and a half.

a meek and uneven sigh hisses from your lips. your eyes screw open and you flinch at the hard sunlight that pours in from the window. as you use the inner portion of your elbow to shield your gaze, you catch glimpse of a very familiar figure in the doorway.

“captain shinmon?” you inquire, propping yourself up onto your elbows. he closes the door behind him. you’re certain that you looked like a loyal dog sat panting and wagging its tail upon discovering the return of their owner.

“excited to see me?” he remarks in a flat tone, opening the grocery bag he’s carrying before setting a few things down onto your nightstand. it’s mostly medicine, though he snags a few of your favourite snacks and drinks. there’s also one of those fascinating green tea bottles that you buy at the vending machines, except they’re served piping hot.

“how’re you feeling?”

“i told you i was going to get sick if we had the water that cold.” you huff, averting your gaze in a fit.

“not my problem you can’t take a little temperature difference”

“a little? that shit was freezing! how the hell can you take water that cold?”

“how can you not?”

you chuckle a little, shifting to stare up at the ceiling.

“don’t you have paperwork to do?”

“you know i don’t do paperwork. sure as hell not gonna start doing it now.” benimaru huffs, kicking his boots off by the door. you can hear his clothes rustling and your head snaps to face him. he shoots you a glare, as though to scold you. it’s dripping on his face. ‘really? you’re so eager.’

“move up.” he cocks his head to the side, motioning for you to move over. you shift up, room spinning a little too much for your tastes. the mattress dips with his weight and his right arm (our left) reflexively hangs in the air for you to dip your head into the crook of where his shoulder and collarbone meet. he discards his navy kimono, the article of clothing hangs on one of the hooks at the back of your door. it’s probably not much comfort for him to be relaxing in a bed with half of his uniform still on.

you squish your face against his hard chest, head rising and falling in time with his breathing. the said arm relaxes and his hand rests against your shoulder. subsequently, you realise this is the first time you’ve seen him fully without his kimono on. at the very least, he’d still have the other sleeve on.

benimaru notices your blatant staring at his other arm. he can’t comprehend why you’d gawk at it now, since he’s used it plenty of times to choke you.

he hums a small ‘hm’ in question, asking you what you’re so fascinated about. you can feel his voice thrum and rock against his chest, it sends small shivers licking your body that he doesn’t miss.

“you look so funny without your kimono on. why don’t you wear it like this more often?” you drag your nails softly against his biceps. there’s a small groan that hisses from him. as you await his response, you outline a large vein that runs from his upper arm and trails down all the way to his wrist.

“i get cold easily.”

“then why did you take a shower with me?”

“are you hearing yourself?”

surely a little bit of his body temperature was enough to sacrifice. even if it meant he was sneezing a little bit and shivering afterwards.

“seriously? you can take a tranquiliser but you can’t stand a little cold?”

“you’ll make a shitty wife if you can’t even keep me warm.”

“beni!” you hiss at benimaru in appaul, craning your face up to guffaw at him. the manners on him sometimes are despicable.

you pout, shifting your upper weight to flick benimaru in between his eyebrows. he screws his face in mutiny, lips curled into a scowl.

you and him both know that if it were anyone else flicking him like that, they’d be sent crashing through six different blocks of houses down the street.

“oi.” he warns you, tutting.

“konro come by and work some voodoo magic bullshit on you? ‘cause you’re testing your luck by pissing me off. you’re such a menace when you’re sick, it’s unbelievable.”

you hum in awe, inching your face closer towards his. there’s a wave of mockery that paints your face green and you can only laugh at the unrest that swirls in benimaru’s eyes.

he won’t have his pet talking down to him like that. no, no. that just won’t do.

“oh? really? you want me to do it again?” you flash him a cocky smirk, digits curled into a flicking position. you rest the bridge of your middle finger against benimaru’s forehead, slicking some of his charcoal stained locks out the way.

his left hand flies to catch your hand in an instant. with just two of his fingers, he can wrap himself around your wrist. his touch is assertive, firm. he can drag you the fuck away from him as he pleases, but there’s no real malice or force behind him just yet.

“yeah? try me.” he barks, peering down at you through his lashes.

you just might.

#?? i hope he sounds okay?#his dialogue was extremely finicky to me #i’ve heard lots of people complain that their or someone elses beni sounded ooc so ihope thats not the case here #benimaru shinmon #benimaru x you #benimaru x y/n #benimaru x reader #fire force x y/n #fire force x reader #fire force x you #fire force #fire force imagines #fire force self insert #fire force smut #fire force hcs #fire force headcanons

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portpebble · 2 years ago

Note

Argooo

My overall opinion on the character: The og. The blueprint. The man, the myth, the legend. You go into the Pebble Encyclopedia and look up the definition of "blorbo" and there he is, in all his glory, Argonaut Keene, the one and only. Thank you for changing my life "I'm literally afraid of catching scurvy at random intervals"

One virtue they have: This man is. SO loyal. To his family and to his friends and to every person he meets. He's so willing to just put himself out there and wear his heart on his sleeve and protect those he cares out no matter what. You give him a single compliment and you see an achievement that says "Argo Keene will now die for you". He learns someone is being an ass to his friends and goes "What me to kill that guy for you?".

One flaw they have: Complete inability to Talk About His Feelings. From the very beginning he's brushing things off that very clearly hurt him and saying it doesn't matter and yeah it's fine if you ignore him it's really fine (GRABS HIM) KING. IT'S NOT FINE. HAVE A CONVERSATION. He's so used to being on his own his whole life that now he has people he can reach out to he just Doesn't.

Favorite moment from their arc: Him reading the book to Fitzroy while he was cursed FUCK man, god. God. And also the entire trial of the Commodore, the absolute vindication I get from seeing him finally stand up for himself and be stood up for too AAAAUUUUGHHHH

Least favorite moment from their arc: I will admit I never finished the podcast but I wish they did more with Grey being in his head and making his RSD go Demon Mode. Cause even with Fitzroy botting him outta there, those thoughts aren't going to go away. There is so much potential there. Give me Argo: Fucked Up Edition.

One relationship they have with another character: Argo and Shebrie will always be everything to me (punches a hole through the wall). All they had was each other man and she cared so much about him and she was such a good parent and she wanted nothing more than for him to have a good life and to be taken care of AUGH. And he misses her with every fiber of his being and is locked in a perpetual state of grief because he never got closure, it was always about revenge and he dedicated his whole existence to getting that for her but all she wants is for him to be HAPPY AND AND AND. AND THEN the quest for revenge leads him to Fitzroy and the Firbolg and he DOES get to be happy and loved again and mnfjghfksm.,a,ms,

One relationship I'd like to see explored from this character: Can Rainer and him be friends. Please. Please. I think having a girlbestie could fix him. And also I just want more Rainer. Rainer my everything.

What I would have liked to see happen with them in the media: Again didn't finish the podcast but I think it would be interesting to explore like. Just because he's killed the Commodore and gotten his revenge doesn't mean all his problems are fixed. Cause he's left with What Now. And revenge isn't going to magically make his grief or his trauma or the FUCKING RSD go away. Basically what I'm saying is that one thing I would have liked to see happen with him is him going the fuck to therapy.

#I MISS HIM EVERY DAY #taz graduation #argo keene #asks for em #pebbles pals

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lin-nin · 3 years ago

Text

Tribulation & Tenderness - Chapter 13

Ship: Main Technoblade x Reader, some Dream x Reader Plot: You're a princess in a Kingdom suffering a years long famine. In a desperate attempt to help your people, you accept one simple offer: Marriage to the crown prince of a neighboring kingdom. Anything to help your people survive. Surely it can't be too bad, can it? Chapter List: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 Disclaimer: Cross-posted on Wattpad (discontinued) and Ao3. This is based off of everyone's CHARACTERS. I do not write fanfic based off the actual people.

Chapter 13: Until My Heart Stops Beating

< | Previous Chapter

The rest of the day prior to your wedding was spent in partial tension. You never found out what the favor Techno had called for was exactly, but you didn’t mind. Truthfully, you were increasingly more focused on your wedding. It was exciting and nerve-wracking at the same time, and you practically had to force yourself to sleep that night. You awoke far earlier than normal because of it, moving around your room anxiously.

You eventually lowered yourself into your bath, taking care to make sure you were clean. You let the steam from the water curl around you, sighing and trying your best to relax. Thinking about today caused your stomach to erupt in butterflies and a smile to spread across your face. You truly hoped today went well. Eventually you stood up, stepping out of the tub and sliding into a shift.

There was a soft knock on your door after a few moments of you just sitting, and you called whoever it was in. Eret slid into the room, offering you a smile. A bundle of white fabric sat in his arms, and a few servants followed behind him with various things. “Good morning to our bride,” He practically cooed, motioning towards a servant to the table between chairs. She followed, setting down a tray where he pointed. She hurriedly bowed, leaving the room soon after. You watched Eret settle the fabric onto your bed, the remaining servants following in setting down boxes of other stuff. He sent them off, before turning to you.

“Morning Eret,” You murmured, returning his earlier smile. He seemed content, motioning towards the tray of food.

“Go ahead and eat, we’ll start with your hair. Are you nervous?” You reached for the cup of tea, bringing it to your lips and adjusting yourself so Eret had access to your hair.

“Very. Also excited, but I imagine it’s to be expected,” You managed to explain, letting Eret run a brush through your hair. You took your time with the food, enjoying the way Eret tended to your appearance. You didn’t normally allow yourself to get pampered like this, so you wouldn’t mind doing it this once.

“I imagine so. It’ll all go fine, though. It’ll probably go by better than you expect.” He made sure your hair was laying perfectly, humming under his breath as he did.

“Hopefully it goes smoothly, I do have some concerns though,” You sighed out the words, thinking about Dream. You hoped he would behave, truly. You would be extremely upset if he didn’t.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Eret reassured. You watched him move towards the fabric on the bed, peering at the lace he picked up. The veil. Your stomach erupted into nervous butterflies at the sight of it, examining delicate lace as he brought it over. The edges were thorned vines, leaves of white lace lying beneath light blue ribbon roses. You marveled it as he brought it close, unable to help your smile.

“You really outdid yourself,” You couldn’t stop the praise from leaving your mouth, reaching out to run your fingers along it.

“Just wait until you see the full dress. Turn your head.” You did as he instructed, turning away from him so he could start setting the pins of the veil into your hair. The lace tickled your shoulders, but you did your best to keep still. He softly grasped your shoulders once he was finished, giving them a squeeze. You turned to look at him, and he smiled at you. He disappeared to the bed once more, rustling through the boxes and bringing one over. You peered into it curiously, eyeing the roses inside. They were fresh, white ones from the garden. You laughed softly, turning to face him so he could situate them in your hair.

Eret lined them up along the edge of your veil, making sure they sat perfectly in your hair. The pins would be a pain to take out later tonight, but you didn’t entirely mind it right now. “Are you finished eating?” He questioned once he finished, moving to grab another box before you replied. You nodded when he returned, watching him pull out kohl from the box.

You instinctively closed your eyes, letting him line them with the makeup without question. He softly murmured when you were good to open them. He took his time applying a stain to your cheeks and lips, stepping back to examine his work. He sighed softly, smiling at you. “You’re going to be a vision,” He murmured, making your cheeks flush.

“You think so?” You questioned, acutely aware of the fluttering of your stomach.

“I know so. Come on, let’s get you in your dress.” He motioned you to stand up, and you did so on shaking legs. The anxiety regarding your marriage was starting to leak through now, and you couldn’t hide it. Eret offered you a reassuring look, sorting through the bundles of fabric settled on your bed. He grabbed one of sections of fabric, holding it out to you. You examined it, easily identifying the petticoat and slipping it on over your shift.

Next he moved towards you, holding out another section of fabric. The actual dress. The sleeves were made of tulle, a light blue in color, flaring out away from ribbon roses at the elbows made to match the ones on your veil. The base of the dress was simple. White, with a deep scooping neckline. He helped guide it over your head, situating it around your shift. You couldn’t help but watch as he adjusted the tulle on the skirt. Ribbon Roses decorated the scalloped edges of the tulle, exposing the white skirt beneath.

The stay was next, matching the dress with the white fabric embroidered delicately with blue roses. Eret’s brows were furrowed as he meticulously tightened the ribbons on it, making sure it sat perfectly. Once he had, he stepped back to examine you with a soft sigh. You flushed a little beneath the appraising gaze. He moved around again, grabbing a simple pair of shoes and stooping to slide them onto your feet. Moving in the dress almost felt weird, despite it not being too different in make than your most formal dresses. Perhaps it felt heavy with the meaning.

“One last touch,” Eret said, moving towards the final box on the bed. You had given him the earrings Techno gave you, as well as the necklace from Dream, for him to keep a hold of until today. You knew that was what sat within the box, watching him gingerly pick up the necklace to drape it around your neck. He tilted your head, sliding in the earrings and stepping back to give you a full look over.

“Oh, you’re gonna be the envy of so many,” He praised, and you shifted almost self consciously. The fact that you were wearing this dress caused you to fidget nervously.

“It doesn’t feel real,” You murmured, shifting around to search out the mirror you had. The rustling of your skirts felt loud in your ears, eyes roving over your appearance. It felt like something from a book, something so etherally unreal.

“It is, I promise. I’ll go get your brother,” He whispered, stepping towards the door. You watched him, before turning your eyes back to your reflection. What would today hold for you? The ceremony was straight forward, but the celebration itself felt so unsure. Anything could happen.

A soft knock resounded at your door, causing you to turn once more. George pushed open the door, carefully shutting it behind him. He stared at you for several long moments, seeming at a loss for words. It was probably weird, seeing you about to be married.

“It’s so hard to believe you’re my baby sister,” He practically echoed your thoughts, walking towards you. You laughed softly, nodding along.

“I guess I’m really not a baby anymore, am I?” You questioned, watching as he placed his hands on your shoulders. You leaned ever so slightly into the touch, a smile tugging your lips.

“No. Are you sure you still want this?” He watched you closely, looking for any change in your expression.

“Of course. Techno is kind, and his family is enjoyable. I have easily found friends here, and I know I can just as easily make a happy life. I will always miss you and Dream, but we’ll all move on.” You gently grabbed one of his hands, squeezing it tightly. George smiled, seeming almost sad.

“The castle won’t ever be the same. You’ve grown up so much.” He returned the squeeze, and you could only nod. You did yearn for the ease you felt of your teenage years in the castle. The lack of responsibilities you had felt, being able to run around and goof off with Dream. However you felt more freedom now than you had there. It was a new feeling, but a welcome one.

“I’ll miss some parts of it, but I’m excited for my future here. Everyone is so kind,” You constantly reassured him, letting him move you away from the mirror.

“Eret said he was going to check on Technoblade, but he’d tell us when everything was ready. Are you ready for this?” He settled into one of the chairs, pulling you into the one beside him.

“As ready as I can be. I’m nervous. There’s a lot happening today,” You folded your hands in your lap, legs bouncing.

“I can imagine. You put a lot of work into planning this, didn’t you?” You sat up straight, having problems trying to relax. The nerves were unbearable.

“Sort of, I just had input. Eret handled a lot of the main plans. Him, Wilbur, and Nihachu deserve more credit than I do.” You could hardly take any of the responsibility. You didn’t put in much actual work, just feedback.

“Still, it’s not everyday you get married. Everything will go fine,” George reassured, giving you a smile. Truly, you didn’t know what you would do without him. Probably fall apart, you imagined. The two of you chattered softly as you waited, George attempting to keep your nerves soothed. It wasn’t too long before there was a knock at the door, Eret popping his head in.

“Everything’s ready now. Are you ready?” His voice was gentle, and you offered a soft smile.

“As ready as I can be,” You sighed, standing up. George followed, lingering right beside you.

“You know where to go, right? I’ll go ahead and wait there, give the two of you a few more moments,” Eret spoke softly, as if anything louder would break the calmness. You appreciated it, whispering your thanks as he left. George turned to you, taking your hands in his.

“The wedding will go wonderfully, I know it. Mom and Dad send their best wishes. It’s hard to believe my baby sister is all grown up and getting married now.” The way he spoke and squeezed your hands had tears springing to your eyes. They threatened to spill as he pulled you in for a hug, kissing your forehead. You carefully laid your head against his shoulder, clinging to him.

“I’m really going to miss our garden walks,” you whispered, and he nodded.

“I will too. Don’t keep them waiting, though. I don’t want your husband to come looking for you.” George finally pulled away from you, leading you towards the door to your room. You followed, taking a deep breath. Silence lapsed between the pair of you as you wandered down the hallway and stairs. You were led through the courtyard, towards the garden. Nerves pooled in your stomach, and you hoped it didn’t show.

George gripped your hand in reassurance, walking with you down the path. Eyes were on you, and you were very aware of it. Among those eyes, though, were Techno’s. At the other end of the aisle. Hands folded in front of him, a pale cape fastened around his shoulders. A blue sash was tied around his waist, similar in color to the blue accents on your dress. The emerald rose brooch sat against the stark white of his shirt, clearly visible from the other end. The black prongs of his crown stood tall, a heavy contrast to the pink locks fanned around it. His braid was ornamented with gold chains, jewels interspersed within the chains.

In short, he was definitely a regal sight standing there. You were reluctant to let go of George’s hand in exchange for Techno’s, yet did all the same. You briefly watched your brother move away, taking a spot beside Dream. You watched your friend for a few moments, shifting beneath his gaze. His gaze was dark, and he offered you a smile. You supposed it was meant to be encouraging, but it never quite reached his eyes. You didn’t care to think too much on it, attention focusing back in on Techno.

He was staring down at you, a soft look in his brown eyes. That helped quell the nerves in your chest, and you offered him a smile as soft as the look he gave you. A moment of peace, almost to yourselves, as the Officiant was droning on beside the two of you.

“...to unite two separate souls into that of one. This braid of ribbon will signify their unity and bind them together, from now until eternity.” The man lifted a thick braid of ribbon, made of three colors: red, white, and black. Small vines of flowers were interwoven with it, and it was certainly pretty. Techno kept one hand with yours, the other taking one end of the ribbon braid from the wrinkled hand holding it out to him.

“Do you swear, on all that you hold dear, that you will protect this woman with your entire being? That you will give her everything you have, in wealth and love?” He rattled as Techno began gingerly weaving the braid around your joined hands. It caused butterflies to stir in your stomach, just watching it. His eyebrows were even knitted together in concentration, the very tip of his tongue peaking out of his mouth.

“I swear on it all, that I will care for her until I draw my last breath.” There was a warmth to his voice that had your cheeks flushing, a smile tugging the corners of your lips up further. You carefully took the braid from him when prompted, weaving it around your hands as well.

“Do you swear, to all you hold close, that you will support this man with your entirety? That through everything, injury and health, sickness and wealth, you will stay by his side?” You finished weaving the braid as he spoke, the two ends hanging loose beneath your hands.

“I swear it. I’ll be by his side until my heart stops beating.” Your voice rang clear, and the officiant seemed content with it.

“Then I will tie the loose ends of this braid. This represents the joining of your two wayward souls joining together to be one. In the presence of the sky and the earth, the trials of water and fire, you will forever be one. Even beyond mortality, you will always be with one another, through this life and the next.” As he spoke, he very carefully grasped the ends of the braid. They were tied together, locking their hands in a grasp. You couldn’t help the grin that split your face at that, turning to look up at Techno.

He offered you a soft smile, taking a step closer to you and carefully gripping your chin with his thumb and forefinger. Your stomach practically exploded into nervous butterflies. The kiss. You had forgotten the kiss. He leaned down, lips pressing to yours firmly. It was just a kiss of obligation, a part of the ceremony, but it had heat crawling over your cheeks and down your neck. He lingered, fingers gently squeezing yours. You couldn’t help but respond to the squeeze, stepping a little closer to him.

He was pulling back after a few heartbeats, smiling at you once more and turning towards the people. You couldn’t help the squeak that escaped you as he held up your bound hands, causing a few of them to cheer. Part of you wanted to hide, but you simply stuck as close to Techno’s side as you could.

“Let’s party!!” Tommy’s voice rang out from the crowd. He was clearly exhausted with all the ceremonial things, though you weren’t entirely sure you blamed him. Weddings weren’t too exciting, though your nerves would beg to differ. You felt like a frazzled mess on the inside, and you still had an entire day to go.

You and Techno stood back, watching the crowd filter towards the ball room. You glanced to the ribbon binding your hands, acutely aware of the feeling of Techno's fingers slotted between yours. You supposed that you were giving the boys time to set up for the first dance. You just accepted the silence, practically leaning against your husband.

"After the dance we'll be able to take the ribbon off. You won’t be tied to me all day." Amusement laced his voice, and you couldn’t help but laugh a little.

"It's not all bad. A little inconvenient, but all in all it's fine." You looked up to him with a smile, which he returned. Your free hand moved, toying with the ends of the ribbon. The pair of you only stood there for a little longer before you heard Tommy shouting for the pair of you to hurry up. You couldn’t help but laugh. Did he ever stop having energy? You followed Techno along the path winding through the garden, the soft chatter from the ballroom floating over the veranda.

"You did it, Big Man! You're a married man!" Tommy cheered when the pair of you walked in, slinging an arm around both of your shoulders. "Now that this is my sister-in-law," the way he said it, reeling you close to him with a shit eating grin told you this was going to be entertaining, "I can fight her now, right?"

A loud laugh bubbled past your lips at the antics, watching Techno huff and swat at his brother with his free hand. "We'll see." This seemed to be enough to placate Tommy for the time being, sending him scurrying off towards where Tubbo and Wilbur were messing with the instruments in the corner. You watched the blond pester his brother and best friend, a fond smile on your face. He was quite excitable about this all, but it's not like the pair of you had been complete strangers over the past few weeks.

Besides your common training with Techno, you would often spend time sneaking about the castle with Tommy and Tubbo, quietly helping them with all sorts of trouble that they got into. Not to mention the time you spent in the libraries by yourself, or the gardens with Eret. While in the library there were times Wilbur or Philza would visit you. You never minded it, though. Their silent companionship was warm and comfortable. Yet Techno always seemed to hesitate when it came to letting you train with his family. Surely they couldn’t be worse than him- or better, you supposed.

“Spare a coin for your thoughts?” Techno pulled you from your musings of his family, your gaze moving to him instead. You only spared a glance to the others before fully focusing on Techno.

“Just thinking about your family. How you’ve never let me really train with them. Only letting them watch. Is there a certain reason?” Your voice was soft, not willing anyone to hear your words. He paused any movement, seeming to clearly think over the answer. Or perhaps how to best frame it. You weren’t sure why he was thinking so hard, but you could practically see the wheels turning as he did.

“Tommy is reckless. Tubbo is… alright with fighting, a bit clumsy but enthusiastic. Philza is a much higher combat level than I would want you to fight just yet. As for Wilbur…” He trailed off, practically staring off behind your head. You turned, following his gaze to his older brother. The brown-haired prince was toying with the instrument, muttering to Tubbo before looking at Techno with a grin. He gave a thumbs up, and you could see Techno incline his head in a subtle nod before turning to you. “Well, Wilbur is encouraging us to dance.”

If you squinted, you swore you could see the faintest trace of pink on Techno’s cheeks. However you didn’t care to squint too hard, simply positioning the pair of you to dance. He squeezed your still joined hands, other hand hovering momentarily over the middle of your back before settling. Almost as if he had been unsure of the action. Once the two of you had settled comfortably into the position, the soft strings of Wilbur’s instrument filled the room, paired with the gentle notes from Tubbo at the piano. You were half focused on the music, partially focused on your husband. He pulled you along the floor effortlessly, spinning you with a practiced elegance you should have been expecting.

“Why not Wilbur?” You prodded again, only when you had fallen in line with the music as well as Techno. A soft sigh passed his lips as he gazed at you, eyes darting around to the people who were watching you.

“It’s complicated. Best we don’t go into it now.” His tone left no room for argument, a voice he rarely used with you- only when the pair of you trained. You responded with your own sigh, a little disappointed. You supposed you understood, but that didn’t make you any less curious. What was it that made Techno not want you to train with Wilbur?

“Later, then.” You were a little reluctant to agree. You trusted him to tell you whatever it was later. You would be rather upset if he didn’t. The two of you lapsed into silence as you danced. You were so acutely aware of many things. The gazes on you. The pressure of the ribbon braid on your hand. The feel of Techno’s hand on your back. The way you caught Dream’s dark gaze whenever he was in your line of sight. It was a lot, and truly you weren’t sure what to make out of it all.

It felt almost as soon as the dance and music had started, it was ending. Applause poured around you and you fidgeted. You were used to attention, but the attention you were receiving at your wedding was not something you could have ever prepared yourself for. Techno pulled away from you some, almost awkwardly, before reaching for the ribbon. “Why don’t we get this off and you can go dance with your brother. He looks restless.” You turned to look at George, who did in fact appear to be restless. He was shifting, eyes on the pair of you. You offered up a smile, holding up a finger to tell him you would be a moment.

The ribbon peeled from your hands after a few moments. Techno gingerly folded it, tucking it into his pocket. You smiled at him as well, rubbing your hand from where the ribbon had pressed into it. “Go, I’ll play a song. Since I’m required to.” He didn’t necessarily sound happy and you could only laugh.

“Alright. I’ll see you when I get a break. I know everyone is going to want to dance.” You slipped away from Techno to instead make way to George, grinning at him.

“Don’t look so nervous,” You teased, nudging him. He gave a shaking laugh.

“I can’t help it. There’s something almost tense about this whole thing. It feels so formal.” You understood what he meant. You knew marriages in Kinoko were different to this. They were more casual, even for royal families.

“It is strange. Almost overwhelming, isn’t it?” George had nodded in response. “Well then, Crown Prince Nofton,” you began to tease, a lopsided grin on your face. A reminder that you still were, in a way, his little sister he grew up with. “Are you going to keep me waiting?” You held out a hand, arching an eyebrow at him.

“My apologies, Crown Princess Minraelas. Would you honor me, your dearest brother, with a dance on your wedding day?” He bowed dramatically, grin matching your own. His tone was lofty, poking subtle fun at the way the courts of larger countries held themselves. You simply giggled as he took your hand, gently holding it and your shoulder with his other. “It even seems your husband will be playing a song for us.” He was struggling to contain his laughter, and you were barely managing.

The low sound of a violin drifted into the room, causing your head to turn to look at Techno. His eyes were closed as he ran the bow along the strings of the instrument, fingers moving against frets with clear familiarity. For all the resistance he had put up to playing the song, he seemed at peace with it now. You smiled, attention turning back to your brother as he pulled you into the throng of dancing people. "So it would seem," you concluded, letting the pair of you spin gently together as violin notes filled the air.

"You'll still write, won't you?" George had asked again, and you simply laughed softly.

"Always. I promise I'll tell you if I'm ever put into danger." You offered him a reassuring smile and he simply nodded. He seemed content enough, and you knew he had to be. He really was watching you grow up, wasn't he?

"If you don't write, I'm sending our entire army to rescue you." His lips quirked, a breathless laugh escaping him. You couldn't help but laugh as well.

"What makes you think I couldn't hold my own? I'm learning to fight now!" You declared, puffing your chest out just slightly. This elicited another laugh from your brother.

"No offense, but Technoblade handed you your ass. I think you might need the help of an army." You pouted at this, nose wrinkling just a little.

"Well, I doubt it'll ever come to the point of me having to truly fight." You waved it off, shooting him a smile. “I’m well taken care of here. They like me.” You twisted, looking over to where Tubbo was speaking to Tommy. The brunet caught your gaze, brightening and offering you a cheerful wave. You lifted your hand briefly from George’s, returning the wave. Your attention returned to your brother, who simply smiled gently.

“I can tell. I just worry about you being where I can’t see you.” His voice was gentle, hand once more grasping your own. Your gaze softened slightly, head shaking just a little.

“I’m not a little girl anymore, Gogy. I swear to you, I’ll be fine. Happy. Free.” The childhood nickname had rolled off of your tongue with familiarity. A sign of how genuine you were. No formalities. Just two siblings.

He had sighed in response, hugging you tight for a moment. “I know. It’s hard to not see you as one.” You could reluctantly accept that, returning the hug. “I suppose I can’t keep your company for myself. Go, dance with Dream. He probably wants to.”

The words brought your attention to the blond, catching his eye and smiling a little. His gaze seemed conflicted- caught somewhere between soft and affectionate, and hard and frustrated. You tried your best to ignore it, waving him over slightly. He seemed to hesitate, before running his hands down the front of the green tunic he wore and heading your way.

“Princess,” he greeted gently once he was close. Your eyes shone with light-hearted fondness, taking his proffered hand. He tugged you closer to him, one hand curled with yours while the fingers of the other dug slightly into your waist. You shrugged the grip off a little, free hand settling onto his shoulder, fingers fingers brushing the white fur of the cape that sat there.

“For now,” You teased, beaming up at him. Mischief was clear in your grin, letting him whisk you away along the dance floor. His eye flickered with something- too quick for you to notice. Then it was looking over your head, seemingly focusing on someone else. You almost turned to look, but he was soon focused on you. He moved way too fast for you to keep up. It was exhausting, yet you weren't sure you wanted to bother with it right now. Not today.

His fingers grasped your waist tighter. "You're really set on this, aren't you? Are you even sure you truly want to become queen to him? To this nation?" Disgust and irritation laced his words. Hell, he even sounded accusatory. You frowned up at him, squaring your shoulders.

"I've told you this before. I'm going through with this. I'm fine. You and George worry too much. Praelicentiam has treated me well," you reassured. Your fingers smoothed the fur of his cloak, praying it was enough.

He still looked disgruntled, lips tugging into a small scowl. "You know if things go wrong-" he started, but you shook his head to cut him off.

"I can return to Kinoko. I know. You and George have told me this more times than I can count." Your eyes fluttered shut in an attempt to calm yourself. His grip relaxed in the process, tugging you even closer.

"I just worry for you here. You've heard the rumors. I feel like you'd be safer in Kinoko." Where he could watch you. It was left unsaid, but definitely implied. He leaned down, pressing a feather light and affectionate kiss to your forehead. Heat rushed to your cheeks as you made to move away, saved by the clearing of a throat.

"Surely you wouldn't mind if I stole our bride for a dance?" A firm hand sat on your arm, drawing your attention to the blond man who had interrupted. Philza stood there, a kind yet unnerving smile directed to your childhood friend.

Dream narrowed his eye for a moment before he relented, handing you over to the man. "Of course not. I'll talk to you later, princess." The distaste in his voice was palpable, but you were able to ignore it.

"You were starting to look like a deer caught in the middle of a path," Philza pulled your attention to him as he moved with you to the music. You couldn’t help but laugh nervously.

"Dream can be a lot sometimes." Philza had simply inclined his head in acknowledgement as you spoke. Dream always had a way to be intense, and you never deciphered if it was good. It had been that way for the past year. You were hardly given time to dwell on your best friend, though. Instead you were being handed over to Tommy, who seemed far from thrilled. Just behind him you could see Wilbur, throwing him a very pointed look.

He didn't seem to linger with his dance, grumbling the whole time about how he hated these formal events. Much like the child he was. You would only laugh, knocking his ankles with your feet.

Then you were off to Tubbo, who's eyes were just as bright as his grin. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were enjoying my wedding more than I am." It was a lighthearted tease but he couldn't help but sheepishly laugh.

"For now I am, yeah," he acknowledged. You followed his gaze over your shoulder, where Schlatt stood holding a cup of wine. You supposed he wasn't looking forward to dealing with his father. You didn't blame him. Beside Schlatt stood Dream, his eye focused solely on you. The pair seemed quiet, thankfully. The idea of Schlatt talking too much with Dream made your stomach churn. You didn't doubt that Schlatt would be able to make Dream do something stupid- the older man was no doubt irritating.

The music faded to a new song, joined with a new dance partner. Your feet were aching, begging for a chance to sit down. Yet you supposed it was obligatory to dance with people. At least your new family seemed to believe so. Which is why Wilbur was now gliding you across the dance floor. He held himself with a poise very akin to Techno’s, a practiced poise and grace to his movements.

As if the way he held himself as he danced wasn't reminder enough, he couldn't help but joke, "If things had gone differently perhaps I would have been the one to promise you my last breath." He laughed, shooting you an amused smile. You echoed his laugh, briefly pondering how different Praelicentiam may have been.

"We'll never know, shall we? I think I prefer you my brother, anyways." He nodded in agreement, one hand softly patting your hair. It was exhausting, being on your feet this long. You needed to eat.

Eret seemed to realize this as they stepped up to you, holding a hand out. "One dance with me and I'll get you back to Technoblade. You've been dancing awhile." You let your shoulders sag a little.

"Just one dance, then. I'm exhausted." A whine edged into your voice. They laughed and nodded, seeming satisfied once you placed a hand into their's. Their movements were a comfort, in a way. You felt endlessly comfortable with them.

"Do you miss Kinoko?" They questioned after a few moments, making your steps stutter. It wasn't a question you expected from them.

You regained yourself, offering a soft smile. "Of course. It's my home, there's people I love there. It'll always be my home and I'll always yearn for it. The path laid ahead of me led me here, though. This is my home just as much." You loved Kinoko endlessly. Yet you were growing to love Praelicentiam. This was going to be your kingdom one day. You needed to learn to love it and it's people.

Eret seemed to think on your answer, sighing softly. "So long as you find happiness."

"I'll be happy here," you were quick to defend, offering a smile. They relented, and pulled back as the song came to an end.

"Fine, fine. Let's get you off of your feet." You were more than happy to follow Eret as they led you through the mix of people. As if it was even hard to spot Techno, where he stood talking quietly to a short man. You barely got a look at him before you were noticed. The man looked at you from behind glasses before smiling, seeming to disappear into the crowd before you got close. You frowned, lifting an eyebrow at Techno.

"Finally had enough socialization?" His voice called to you once within range. Eret squeezed your shoulder, muttering about how they needed to attend to other matters and disappearing.

"More than enough. Who was that?" You tried to locate the man in the crowd, but he was nowhere you could see. Weird.

“Someone running a favor for me.” It was a bland answer but you supposed there wasn’t much to expect. You simply relaxed into his hand as it settled between your shoulder blades, steering you towards seating. It took everything in your power to not sink into the chair as it was pulled out for you. You had a feeling that now that you were seated, you’d be there for a long while.

Techno settled into the seat beside you, his eyes raking over everyone else. Watching as if he expected something. You followed the gaze, trying to view things as he did. Yet you couldn’t. All you saw was people partying, enjoying their time there. Eret was conversing with George, your older brother struggling to stifle laughter. Wilbur was talking to Nihachu and two people you couldn’t recognize. One was a woman, tall with a mop of curls like you had never seen. The way her fingers curled with Nihachu’s gave you enough clue on who she was. The other was a man, currently laughing over something you wished you could hear. He seemed to be laughing hard, struggling to keep ginger and white locks of hair out of his face.

You sought out the younger two, knowing they would be joined at the hip. It wasn’t too hard. They stood with another- a boy? He looked young in the face, from what you could see given the slightly anxious expression he wore. Light patches of skin quite a few shades lighter littered him, dual colored eyes focusing on Tommy. His hair was like an extreme version of the man who was with Wilbur- yet instead of ginger there was black. As well as several patches of white as opposed to a single tuft. He was certainly a sight to behold and you swore you had never seen him before. You would have remembered him.

You pushed it aside, for now. You sought out the few other people you knew still. Dream was in a corner, arms crossed over his chest as he talked to a guard. You could tell it was a Kinoko guard, but couldn’t tell who. You tried to look harder to figure it out- you grew up with much of the guard- but it was pointless. His back was to you. It would be more worth it to continue your conversation with Technoblade. “You seem to have a lot of people doing favors for you.”

He huffed in laughter beside you, turning his attention from the people. Instead he watched you, amusement bright in brown eyes.”I’m the crown prince. Of course I have a lot of favors being done.”

“What type of favors?” You questioned, kicking your feet just slightly. You wanted to know. As much time as you spent training with Techno, you didn’t know what he did beyond that. He was still as much of a mystery to you as when he walked into Kinoko.

He shook his head, eyes flicking towards the people again. “Things I would prefer you to stay out of unless necessary. Instead of thinking about that, think about food.” You opened your mouth to complain but he was already waving a servant over, mentioning food to them. The boy nodded, turning to go fetch the food.

You let yourself focus on the food. You’d already tried pushing Techno on one subject today and had to leave it alone, you weren’t going to try a second one. It’s not that you weren’t hungry, either. Everything that had happened today had made you hungry. At least the food was good. You were still having to adjust to the amount of food too. Kinoko hadn’t been able to eat like this in quite some time. You wondered if George and Dream felt similarly to the food- though you were sure that Praelicentiam had since begun to send food over.

It was only when you had finished you truly began to wind down. So did much of the celebration. People left the room with stomachs full of wine and good food. You’d have to thank Nihachu for it. In the morning, though. She had already left with her girlfriend. You were eager to join the crowds of people leaving. You were ready to go to sleep.

Which was a problem.

You had been taught for so much of your life what was expected of you on your wedding night. Your mom had made sure of that, unwilling to see her daughter get hurt in ignorance. Yet, it still had a weight settling in your stomach. A rock lodged in your throat. Why was it now that you felt the fear Dream was so insistent you felt? Was it because you didn’t know what to expect from Techno?

You couldn’t help but glance at him, fingers toying with your dress. You honestly hoped it was nothing like training. It made you wince, which pulled his attention to you instead. “Are you tired?” His voice was low. You hesitated, glancing towards the few people who still lingered. George and Dream had both left, as well as Tommy, Tubbo, and their tall friend. So few people were here now. You gave in and nodded. There was no point in sticking around. Techno stood up then, holding a hand out for you to take.

It was natural for you to let him lead you through the castle, despite you already knowing it pretty well. He seemed to want to make sure you got wherever you were going safely. The silence was crushing and tense. You almost felt like you were drowning in it. Could he hear the way your heart thrummed against your rib cage, or how your blood was roaring in your ears.

Yet he passed his chambers entirely, heading towards yours instead. It threw you off. Weren’t you supposed to consummate the marriage? Your confusion must have been evident, because he spoke softly, “You seem exhausted. Get some sleep.” A hand settled on your shoulder, squeezing softly. Then he leaned around you to open the door, leaving you to your thoughts and wondering why he had taken you to your room instead of his.

#mcyt x reader #mcyt #dream smp #dream smp x reader #reader insert #dsmp #dsmp x reader #dream team #technoblade #technoblade x reader #dream x reader #dreamwastaken #kingdom au #sleepy bois inc #sleepy bois family #t&t

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jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue · 4 years ago

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Is there somewhere - BTS royal / bodyguard au Drabble part 4

So after this I was thinking of writing some prequels to the Drabble series before moving ahead with time and the challenges these lovely characters would face ongoing. Same with the CEO drabbles, as always let me know what you think {angst and fluff ahead}

Prev | Next

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You hadn’t seen them for a month. You told yourself you were glad, that it didn’t hurt you that they gave up. You asked them to leave, you would stick by that, and this proved you right.

These things happened for a reason, you tell yourself, and while life was still a dense cloud hanging over you, it didn’t rain. Since that night trouble stopped following you, no one approached you in the clubs, the paparazzi stopped following you, you felt safe again, by yourself without any bodyguards.

“I haven’t seen you in so long Y/n,” your childhood friend sat across from you at a little quaint cafe in the town closest to your castle. You would have invited her to your place but the mess increased tenfold, that being said, you think your father must be sending people to clean while you were out. He hadn’t said anything about it, you were grateful he hadn’t, you weren’t ready to have that conversation with the King. He was always too busy for you, so this gesture came as a shock.

“I’ve missed you Y/n,” Sana says taking your hand in hers and squeezing it earnestly. “I’ve been worried about you.”

“You don’t need to worry I’m okay,” you say reassuringly.

“Y/n it’s a cloudy day and you’re wearing sunglasses,” you take by her sarcasm she doesn’t sound convinced.

“I’ve got a headache that’s all,” you bury your head behind the brunch menu, pretending to look over the options as she hums in response. It had been years but she still knew you well, and this was nothing like you were.

“Who hurt my friend?” She asks reading through your behaviour like she read the newspaper articles about it online, hence the impromptu visit from half a world away despite her own busy schedule.

“Doesn’t matter, it’s in the past,” and yet it’s still so present. The wound might be healing but it was leaving a red swollen scar in its place.

She lets the subject drop noticing how your shield goes up.

“Your bodyguard is really hot, if you wanted to invite him in to join us I wouldn’t mind,” she wiggles her eyebrows playfully, trying to lighten the mood but her words have the opposite effect on you.

“My what?” You breathe, you don’t have bodyguards. You turn to face where her eyes are set behind you and sure enough, outside the glass windows trying to look conspicuous is a man in a suit you’d recognise anywhere. You hate how your heart starts to ache as it beats faster, how there’s a hum of electricity starting to burn under your skin.

“Is that not your bodyguard? You used to talk about them so much, that’s....” she squints her eyes at the male, who bows his head in panic realising he’s been caught. “Jin! Right?”

Every time you FaceTimed Sana one of the boys would be with you, not on the screen unless it was Jin or Jimin but professionally standing out of the cameras range staying with you trying not to smile as you gushed about them with her, begging one of them to say hello. Yoongi and Taehyung were the only ones to ever give in. They would say hello shyly before standing at their post, Jin and Jimin on the other hand would sit on the bed or sofa with you. Jimin would make you blush and tease you while talking to Sana, Jin would tell her all your bad habits and complain about you playfully. Namjoon and Hobi never gave in, you were close to breaking Jungkook’s resolve before he left.

“I’ll be right back,” you say to her, rising from your seat to walk to the guilty looking male who’s ears have turned red. He says something in his sleeve and you realise the others must be close by or at least contactable. It all suddenly makes sense, you hadn’t seen them, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. The house, your father was far too busy to burden himself with your mess, the sudden calm around you where normally there’d be a bustle of cameras and people.

“Princess,” he greets you bashfully, embarrassed for getting caught and complicating things. “Funny seeing you here, I was just waiting for a friend...”

“Liar,” you whisper, but it’s loud enough to shut him up.

“I can explain,” his cheeks are going red like his ears, you don’t know what you feel. There’s an emptiness that presents its self in his presence, like your body is trying to protect itself by going numb, even though your heart is begging you not to.

“I don’t want to hear it right now,” you close your eyes at the wave of sadness that overwhelms you. “I think you need to leave.”

You repeat your words from a month ago and it still cuts through him the same as it did then.

“I can’t...” he shuffles awkwardly from foot to foot.

“Jin you’re not my bodyguard anymore, this is harassment,” your cold eyes pierce through him but he stands strong against your onslaught.

“Actually...” he tries to chuckle but it dies as soon as it leaves his mouth. “Well you see, w-we- no your father... the king,” there’s a pause as he clears his throat and his hesitation irritates you.

“We’ve been reinstated as your bodyguards by order of the King,” a new voice behind you saves the stuttering man in front. You can’t help the fists form at your side as your mouth sets itself in a line. You turn to face Namjoon with a stern expression.

“No.” He knew you’d be stubborn, he knew it was a little underhanded of them, but after that day they couldn’t leave you like this. They would give you space, hope they could redeem themselves slowly, but they also had to keep you safe. They didn’t care you were next in line for the throne, they didn’t care their feelings for you were inappropriate in their line of work, you meant the world to them, you were their friend, and they couldn’t leave you again.

“I’m really sorry Princess, but the decisions been made,” he answers you sincerely. “We won’t get in your way, you won’t know we’re here, bu-”

“I said no,” your lips are tight, eyes enraged as you clench your jaw. He sighs, but he knows it would take time to heal the rift between you and the seven men.

You were right when you thought the rest of them were close behind, Yoongi and Jimin walk into your field of vision behind Namjoon, blazers buttoned, Jimin’s hair jelled back, Yoongi’s hand in his pocket. The sight takes you back and it knocks your confidence a little.

“Well that’s treason Princess,” Yoongi reasons with a small smirk forming on his face. “I guess that would get rid of us for you, being beheaded by the King.”

You shake your head is disbelief, a big sigh leaving your lips as you close your eyes to gather strength.

“I can’t do this right now,” you walk away back to your friend who’s eyes haven’t left the interaction. “I’ll deal with this later.”

——————————————————————————

You wonder what happened to their promise to stay out of sight and out of mind the following Saturday.

Maybe you walked through the bad part of town on purpose, maybe you wanted to piss them off or put yourself in danger, maybe you just wanted some control. A man that looks like trouble wolf whistles as you walk in his direction, and you smile like he’s your salvation. You don’t make it another two steps as a hand grabs your arm forcefully. You turn to find an angry Hoseok glaring at the man now cat calling you before turning his glare to you, nostrils flared like a bull about to charge.

You physically have to stop yourself from gulping at his aura, you know if pushed Hobi would cause harm to anyone that disrespected you. His grip on your arm tightens as the man doesn’t stop yelling profanities at you, he’s obviously intoxicated not that it excused his behaviour. Hobi hadn’t spoken a word, you can see him trying to ground himself and his anger, starting to lose his control, trying to regain his cool.

The guilt washes over you at his gaze, your smirk long gone as you struggle to keep eye contact. He hasn’t seen your face soften like this in so long, a glimpse of the old you coming back with concern.

“Hobi I’m sorry,” you whisper. “Let’s just go.”

His eyes are shut and he’s shaking with fury, at the man, at you, at himself.

“Hobi please,” you cup his cheek with your palm, stroking your thumb against his skin, feeling panic rising in yourself. The man is in front of you both now and you feel shame for making such a stupid decision. You press your forehead against his jaw as he stares daggers at the man.

“Your boyfriend giving you problems sexy?” He wears a shit eating grin as he speaks. “You looking for a bit of fun?”

Your touch calms your bodyguard enough to clear the haze of anger that threatens to attack the man where he stands. He releases a big breath before taking your wrist and walking you both away, pace unforgiving.

He still doesn’t say a word as you both get to the car, he pulls open the backseat door aggressively, looking at you expectedly. You don’t argue, you don’t scoff, you don’t walk away. Your eyes are round, looking up at him, begging for forgiveness. How the tables turn.

You get in without complaint, flinching as he slams the door shut. He gets into the drivers seat, putting his seat belt on before staring at you through the rear view mirror, jaw still clenched. You look lost, he hasn’t started the car and he hasn’t stopped staring at you.

“The seatbelt Y/n,” it’s a low growl and you quickly move to lock yours in place at his tone. Your heart is beating so fast you think it’s trying to escape. You don’t blame it, your hands are curled on your knees like a child ready to be scolded and you can’t look ahead as he pulls off.

——————————————————————————

You didn’t say a word the whole journey, scared a single sound would set him off. His grip was unrelenting on the wheel, you don’t think he cooled down at all even though he made sure he wasn’t driving recklessly with you in the car.

He doesn’t take you back to the castle, he takes you to their place. They rarely used to be at home when they worked for you, the castle was large enough for them to stay and they had no reason not to. You hesitate to leave the vehicle when Hobi opens the door for you, he’s patient even through his fury. He holds a hand out for you to take like they used to.

You want to ask him what you’re doing here, why he’s brought you, but you decide to take his hand and let him lead you indoors.

“Princess?” It’s odd to see Jungkook in his normal clothes, to see any of them in their casual wear, it looks homely. They all stare between you and Hobi, looking confused as you both walked into the living room.

You were staring at the floor as he explained where you were when he was on duty, the others now looked at you in shock and disappointment. It was hard for you to hear too, like he was talking about someone else, another girl, you wished the ground would swallow you whole.

“Princess this really has to stop,” it’s Jimin that breaks the silence after Hobi’s speech. His usual sweet disposition was wiped away with worry. “I get it, we messed up, but you can’t keep doing this to yourself Y/n.”

You don’t raise your head to meet his words, you stay with your eyes down and feet cemented where you stood. There’s a finger under your chin but you move your head to the side to avoid it bringing your face up.

“We’re really sorry,” Taehyung whispers beside you.

They blamed themselves for everything you had been through since the moment they left, but how could they undo it, how could they make this okay? His words don’t comfort you, they hurt you, they bring up the night they left all over again. But you feel the sincerity in his words, how hoarse it sounds, filled with every desire to turn the clock back. It brings tears to your eyes, it makes you choke on the emotion rising in your throat. You want it to be okay too, but you couldn’t erase the abandonment they left you with.

There’s a hand rubbing your back soothingly as your bottom lip trembles and your shoulders shake trying to keep the sobs down.

“It’s okay,” the hand on your back moves to your hair, and Taehyung rests his lips on your temple as he speaks. “We hurt you Princess, shout at us, let it out, cry, just stop holding it in.”

If you did as he said it would make you vulnerable again, you’d be letting them in and you don’t know if you’re ready for that. But he wasn’t wrong, holding all the pain down without a healthy form of release was making that gaping hole in your chest erode the rest of you away.

“I’m-m s-so a-angry-” you struggle to get your words out, having to take a shallow breathe with each word as they came out in a sob and it physically hurt you to speak. “At all o-of you.”

Tae’s crying too, Jungkook’s behind you but you can hear him sniffle. You lean into the Taehyung, pushing your face into his neck as you close your eyes and break down, he doesn’t hesitate to bring his arms around you when you think you’re about to fall.

“You had each other,” you wail, not caring at how deranged you sounded. “I had no one, you left me when I was injured!” Your head drops to his chest as you bang your fist against Taehyung’s chest finally letting it all out, and he takes it without bracing himself for each hit. “I needed you and you guys broke me.

Who was I supposed to talk to? Do you know how ridiculous it sounds to the people of my world. My bodyguards abandoned me, so fucking what? Get new ones.”

You grip his top that’s stained with your tears, you’re so angry, so heartbroken and the only people that would listen and help where the ones to cause you this pain.

“But you weren’t just my guards, you were my friends and I thought you all felt the same.”

There’s a whisper of “we do” but you ignore it.

They’ve never seen you like this, not when Taeyeon revealed her true colours, not when Sana moved away, you had said goodbye to people before, it was a part of life but nothing compared to when they left you, and you knew why, you just didn’t want to admit to it out loud. You didn’t want their pity, the pathetic Princess who had no friends who fell in love with her knights in shining armour, the people who were employed to ensure your safety. Misplaced feelings because you had no one else, you could hear Namjoon’s lecture already. They had never see you that way, if they had they wouldn’t have left.

If only you knew the thoughts running through the rest of their brains, how could they tell you they were compromised, that they broke your trust by falling for you, that every protocol dictated to them in their training stated they couldn’t keep a charge safe if they had feelings for them, they had to resign. Looking back it was the worst decision they ever made, but at the time it seemed like the most appropriate.

You scoff through your tears, “if you felt the same you would’ve at least come to see me, but you didn’t, you would’ve at least called or texted but you blocked my number, I tried to contact you everyday for the first two weeks and it was like you all didn’t exist anymore.”

There’s a grasp softly pulling you out of Taehyung’s hold and he whines as you’re taken away. Namjoon’s eyes are red, he looks like he’s on the brink of tears himself, but he holds it together.

“We’re so sorry Y/n,” he could never stop saying it, even if he did earn your forgiveness it could never assuage the guilt that weighed on them. “We honestly thought it was the right thing to do, if we kne-”

“On what planet was that ever the right thing to do Joon?” You cut him off, you didn’t want excuses.

“We made a mistake, leaving you was a mistake but we made one before that,” you frown at his words, what mistake? He contemplates his words but there’s no way mince them, no way to make what he’s about to say any easier. He’s not trying to make excuses, he’s not trying to justify his behaviour he just wanted to be honest. “We fell in love with our charge, the biggest offence we could commit, the biggest threat to your safety was us.”

He watches your eyes go wide as tears streamed down your face, he waited for your disgust, your displeasure.

“We are so in love with you Princess, it killed us to leave you but you have to believe me when I say we thought it was for the best.”

You can’t breathe. He wants you to say something, he needs you to say something, anything. You just stare at him in disbelief until you find the words to speak.

“Are you so stupid?” You gasp, gaze flickering to all their faces, theyre holding their breaths. “Are you all so blind that you couldn’t see that I was in love with you too?”

It was Namjoon’s turn to stare at you in disbelief, their jaws dropped.

“How stupid could you be Namjoon! Did you even think for a seco-” your voice is muffled by his chest as he pulls you into him, and he finally lets himself cry. You were right he was so stupid, he always prided himself on his intellect but look at the mess he made. He holds you like he’d never let you go, tight like you’d disappear in his arms.

“I’m so sorry Y/n, I’m so sorry,” he whimpers and it breaks your heart, you’ve never heard the leader sound like this. You sigh deeply in his arms, warmth finally starting to fill the hole.

“It’ll be alright Joonie,” you hug him back and he’s so grateful for you in that moment. “We’ll work through it.”

You have to believe that you will. More arms wrap around you both, tears of relief, tears of hope mixed with apologetic whispers, words of comfort. You feel the warmest you have in months.

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fics-n-stuff · 3 years ago

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A Size Too Big

See original prompt here

Pairing: Wilhelm × Simon

Summary: Simon spends the night in Wilhelm's room and has to borrow some clothes the next morning. (AU where nothing went wrong and they can still be together)

Word Count: 836

A/N: I am OBSESSED with Young Royals! The story, the characters, the cast, EVERYTHING!! I need a second season because I just want my boys to be happy!!!

Taglist: @rika90 (I have a couple more YR fics in the works, so anyone can let me know if they want to be tagged in those 💕)

Simon was the first of them to wake up that morning. His eyes fluttered open and the first thing that he saw was Wilhelm asleep beside him. Simon reached over to gently brush away the strands of blonde hair falling over his face, careful not to wake him. He didn’t know what time it was.

Slowly, he sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. His phone was on the floor somewhere, and he kicked at his clothes until he found it sitting under his hoodie. With a yawn, he reached down to grab it and checked the time, then suddenly he was wide awake when he saw how late it was.

“Wille, wake up.” Simon whispered, gently nudging the other boy awake. “You’re gonna miss breakfast, there’s only fifteen minutes left until it closes.”

“I don’t care.” Wilhelm groaned sleepily.

“I care, you have to get me something to eat.”

“Hmm, okay.” He hummed, finally opening his eyes. “I’ll go for your sake.” Simon let out a breathy laugh, leaning down to give Wilhelm a kiss.

“Thank you.” He smiled. Then he sat back up and looked at his clothes from the previous day strewn on the floor and groaned. “I don’t have any clothes.”

Simon hadn’t planned on staying the night with Wilhelm, but Wilhelm had had a really bad day and Simon didn’t want to leave him alone. Unfortunately, the spontaneity of it all meant that Simon didn’t have a change of clothes, and it probably wouldn’t be a very good look to wear the exact same thing to school two days in a row.

“I’ll lend you something.” Wilhelm yawned, stretching as he sat up.

“What if people notice that I’m wearing your clothes?”

“I’ll lend you something that I don’t wear very much.” He shrugged as he stood, and crossed the room to his wardrobe. He grabbed a pair of jeans and a grey hoodie and tossed them at Simon, who caught them with a giggle, before grabbing the first things that his hand found for himself.

They both got dressed quickly, a knock coming at the door to check that the Crown Prince was awake while they did so. Wilhelm pulled on his shoes and looked up just in time to see Simon pushing the hoodie sleeves up off of his hands.

“This is clearly a size too big.” Simon said, standing up with his arms outstretched to display the bagginess of the hoodie on his body. Wilhelm smiled endearingly.

“I think you look cute.” He complimented.

“I should hope so.” Simon replied teasingly. The jeans were too long on his legs too, but he just had to fold them up a couple of times and nobody would notice.

Wilhelm couldn’t stop looking at him. Seeing Simon wearing his hoodie had sparked a warm feeling in his chest, similar to what he felt when he watched the other boy sing in the choir but somehow even better. He didn’t even think about it when he moved back across the room to wrap his arms around Simon’s middle and pull him in for a hug.

“Thank you for being here.” He mumbled against his neck. Simon’s hold on Wilhelm was tight and comforting.

“No problem.” He replied softly. After a few moments he pulled away, adjusting the hoodie sleeves where they had fallen over his hands. “You’re sure nobody’s going to realise that this is your hoodie?”

“It’s just a plain grey hoodie and I haven’t worn it in ages, there’s no way they’ll know it’s mine.” Wilhelm assured, grabbing Simon’s arm and rolling up the sleeve to sit securely at his wrist. “If anyone asks why your hoodie is too big, just say that it was a gift from someone who didn’t know your size.”

“Does that mean I can keep it?” Simon asked, his mouth pulling into a sweet smile. Wilhelm didn’t think he would be able to deny him anything with that look on his face.

“If you want it.” He smiled back. Simon giggled and draped his arms over Wilhelm’s shoulders, leaning up for a kiss. They both smiled into it, taking this short moment just to bask in the fact that they were there together.

“Okay, okay. Go or you’ll miss breakfast.” Simon laughed as he broke the kiss. “I will not be happy if I get nothing to eat.”

“Alright, I’m going.” Wilhelm nodded, and quickly stole one last peck before he stepped away. His gaze lingered on the other boy for a few moments, and he let out a long sigh. “You do look really good in my hoodie.”

“You’ll have to get some more for me to steal.” Simon joked after a short laugh. “Now seriously, go! I’m hungry!”

Wilhelm grabbed his phone from the bed, a grin on his face that he couldn’t wipe off, and headed for the door. They whispered short goodbyes before he left the room, leaving Simon to sneak out a few minutes later.

#young royals #young royals netflix #young royals fanfiction #wilhelm x simon #simon x wilhelm #wilhelm young royals #simon young royals #simon eriksson #young royals fanfic #young royals fic

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cuttoothed · 4 years ago

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Getting this in just under the wire for day 1 of @jonmartinweek prompt “Comfy Jumpers”. I get so much joy from writing these two in s1 and thinking “lol you idiots are going to be in love some day.”

Martin knows that Jon doesn’t approve of the way he dresses.

It’s not exactly a surprise. Jon doesn’t approve of much about Martin: his report-writing, his Latin translations, even his very existence seems to irk Jon at times. Frankly, the feeling is mutual. Martin was perfectly happy working in the library, where his boss wasn’t an overbearing perfectionist arsehole, and if he’d been given a choice in the matter he’d still be shelving books and updating the filing systems, not getting glared at for his clothing choices. He’s well aware that Jon never wanted him in the Archives either, but they’re here now, so Mister Head Archivist is just going to have to live with it. They’re both going to have to.

Jon isn’t subtle about his displeasure; it’s difficult to miss his pointed scowls at Martin’s scuffed trainers and graphic-print t-shirts. And considering that Sasha wears jeans and t-shirts some days as well—though admittedly she tends to plain colors or muted prints, rather than retro video game characters—it’s pretty clear that it’s less about the clothes than it is the person wearing them.

Well, Jon can scowl all he wants, because everything Martin wears technically falls within the Institute’s dress code and there’s not a word Jon can say to him.

Martin has always run hot, so as winter closes in and other people are bundling up in heavy coats and jumpers, he throws hoodies over his t-shirts and zips them up only far enough that the bright graphic prints are still clearly visible to Jon’s critical eye.

Yeah, he thinks sometimes when he walks into Jon’s office, get an eyeful of Yoshi and see how you like it.

Jon, for his part, seems determined to outlast the winter in his usual dress shirt and tweed jacket combo. Martin knows that Jon isn’t particularly warm blooded—he’s seen the way the man huddles into his jacket like a tortoise in its shell until the central heating warms the basement up in the mornings—but he still refuses to add so much as an argyle sweater vest to his outfit in deference to the season.

The only concession Jon makes to the weather is a voluminous gray overcoat and a dark purple scarf, which he takes off the moment he gets into the office, regardless of how cold it is before the ancient heating system creaks to life.

And, well, it’s none of Martin’s business if his boss is too much of a pompous arse to dress appropriately for the weather. If he wants to freeze his backside off to maintain his academic dignity, far be it from Martin to intervene. Martin doesn’t feel sorry for him, when he sees Jon blowing on his fingers to warm them up, or briskly rubbing his arms while he waits for the kettle to boil and he thinks nobody else is around. Not in the slightest.

It’s below zero on the day in December when the central heating finally gives up the ghost. Even Martin can feel the chill in the Archives this morning, keeps his hoodie zipped up all the way even when he runs into Jon in the kitchenette. Jon looks miserably cold, his shoulders hunched and his movements stiff as he makes his tea.

“Morning, Jon,” Martin says cheerfully. “Bit nippy, isn’t it?”

“Just a bit,” says Jon sardonically. Somewhere overhead, there’s a metallic clanking as the heating system starts up.

“Finally,” Jon mutters, casting his eyes upward. The pipes creak and clank some more, and there’s an odd whirring sound that Martin’s fairly sure isn’t normal, and then a long, descending groan into silence.

“Oh,” says Martin. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“Bloody hell,” says Jon, and storms off to his office. A while later, he sends an email to inform them all that he’s spoken to Elias and the heating is out for the whole building, and that they should all feel free to work from home for the rest of the day if they choose. Sasha and Tim waste no time packing up, but Martin lingers, agonizing over which notes and references he should take with him. He’s never before had a job where working from home was an option, and he isn’t Tim or Sasha, isn’t someone Jon trusts and actually wanted to work with. Martin needs to make sure he gets it right.

At last he thinks he has everything he needs, but still Martin is hesitating, fiddling with the strap of his satchel. Maybe he should just check in with Jon before he leaves, make sure there isn’t anything else he needs to do. Make sure Jon knows I’m going to be working today, not just skiving off.

The door to Jon’s office is standing ajar; Martin taps on it, and pokes his head in without waiting for a response.

Jon looks up as he walks in, his expression startled. He is wearing a jumper. A chunky knit jumper in a warm maroon color, with a Christmas tree and several reindeer on the front. One of the reindeer has a red bobble for a nose. The jumper is oversized, the ends of the sleeves falling past Jon’s wrists.

It’s...incredibly cute, which is not a term that Martin ever expected to associate with his arsehole boss. Attractive, in a severe, unattainable way, sure, but not cute. Yet somehow, here they are.

“Ah, Martin,” Jon says, looking flustered. “I, uh, I thought you’d left with the others?”

“I was—I just wanted to check in with you first, make sure you didn’t need anything. You should head home too, it’s freezing in here.”

“I—I’m perfectly fine.” Jon plucks at the front of the jumper, looking embarrassed. “This is, ah, I bought this for the Institute Christmas party, but it’s surprisingly warm—and quite comfortable.”

“Oh, that’s, uh, that’s not part of your usual wardrobe then?” Martin hazards a chuckle, and to his relief, Jon huffs an amused breath. He raises a hand to adjust his glasses, but his sleeve gets in the way; he pushes both sleeves up to the elbows, and oh no, that’s even cuter.

“No, not—not usually,” he says. Martin frowns, suddenly remembering.

“You didn’t wear it at the party last week, though?”

“No, it’s—it was from the previous year, when I was in Research. It-it didn’t seem appropriate this year, being in a management role. Fortunately I still had it in a box, though I, uh, I didn’t really expect anyone to see me in it.”

Martin feels a sudden pang of something that might be sympathy. He understands how it feels, the desperate pressure to be professional, to be taken seriously, the constant second guessing of what you’re doing, whether you’re giving away something you shouldn’t. It’s hardly the same, of course: Jon’s not likely to be fired for wearing a silly jumper. But...Martin gets it.

“Actually,” he lies, “I, uh, I have to meet with Sophie up in the library later, so I’m around for the day. I was just going to go out and pick up some early lunch. Thought I’d see if you want anything?”

“Oh, ah, where are you going?” Jon asks tentatively, looking surprised at the offer.

“I was thinking of that cafe just around the corner—maybe get some soup and a sandwich?”

“That would be...very nice, actually. If you’re sure you don’t mind?”

“I wouldn’t have offered if I did,” says Martin, and takes the ten pound note Jon offers him.

“Thank you, Martin,” says Jon, and it’s the probably the most sincere thing Martin’s ever heard him say. He finds himself smiling without meaning to.

“Not a problem.”

It’s too early for lunch, really, but Martin knows Jon never eats breakfast and he missed it himself this morning. He gets two portions of steaming tomato and basil soup and toasted cheese sandwiches from the cafe, and when he gets back, Jon’s found a small space heater to plug in, so his office is marginally warmer than the rest of the Archives. They sit on opposite sides of Jon’s desk to eat, talking about the case that Martin’s working on. It’s the first time Martin’s actually had the chance to properly discuss a case, rather than stumbling through his report while Jon watches expectantly; Jon listens, and asks questions, and even offers some helpful suggestions for Martin’s follow up. It’s...oddly nice.

(Jon also continues to look unreasonably cute in his oversized Christmas jumper, but Martin carefully ignores that.)

The heating gets fixed by early afternoon, and the Archives warm up to the point where Martin can unzip his hoodie. When he drops off his finished case report to Jon’s office, Jon is back in his shirt and jacket, the maroon jumper packed away out of sight. He looks perfectly staid and professional once again. I saw you looking cute, though, Martin thinks, and then tries to pretend he didn’t; he is not going down that route.

Jon glances up when Martin comes in, taking in the “Marvin the Martian” t-shirt that’s now visible beneath his hoodie. Instead of a disapproving scowl, however, he gives a small, hesitant smile.

“Thank you, Martin,” he says as he takes the report, and something flutters warm in Martin’s chest.

Oh no, he thinks.

#the magnus archives #tma #jonmartinweek2021 #jonmartin #my fic

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can-i-write-well-yet · 2 years ago

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The Truth About Your Heart

P1/P2

a fanfic for 4KOTA that I was working on, no one requested this except me, and I realized if I want to read i'm gonna have to be the one to write it.

So here we go! It should have ever one of the sins and the Four Knights squads in it, but it will focus primarily on Ban and Lancelot's Family and the oc I added. It'll mostly be from the oc's perspective because I'm scared to write for characters perspectives that I didn't make, lmao.

I worked on this but am always open to take breaks to write other requests~ Let's'a go!

Chapter One.

It’s a beautiful day in Benwick, sun shining across the trees, the smell of fresh dew and wisteria flowers floats across a room, you could hear the chatter of the fairies outside the window, and the birds chirping faintly in the background, and on this beautiful morning one lad laying down in his bed could only think of one thing.

“God I hope someone kills me.” The young man said to himself hopefully.

A knock was heard at the door to his bedroom, the killer he wanted perhaps?

“Gus!! Mom said get up! We’re leaving for Uncle’s in five mimutes!!”

No such luck, just his sister sent to drag him out of bed. He supposed he should get up before his mother comes to get him up herself, she won’t stop at simple knocking and yelling and he’d rather not get tossed out of his bed again, the first time was enough.

He kicks off his covers before going to inspect his closet for anything he would feel comfortable wearing on this hellish field trip his mother was dragging him on, settling on a simple white button down shirt with peasant sleeves, putting a leather vest over the shirt, and a pair of black slacks. He was going to feel miserable in whatever he wore so why bother being extravagant?

He went through his washroom routine mindlessly, doing it by muscle memory rather than paying any attention to what he was doing, his mind was on other things, the visit to Lionas mostly.

He didn’t want to go, not that he hated Lionas, the kingdom was lovely and he didn’t mind the people there, it was simply what he was expected to do once he arrived. Greeting the King and Queen wasn’t an issue, in his family it wasn’t an exaggeration to say that he had the best manners out of all of them, his father treated everyone the same no matter who they were, his mother’s usual response to anyone was ignoring them or throwing off of cliffs, and his sister was seven.

No, the problem he faced was he would have to go to that castle, meet with all of his relatives and friends and he would have to look all those people in the eye and pretend everything was okay, knowing what he knew.

‘I can do that here,’ He thought to himself while brushing his teeth, ‘I can do that with Mum and Father and Beru, and I know I can do it with everyone else, but GOD it’s going to be fucking exhausting! I don’t wanna do this. Please let me fall down the stairs, Please let me fall down the stairs, Please let me fall down the stairs’

He was so engrossed in his mantra he didn’t notice his mother coming into his room.

“Gus?”

“AAAIIK!!!!” He screamed as he turned around and slipped on his bed clothes, almost slamming face first into the wall before he felt himself hovering.

“Thanks for the save Ma.”

“I’m Sorry!! I should’ve knocked first!” His mother released her wind magic and allowed her son to gently be set on the floor before helping him stand, checking for any injuries before looking him in the eye, “Sorry, I forget sometimes, I don’t know why, I swear I try.”

The young man shrugged, “It’s no big deal Ma, I space out a lot, chances are even if you did knock I wouldn't've heard it. I had some stuff on my mind.”

“You know you can tell me anything, right? I’m here no matter what.”

“I know Ma.”

“So what’s wrong, Babi?”

He could tell her, he could drop all his problems right here and now, he could rely on another person for one day.

He could tell all his problems and beg her to help, just this once. For once he could trust an adult to help with everything going on.

But he won’t, his mother didn’t deserve all this baggage he’s collected over the years, and he wouldn’t force her to hold him together, she’s held enough people together for a lifetime.

So he does what he’s done for the past nine years, and he lies.

“I’m just really tired Ma, and a little worried about how long the trip is gonna be, not to mention all the nobles we’re gonna have to deal with, I can hear them sucking up now. ‘OH YOUNG LORD HOW HANDSOME YOU ARE TONIGHT~ PRAY TELL, WHERE IST THOU PAPA SO I MAY BROWN NOSE???’”

His mother laughs at his joke, obviously relieved to think her son is just tired, both physically and of humans.

“Well you’ll be happy to know we’re going to take a portal over to the kingdom instead of traveling. Your Uncle is going to come pick us up, and I know sometimes the people can be tiring, so tell you what, how about I take over talking duties? I can talk to all the people there and you can go hang out with your cousins and friends?”

That… would actually help a lot now that he thinks about it, the less people he had to talk to, the less people he had to lie to, his mom did that a lot, help unintentionally.

She would give a solution for a problem he made up that actually ended up helping with the problem he was hiding, she was just magical like that he supposed.

“GUS!!! MUMMY!!! WE HAVTA GO NOW!!! UNCLE’S COMING SOON!!! HUR-RY-UP!!”

“WE’LL-BE-DONE-SOON!!!” The boy yelled back at his younger sister, she never did like waiting for anything so this talk was probably agonizingly slow for her. “You should probably go Ma, she needs to eat before we leave and I’ve gotta get my hair brushed and find my satchel before we head out.”

“Okay Babi, I’ll grab you something to eat on the way, don’t forget your sketchbook, your uncle has been asking to see your drawings and I’m not explaining why he must wait, COMING RU-RU!!!” She yelled down to her daughter before turning back and giving him a small kiss on his forehead, “Love you babi.”

“Love you Ma.” He watched his mother leave down the stairs before closing the door.

He walked to his bed and reached under it to grab a box full of his sketchbooks and placed two of them in a small satchel. He then grabbed his brush and started to comb through his pale lavender hair.

After tying it into a low hanging ponytail, he made sure his door was locked and his shades were drawn before walking over to the picture his younger sister had drawn for him, it was of him, her, and their older brother.

He had told her he liked the drawing so much that he wanted to keep it in his room so could look at it all the time. A part of this was true, he did like the drawing, it was well done for a 5 year old, but everything after that was a lie. He didn’t want that thing anywhere near his room and to be perfectly honest, he would be alright never seeing it ever again.

It wasn’t because of anything his sister did, no he always loved her drawings, and honestly it was his own fault, they way the picture turned out. After all, he was the one who wondered out loud whether or not she knew what their brother looked like. She did, and then she felt bad for leaving him out of all her other pictures, so she drew all three of them together.

And now he had it in his room, where he would see it, day in and day out. He had to keep it in his room, there was nowhere else for it to go. If she had kept it in her room then their parents would’ve seen it, and then they would make that face they always did when they were reminded of their eldest son.

And Beru wouldn’t understand, and she would wonder if it was her fault, and then he could only hope it was his mother who found the painting, and not his father, because both of them would do a terrible job of comforting the young girl, but at least his mom would be gentle about it.

So to avoid that, he kept it in his room, his mom would still see it and she would cry, but he could be there for her and hold her together so Beru wouldn’t get upset. (Sometimes his mother would lie on his bed next to him and hold him close while she looked at the picture, crying silently for a couple minutes before getting up and making them both something to eat, she was always happier after crying for a bit.)

Beru would see her drawing in his room and be happy that he liked it, and be none the wiser to how her family really felt. (Sometimes Beru would sneak into his bed in the middle of the night, and ask about her oldest brother, she knew neither of her brothers had met but she knew her older brother knew more than she did, she just wanted to feel close to all her family, even the ones she hadn’t met. So he would tell her stories he had heard about him, and when he ran out of stories he would make some up until she fell asleep and he would carry her back to bed.)

And his father, who hasn’t entered his room in years, would never see the painting, and would never get his hands on it. (The boy remembered someone talking about his older brother with his father. He didn’t hear the whole conversation from his hiding place on the top of the stairs, but he somehow knew what they were discussing. He remembers seeing a small jacket being handed to his father, him caressing it gently before yelling at the person he was speaking to and starting to stomp his way upstairs. The boy remembers hiding under a table in the hallway and watching his father storm into his older brother's room, placing the shirt in the small closet before storming back down into the front room. The room remained untouched to this day. Anything that belonged or was related to the eldest son went into that room, and never came out again.)

So this small thing, this placement of a child's painting, was actually used to hold their family together.

Well for that and one other thing.

He raised his fist above his head and slammed it down two inches to the left of the painting and down into his waiting hand fell a worn out, Prussian blue journal.

He rifled through the pages before stopping on a page where the writer was talking about his uncle stopping by.

The writer of this journal would only ever write about his day in one page, and he always wrote on the left page, and only the left page.

Gus was fond of that, because he would then write on the right page, as if responding to the author of the journal.

‘Dear Whom-Ever reads this.

(NOT DAD! THIS IS MY JORNAL!)

Today Uncle came over to visit he brought over my cosin Deidrick to play with me but Dei never plays right. Okay he plays right i guess but he doesn’t wanna fight. He just plays meedator and how we shood talk out feelings out instead of punching.

Uncle also brought my new cosins MAttie and ElliE they are cute i guess MAttie likes punching but Auntie said she was too young to play swords and i have to wait til shes older.

But dad fought with me! he always wresssals with me! So he’s teaching Dei how to fight better two!

Anyway sense I have to go now im leaving this journal entry here until tomorrow.

Good bye!’

Gus smiles at the childish writing, barely decipherable but quite adorable. He had found this book wrapped in cloth and buried under an old piece of driftwood, he wouldn’t’ve found it if not for a faint glow of sunlight that had happened to have hit it just right, having piqued his curiosity and prompting him to look beneath. He likes to think it was fate that led him to it, but he was okay with it just being luck.

‘Smarter to be Lucky than Lucky to be Smart.’ He thought as he picked up his pen before writing down his reply.

‘Dear Older Brother.

I am also meeting our Uncle today, he’s coming over to bring us all to Lionas for a meeting with the king, probably for a party. And he’s bringing all of our cousins here as well.

You’ll be happy to know Deidrick now knows how to fight much better, though he still enjoys playing mediator.

Mattie can throw real punches now, and she can use swords as well, she prefers just fighting with bare knuckles.

Ellie enjoys puzzles more than anything, but never says no to a good fight.

I may have mentioned in a previous entry, but we have a new cousin now as well, his name is Brahms.

He recently turned 7 and is growing well, he gets sick a lot but he’s very brave, you would have liked him.

Father and Mother are excited to see all of their old friends, I’m worried about them so it will be good to get out of Benwick, they’ve been cooped up for too long.

I’m all ready to go, just making sure I update you before I go…

They all still miss you, please come home soon.

I would like to meet you, even though I know you hate me, I don’t care, they need you Lancelot. Please hurry up with your dumb mission or adventure that you think is more important then our fami-’

He stops before completing that sentence, he knows it might be a bit too far, he doesn’t know what’s kept Lance away for so long, and Gus knows he’s coming home soon. But sometimes you just can’t help feeling.

He is still writing in someone else’s journal so he makes an effort to be polite.

‘I don’t mean to be mean, I just know you’re out there and I don’t know why you didn’t come bac-’

“UNCLE KING!!!” He heard his sister call from downstairs.

He took a peek outside his window and saw his Uncle Harlequin exchanging greetings with his sister, and his Aunt Diane chatting with his father. He should wrap this up before heading down.

‘I am leaving now for Lionas. I will try to grab more funds while I’m there, don’t worry, I won't break my promises, even if the only one who knows I made one is me.

I wish to meet you one day, on good terms, after everything is said and done.

Despite what you may think of me, I love you Lancelot.

Love, Your Brother, Gustav.’

“GOOSE!!!” He heard rapid knocking on his door, and the voice of his oldest cousin, Deidrick.

And as he stepped on top of his dresser to place the book back into the rafters he gently caressed the name on the journal.

‘Lancelot’

He put the book back into the rafters and stepped down to grab his satchel off the bed and unlocked his door to be met with a tight hug from his cousin.

‘From your dad to you, may you write down your heart into this book,

I love you my son.’

“BROTHER! I’ve missed you man!” Deidrick exclaimed, picking his younger cousin off the floor and spinning around the room.

“Yeah, missed you too Dei-Dei.” Hugging his cousin and tapping him gently on the back, he asked, “So was it your idea for Uncle King to take us there with the portal?”

“How’d you know?” Dei asked, amazed.

Gustav pushed back to look his cousin to look at him flatly, “Your the only one who has any issues with the ride there,”

“It’s not my fault y’all can’t fly, why do I have to slow down and wait every time?!”

“And in a letter you sent a while back you told me how your dad said he’d do you a favor if you watched your siblings for a night, and you never told me what you used it for, so I guessed you were saving it for something like this…”

“... Damn little brother. You should be a detective with skills like that.”

“It’s not ‘Skills’,” Gustav rolled his eyes while walking down the stairs to the rest of their party, “You’re just incredibly basic.”

Dedrick held his hand to his heart as he floated down next to Gustav, “LE GASP! How could you be so crew-el?”

“Very easily,” Gustav managed to say before his younger sister slammed into his chest, knocking the wind out his lungs and nearly sending both of them onto the floor if Dei hadn’t caught the both of them.

“BERU! Be gentle on your brother!” Ban chastised from the doorway where he was greeting King.

“Sorey Da!” Beru said offhandedly before turning her head back to her older brother, her crimson eyes glimmering with excitement as her dandelion colored hair bounced up and down, “GUS! Are you so excited!!??”

Gustav, now breathing again, and having picked up his energetic younger sister, replied, ”So excited for what? The trip? I suppos-”

Cutting him off and grabbing his face, “No Silly! We’re being a fish-... Oh fizz, no. Um, a-afisha-. What was the word Uncle Harlequin?”

“Officially.” King replied, smiling at the siblings from where he stood next to Elaine.

“Offishally! We are Offishally invited to a meeting of the Seven Deadly Sins!”

Gustav’s eyes widened before turning to look at his father, “Father, is this true? I thought we- I thought I wasn’t- We weren’t-”

Ban held his hands up in a shushing movement, stopping the train of thoughts tumbling through his son's mind, “It’s not that big a deal, slow your roll kid. We just got a summons from the Captain, which could mean anything from ‘The demon king has returned and Lionas is up in flames’ to ‘We ran out of Vanya Ale so I'm calling a Seven Deadly Booze-Run cause I’m bored out of my mind’. We’ll figure it out when we get there. But considering he signed it with a picture of a smiling bird, I’d say he didn’t think it was anything serious, and while grown up meetings are still off the table, this should be boring enough to take the kids to.”

“Oh, uh, okay, we will be part of the discussion or...?”

“Yeah if ya’ want, Cappy called for everyone and their kids, so we’re bringing everyone and their kids.” Ban muttered something under his breath too quietly for Gus to hear, but it sounded annoyed, “Anyway, you munchkins all ready to head out? Got’cher grab bags and toys and shit?”

“All our toys and shit are packed and ready Father.” Gustav and Beru both gave a salute before walking out to the rest of their cousins, and giving their greeting to their Aunt Diane, who was currently too big to come in the house.

Elaine glared at Ban for cursing in front of the kids, Ban smiled back unapologetically and held open the door for her to join their children.

He then turned to King with a look of pure fury on his face and questioned,

“So. Care to tell me why the Fuck my kids got a summon from the Dragon Sin of Wrath?”

7 notes · View notes