#to their father and his ways and His company | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

spinstertheuncommon · 2 days ago

Text

Take me to war. Come on, I dare you - Batfam x Neglected!fem!Reader

(Oneshot)

Inspired by this post by @astraeasworld !!

Reader looks and acts deathly like Martha Wayne, and it scares Bruce into avoiding and neglecting his daughter.

I did only use the 4 robins in this story, cause I kinda made Bruce a sexist dad so Cass isn't here cause I ain't doing that to her ƪ(ツ)∫ .

Title is in reference to the Crane Wives song of the same name, and it influenced the story heavily as well as the rest of their discography.

Cw: implications of unprotected sex (readers conception), neglect, postpartum depression, physically absent parent and emotionally absent parent, emotional distress and abuse, tropes of avoidant personality disorder from both reader and Bruce, tropes of paranoia from Bruce, grief, one swear.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You were the product of a lapse in judgement. A trust in a pill, a lack of rubber, and a restless night.

Now, you’ve grown to embrace your status of a regret, no matter how that title is gifted. It’s never really your fault, is it?

Your mother didn’t hide the pregnancy from your father, instead informing him of practically every aspect. Monitoring your growth, health, gender, complication’s; practically everything tangible to a baby. Your mother even asked if he wanted to gift you your middle name.

A gift he’ll say he gave irresponsibly, yet one you brandish with petty pride.

Neither of your parents desired shared custody. Your mother wished to raise her baby herself, and your father merely requested annual updates on you, masking his indifference. He had no intention to claim custody rights, and preferred to keep to himself. Said he had no intentions to raise a kid, to busy for it.

A month prior to your birth, he publicly adopted a son.

It's only so much a neighbour could offer, especially when she hardly knew them. Instead, she’d put you in your crib, and hide in her closet, wailing and trying to outcry you.

A year after that, your mother was at her boiling point. She would say that she wasn’t informed, that no one prepared her for how hard single parenting is. But the truth was that she lacked support. Her parents were to busy to just move across country from the west coast to Gotham, and her brother was unprepared to uproot his life and move from Star City, already settled down with his own partner and child. Sure they helped the best that they could, but no one, not even your mother, was prepared to move.

So she was alone.

Eventually your uncle reached out to child services to aid your mum, after she called him, weeping at her inability to parent. Due to your cousin, born with a low independence disability, your uncle couldn't house more children without concerning child services. So, you were filed, and put in a foster home until they could get a hold of your father.

8 months later, he returned their calls.

♧♧♧♧

Growing up, you learned to not ask of much from the man you called your father. Don’t expect his yes, don’t expect his time, and never expect him to remember anything.

You tended to inform Alfred of things. School trips, fund raisers, teacher-parent conferences, birthday parties you were invited to, company at dinner, extracurricular, ect. He’d set up whatever you need, get you there and back, and would even ask you questions about your well-being.

Bruce funded all these acts, courtesy of pressure from the family law court. He can't have you taken away, for he'd loose Dick too, so he let you do near everything with a wave of his credit card and an absent glance.

With this freedom, you became the golden child of the city. Using every spare second of your time to stay out of your father's way, you did every sport, from tennis to dirt biking. You were a girl scout, volunteering to sell with any troupe. You went to spelling bees and language competitions. To art groups, museums, local gigs, band practice. You volunteered at shelters, at theatre departments as a usher or techie, at soup kitchens and clothing drives. Every parent, teacher, political figure, event planner and sports player in the city knew your name. Yet you were known for being humble about it. You were shy about status and kind to a fault, not someone anyone could bully or argue with. Even when asked about how your father never showed up for awards, you took it on the chin with the grace of someone much older. 'He's just busy,' you'd say, 'I know he loves me.'

You became a brilliant liar.

♧♧♧♧

Bruce wasn’t aware of any of it. Sure he had a calendar with every single event in there, courtesy of Alfred, but he never bothered to look at it. His job was to keep you alive, not entertain you. The sand of your life kept running through the timer, yet he never bothered to know each grain.

Never bothered to know your birthday.

To the press, however, he was the dream. The father to every orphan, the money man of every hospital, the dreamy breeze under Gotham's wings, to lift them high, high above their troubles.

Never to touch the solid ground of lies below.

♧♧♧♧

You respected your brothers, as they came along. Didn't ask them anything, didn't approach for nothing. Gave them space, and occupied yourself with anything. But that distance may have aided you.

While being only a year younger than Tim, as you got older, forced to be wiser beyond your years, your older brothers would come to you with their troubles; of mind or of heart, you were the mediator.

They knew your troubles with your father, and while they never helped you through them, you helped them with their issues.

With the countless seeds of doubt and hate you've unearthed from them, Bruce should owe you limb and life. Too bad he never respected you, despite what he tells the press.

He talks big game of absolute bullshit.

♧♧♧♧

Years passed, and you got over it.

Well... not really.

You more grew a habit of biting your tongue, the worst truths bubble bitterly like bile so they hurt nobody but you.

You don't want your brothers to get wrapped up in your loose ends, so you don't acknowledge the fraying.

Instead, you graduated high school a valedictorian, went to college with a full ride scholarship paid by the Hamilton Foundation,- thank you, Great Aunt Catherine- and moved out into your own home at 22, all with money you earned in college and highschool from awards and spare jobs. You still show face at the manor, not wanting to ghost the rest of your family just because your dad didn’t like you.

You worked hard, graduating with your PhD and a research placement in England, all lined up for after graduation season ends.

And the season ends tonight.

♧♧♧♧

All scholarship programs in Gotham come together at the end of the season and host a gala, each host on rotation. This year the world decided that dramatic irony would be your greatest adversary, as your father would be hosting in honour of the Thomas Wayne scholarship.

Your father found it distressing that you'll enter with your class instead of with him. He, however unbothered he claimed to be, was aware of how much the Gotham public love you. So if he was seen beside you, as a father shaped man, then he could leech that pride of you to be his own.

How terrible is it that unfortune favours the ugly souls.

Instead, he gave you a job, one you had taken upon yourself years ago.

Be quiet.

Fine.

I can be quiet.

♧♧♧♧

You sit in your room at the manor, all members aside Alfred already left to go organise the party. Facing the dressor, one your grandmother used to use, you run your index finger around your lower lip, to rub off any excess lipstick that may have dodged your liner.

Your other hand follows the curves of the faux marble, the ivory leaves and roses smoothed out with years of embrace. You used to daydream of your grandmother sitting there, on the same poof, brushing out her pin curls before going out on the town for the night, your grandfather chasing her wild fervour.

Many a times have you been told you are the spitting image of her, a face you’ve grown into. You started following her makeup rituals she would publish for the press, writing your letters with the same flick she did. Maybe you were selfish, but seeing how your father’s shoulders would tense at your signature always gave you a little pep in your step.

You fiddle with the knobby surface of the dresser a bit more, pulling at the bud along the side.

Click

The draw drops down from underneath, revealing the secret compartment. You've known about this for years, but never shared it with anyone, for it was your little secret.

Yours, and Marthas.

Inside it held three things: a diary with a canvas cover and well loved corners, one you would read yourself to sleep to, a pen etched with Martha's name, and a long box, containing what you felt was emotional dynamite.

You never sought a need for the context of the box, but tonight, a night before you leave the country, is a night to never forget.

♧♧♧♧

You drift through the crowd, your black, sweetheart dress glides around you. A simple look. Your evening gloves land just below your armpits, each side seam dripping with pearls, to compliment the strings around your neck. The same strings that haunt Bruces dreams; his nightmares of crushing reality.

Your grandmother's prized pearls.

His mother's lost pearls.

Or, assumed lost.

But instead of retreating into the confines of the Bat-suit, he instead has to bear the reality that the ghost of his mother haunts him through you.

He is tonight's host after all.

And he hates it. Forced to beside himself with your little revenge act in front of all eyes of power. He is meant to be the beloved, single, socialite dad of Gotham, not a neglectful father. And he’s not… is he?

You take pride in yourself that night, something you were uncommon to do. But with a final lap, you soak in every stare, every congratulations, every kiss on the cheek as stamps of victory.

Never would you let your status claim you, but god, you smiled like a rich snake.

♧♧♧♧

In the morning, as you boarded the plane to England, your full name will be plastered over the Gotham news-

“Y/n Martha Wayne-L/n stuns crowds in her grandmother’s wedding pearls at the Gotham Scholars Graduate gala!”

You’re beloved Gotham, always singing your prayers as you make the public appearances that your father butchered and ignored. While he kissed babies and sponsored orphans, you volunteer at shelters and escort patients into clinics, with welcome baskets for all.

You pride yourself on the war you’ve brought; to be the constant torment to Bruces suffering.

A tourniquet to his grief, locking down all the worst parts of Bruce, never letting him let go.

The city will haunt him with you. With your image.

With his mother's face, reincarnate.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Ehehehehe i had fun with this one

Gonna be posting a few more oneshots b4 getting back to the Gotham sewist chapters

Byeeee!!

Do not copy, steal, or repost my works!

#Spotify #do not repost #batman #batman fanfic #neglected!reader #batfam x batsis #bad parent bruce wayne #batman fanfiction #my writing #bruce wayne #dc x reader #x reader #the crane wives #fem reader #spinster the uncommon #inspired by a song #oneshot

120 notes · View notes

thatfanficstuff · 2 days ago

Text

In Dreams - Thranduil

Pairing: Thranduil x reader

warnings: just canon stuff

Every step through Mirkwood dragged at you, the forest path winding in endless turns that led nowhere. The shadows around you seemed to be living things and you once again cursed yourself that you hadn’t tried harder to convince the Company not to travel through its depths regardless of what the wizard said.

“Are you alright, lass?” Dwalin asked.

You answered with a quick shake of your head. “There is only trouble here.”

No sooner had you spoken the words than the spiders attacked. You held your own as well as you could, but you weren’t too proud to admit relief flooded you when the elves came to the rescue. Now, you were being led to the palace and the king. Great. This would go well, you were sure.

“How does an elleth come to be in the company of dwarves?” an elf with long, blond hair asked.

You eyed him a moment before recognizing him as Prince Legolas. You glanced away. “Half.”

“Half?”

“Half-elleth.” You caught his look of surprise as he took in your features which greatly favored your elf father. Fortunately, your life expectancy took after his as well. “And Mithrandir, to answer your question.”

He chuckled. “That answers a lot of questions, actually. And where is the wizard now?”

You sighed in irritation. “Wherever he usually is, I suppose. Which is anywhere but where I need him the most.”

That got laughs from several of the guard and Thorin shot you a narrow-eyed look. “Do you know these elves?”

You smirked at your friend. “No, but I suppose they find my company more pleasurable than yours.”

“Cheeky elf,” Thorin grumbled though his lips twitched in amusement.

As you neared the palace and the inevitable meeting with the Elvenking, the conversation died away. Partly in grim anticipation, and partly in awe as you took in the world around you. The halls of the palace opened before you, carved into the very heart of the wood. Opulent and vast, possessing its own quiet beauty so vastly different to Imladris. Even the dwarves were taken with the halls around them.

“This way,” one of the guard said as he directed the Company down a branching corridor.

Ori stumbled, his eyes locked on the grandeur around him instead of where he was going. You caught him and he nodded his gratitude as you made sure he was steady on his feet. Thorin gave you a nod of thanks as well, though he should know by now you looked out for all of them as if they were your own kin.

Your mind raced as you neared the throne room wondering at the destiny of the Company. What did Thranduil intend to do with all of you? Before you could even guess at an answer, you were led over stone bridges and stairs until stood in a vast chamber. It was a masterpiece of elven design and at its center stood the throne, towering over everything around it. And upon it sat the Elvenking, his presence commanding, his form striking. Long hair like spun silver framed his regal face, and draped over a resplendent silver robe. Upon his brow sat a crown reflecting the branches and boughs of his kingdom. You gasped in surprise, never expecting him to be so beautiful despite the descriptions you’d heard.

His gaze moved over the company, cold and assessing. But when it landed on you, it was no longer indifferent. The chill in his eyes turned into something else, something that made your pulse race and your skin prickle. Something deep and intense that lingered far longer than it should but you couldn’t bring yourself to look away.

Finally, his focus shifted to the leader of your group. “Thorin, son of Thrain. I did not expect to see you here again.”

“Nor would you have to had your guard allowed us to continue on our way,” Thorin replied, defiance in every word. “What is your business with us?”

The king stood, every movement elegant and deliberate, his eyes never leaving Thorin. “Your presence is…unfortunate.” He paused and his gaze slid back to you with unsettling focus. “You trespass, yet I am merciful.”

“Merciful?” Dwalin spat. “To us?”

Thranduil’s lips curved into a faint smile. “I offer you freedom. You may go, all of you.” A pause, a beat of silence, then, “provided you leave the elleth behind.”

You sucked in a breath as every eye turned to you. The words hung heavy in the air. Seeing they surprised you as much as any of them, Thorin’s response was instant and fierce. “No. She is one of us. You cannot have her.”

The Elvenking’s laugh was a beautiful, bitter sound. “So loyal.” His eyes narrowed and his lips thinned. “Would you rather rot in my dungeons?”

When you started to protest, a hand grasping yours quieted you. Dwalin pulled you back with a shake of his head. “Leave it,” he hissed.

Thorin’s gaze moved between the two of you before he looked at Thranduil once more. “Better to rot than to break faith with a friend.”

Thranduil arched a brow before nodding slowly. His face was unreadable though a flicker of something flashed in his eyes. He was calm, controlled, yet his interest in you remained unwavering. “Then to my dungeons you shall go,” he declared, gesturing to his guards. “We shall see how long loyalty keeps you warm.”

And that was the last you saw of the dwarves for many weeks.

While Thranduil held true to his word and had the dwarves placed in his dungeons, you were led to an opulent room with a comfortable bed. You were dressed as befit a proper elleth and more than once you joined the king for a meal where little was said beyond your pleas for him to release your friends with promises you would remain behind. For his part, Thranduil always seemed to be watching you, waiting for something and seemed utterly disappointed when it didn’t happen.

Most of your time was spent alone as you waited for something to change. You read. Paced. Laid in a bed you seldom slept in. Days flew by, each one much the same as the one before. Until the day you heard a commotion in the hall outside your room. Before you could ask the guard what was going on, the door swung open.

Thranduil stood framed in the opening, his composure cracked, his mask gone. It was a shock to see him so unguarded, so vulnerable, and even more of a shock to see the relief that washed over him when his eyes found you.

“You’re still here,” he said in a breath. “Did you know of their plans to escape?” The question an accusation and a plea.

You met his gaze steadily, unflinching. “How could I? You haven’t allowed me to see them, let alone speak to them, since the day we were captured.” Your words were bitter, short. Filled with the resentment you couldn’t help but feel at the thought they’d left you behind, though you knew they’d had little choice.

He searched your face looking for deception and found none. “I should have known,” he muttered to himself. He took a step closer and hesitated as a thousand emotions flashed across his face. Then, as quickly as he came, he turned away. The silence rushed back in to fill the space he left behind, but it was somehow even lonelier than it was before.

You didn’t see the king again until he announced you would accompany him on his journey to the mountain to reclaim from the dwarves what rightfully belongs to the elves. He ordered you placed in one of the wagons, afraid if given your own mount you’d disappear like your companions. Two of his guard rode beside the wagon to ensure you stayed where you belonged, their presence watchful and silent.

When you saw Thranduil, it was always at the end of the day when you were led to his tent to dine and find your rest on the cot he had placed on the opposite side from his own. Or early in the morning when you both rose, broke your fast and prepared for the day’s journey. His gaze followed you as the guards led you away until you were gone from his sight before going to find his own mount.

You didn’t understand your purpose. Why he brought you. He could have easily left you in Mirkwood. Or perhaps he meant to trade you for whatever treasure he believed Thorin would keep from the elves. Despite your friendship, you found it unlikely Thorin would make that deal.

Finally, on the last night before you made camp in the shadow of the mountain, you could take it no longer. “I don’t know why you brought me,” you confessed, hoping for answers.

And for a moment, you thought you’d get them. But he only studied you, eyes deep as the skies above your head, his expression unreadable. “You will, in time,” he said at last. Another beat passed. Two. “Stay close to my guards when we reach the mountain.”

The camp beyond your tent laid quiet. “Why?” you ask, the word meaning so much more than it seemed. Why did he want you to? What did he know? Why did he care?

“There will be danger.” He answered only the obvious, sidestepping your unspoken plea. “I would not see you harmed.”

You nodded in frustration. He looked at you a long moment. Studied you as if you were something precious, something he was afraid to lose. Finally, you turned away, faced the wall of the tent and pretended to sleep.

Thranduil had left you guarded in his tent since you’d arrived at the final destination, your promise to remain with his guard apparently not enough for him to allow you to roam beyond the flaps of your temporary home. You’d made your displeasure known by refusing to speak to him so you’d received no more answers to your many questions. And now you were afraid you’d never get the chance.

The world went from ordinary to chaos in an instant and you now found yourself engulfed in battle. A cacophony of screams and steel surrounded you as you fought, swift and sure. Yet it was never enough as orcs crashed around you. There was no sky, no ground, no respite. Only bodies, blood and blades. You weren’t certain when you’d become separated from the guards, if they even still lived, but now you fought alone, growing weary and desperate.

Orcs were everywhere. An unending flood of enemies. Their blades crashed against yours until you shoved them away with the desperate grace possessed by your father’s people. You sliced, stabbed, cut them down any way you could. You fought with everything you were, but you could not fight them all.

An orc charged toward you, monstrous, larger than the others. Time slowed, stretched as his weapon arced above you, prepared to deliver the fatal blow.

Then Thranduil was there. He moved like light, like the wind, and intercepted the blow meant for you. His swords flashed, lethal and precise as he dispatched the orc. As he saved your life. You stared uncomprehending as your world narrowed to the figure before you. To the king who fought like a man possessed.

“Why?” you pled even as you spun to stop another blade, to end another life. “Why risk yourself for me?”

His eyes met yours briefly in the chaos. “I have dreamed of you,” he finally confessed. “My entire life, you have haunted me.”

You could not breathe. Could not think. His words crashed over you, more devastating than any blow you’d yet taken in the battle. You were his soulmate? It was impossible. You would have known.

“Have you not seen me?” he asked, his voice heavy with yearning, as you fought side by side.

You shook your head, unable to do more. You had no answer for him. No truth that would make sense of his claim.

“You are my dream.” His voice broke as surely as his heart. “My curse. My constant.”

As he slayed the last orc in the group that had charged the two of you, there was a brief lull. He turned you to face him, hands on your arms as he studied you.

“I had never seen your face before that day in the throne room,” you managed, the words a confession, an apology.

He swallowed before drawing you closer and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. The gesture, so filled with emotion, with longing, stole the breath from your lungs. “Be careful.” He whispered the plea then he was gone, leaving you with the echoes of his confession.

When you next saw Thranduil, he rode astride a great white elk, a beast that you had seen only in your dreams until that moment. The image seized you, an echo of all the dreams you’d ever had of the soulmate you thought you’d never find. The battle raged around you as the pieces fell into place. He cut through the enemy lines, regal and relentless. The motions the very ones that had danced in your mind since before you could remember. His twin blades flashed with deadly precision as the majestic beast carried him forward with grace and fury. He was your vision brought to life. Everything you never let yourself hope to find. You lost sight of him again as you turned back to the relentless horde, more determined than ever to survive.

It seemed like days before the chaos calmed and the battle ended. The elves swept across the field, ending the few orcs that still breathed and moving their brethren that needed to the healing tents. You’d fought to save the Company. The Durins were injured but breathing. You’d done the duty charged to you by the grey wizard and now you sought your reward.

You spotted him at last, his form unmistakable as he dismounted from the great elk and issued commands. You ran through the chaos, closing the distance in a blur. You didn’t give him a chance to brace before throwing your arms around his neck, clinging to him, afraid he’d disappear if you let go.

He stiffened in surprise as you collided with him but then his body relaxed in your hold. One arm wrapped around your waist as the other hand found the back of your head to keep you held tightly against him.

You pulled back just enough to see his eyes, just enough to lose yourself in the wonder you saw there. He studied you, searching for the reason, for what had changed between you.

“I never saw your face,” you explained, your words tumbling in your joy as you smiled. “I only saw a regal form upon a white elk. I have found you.”

His expression transformed as confusion gave way to realization. To a joy that mirrored your own. “I had given up hope.” His voice was raw with emotion.

“But I had not. And I am so glad it is you.” You laugh through your tears, filled with the joy that can only come from finding your soulmate. Finding the one destined to be your perfect match.

His arms encircled you, holding you as if he could not bear to let you go. The world faded until there was only him, only you. And it was everything you had ever let yourself hope for.

#thranduil x reader #thranduil fanfiction #hobbit fanfiction #lotr fanfiction #soulmate au

93 notes · View notes

sweetwolfcupcake · 2 days ago

Text

Coveted: Tres

Secret Garden

Category: Headcanons

Yandere Don John x Reader

Part II

Word Count: 8.6K

Warning: Dub-Con, NSFW-ish, violence, emotional and mental abuse, lookism, birth-based discrimination, cheating, court politics, sexism, violence, creepy and toxic behaviour expected from a yandere situation, manipulation, general medieval schemes and poor attempts at medieval world-building. Narrative style oscillates between past and present.

Dividers by @thecutestgrotto

Imagine being coveted by yandere Don John...

Grossly unedited. GIF credit to the owner.

Unsightly

Ever since you were a child, you had known that you were not the most beautiful girl in the room. Your sisters are more ‘pleasant’ to look at, and your mother always had her hopes pinned on them for securing the best of the matches.

Your sisters had always been beautiful. Absolutely sights for the sore eyes, the painters’ perfect muses and poets’ passion.

You, on the other hand…

As a little girl, you never quite understood the meaning of ‘unsightly’. But it was never pleasant to hear. You understood what it truly meant for you after you celebrated your twelfth name day.

When you stood with your sisters, their dazzling beauty would devastate young squires and noble boys alike. But it meant a clear comparison between you and them.

The ‘unsightly’ might have mellowed down to ‘not the most pleasant’, but you were no longer a little girl. You knew what they meant.

You were more like your grandmother. Your father had told you one night, among the many spent in his company while he worked tirelessly at his desk. He began to teach you a thing or two about taxation and the court. She was not the most pleasant woman to look at, but tactical. And he had no shame in admitting that his sharp sight was shaped by her.

He also did not shy away from letting you know that your marital prospects were dim. You knew what it meant even before your sisters had their heads out of the ballads and courtly odes.

Your mother worried, like every other mother, but her attention shifted to preparing them for their bright prospects. Your father, on the other hand, took it upon himself to teach you more than just sewing an intricate embroidery or learning courtly manners.

You learnt languages, taxation, administration, and diplomacy—you learnt how to be indispensable. You learnt political and social tact, to recognise the situation, the people in and against your favour, and the power of silence and subtlety.

Eventually, you found an approach of your own. You preferred your curiosity over complete cunning; you preferred having a good laugh without any ulterior motives.

Sure, you knew how to navigate an increasingly competitive court better than the maidens of your age when you reached marriageable age. But you found beauty in the uncertainty and pain of existence as well.

You never truly appreciated yourself in front of the mirror. Not your physical beauty, at least. Years of being reminded of your ‘unsightly’ features had at last put their imprint on your mind.

Sure, you found humour in the court and its desperation and enjoyed listening to conversations when people were not overly emphasising ‘womanly duties’. But you could not help the deep sense of isolation that crept into you.

You never received a love letter, never had a suitor, and never were the first choice of a painter or a poet, depending on your father’s patronage. It was always your sister or your brother. They had their perfectly sculpted features from your mother’s lineage. You had her hair and the colour of her eyes. And had inherited her graceful mannerisms.

Your marital prospects were tough. But your father always knew how to get his way. He managed to get you the title of a countess. It was not near the capital—neither was your husband a man in the court. The prospect of one day joining the court might have tempted him to accept the marital alliance of the two families.

You were not naive enough to expect a blissful marriage. But when your husband barely looked at you throughout the wedding ceremony and never came to his chamber for the wedding night, you knew it was a bumpy road ahead.

The next morning, when you were introduced to your chambermaid and the people appointed to take care of the mistress of the house, you were also told that your chamber was all prepared to welcome you. There would be no honeymoon period, no sharing of the bed with your husband for a while.

It was not only disappointing but also insulting—being told to leave his chamber through the servants while your husband refused to show his face.

You realised you had underestimated the chasm to cover, but it only hardened your resolve.

From preparing his favourites to arranging meals and even gifting him a horse, a coveted breed, study, agile, and battleworthy, yet laid-back enough for a leisurely ride. But nothing seemed to thaw the cold shoulder he had stubbornly taken against you.

“It was your father’s…arrangement.” His words had a bitter tinge to them when he spoke of the circumstances that led to the wedding during one of the many meals filled with awkward silence and cold air.

“I’m aware of it. After all, it has gains for both houses. That is the reason you agreed.” You kept a light tone but did not shy away from reminding him of the obvious. Two could play the game; you were not brought up to be a rug on the floor.

Your husband’s eyes flashed when he looked up from his plate, but he said nothing, only diverted the conversation.

“The Duque has sent us an invitation for the evening tomorrow. Do not be a disappointment there.” He bit out.

His words stung, but you sipped your wine and ground your teeth as you watched him march out of the dining hall, his meal barely touched.

Duke John, mostly addressed as ‘Duque’ or ‘Don’ by the nobles, even the common folks—they would follow those ruling over them directly, after all.

You had never met the Duke before. But it was impossible to be kept away from the court whispers— the scandalous birth of his, his rise to become a Count, ‘Conde’ as they mocked quietly. His valour was never easy to miss. He was spoken of with admiration and fear,

You had caught glimpses of him on rare occasions. The light stubble, short hair and brooding yet soft hazel-brown eyes were an unparalleled blend of sweet and rugged, that had many ladies of the court fanning themselves. He was a lean, tall figure, dressed mostly in shades of whites, greens, blues, and leathers.

“He has a boyish charm, does he not?” They would often whisper among themselves, giggling.

You were not of the age for courtship yet, but you remembered this; he was charming to look at, but none of the ladies ever expressed their fondness openly. At times, they even felt ashamed for it.

The memories were often fragmented, though. But you understood the sadness that came with being judged and discriminated against based on something one had no hand in.

You had heard of the way he managed to capture the traitor Duke in the North-Western duchy–a far-away yet valued part of the Kingdom. Shortly after, words of ‘Conde John’ being given the title of a Duke, replacing the previous Duke, came floating to you.

By then, you had reached your full bloom, and your father began to consider finding a match for you. Your sisters already had rings on their fingers— rubies and gold, along with enomoured husbands belonging to powerful families. You saw them having it within the span of three summers.

They had never been cruel to you, they loved you like sisters would. But they were mostly indifferent or oblivious to the comparisons you had been the victim of, ever since you were a little girl. A part of you could not help but turn resentful. But it was a tiny part, and you loved your sisters, your family.

You were the closest to your brother, your confidant and best friend since childhood—the one sibling who truly saw your struggles and always had a hand extended to comfort you.

Especially when there were some veiled jabs about how the Duque would be a fine match for you. They could never dare say anything to your father, but words never ceased floating, and perhaps some people were prone to finding cruel ways to amuse themselves.

At last, the spring came when you were married to the Count

And yet, not even a month into the marriage, and you already yearned to see your family.

Your husband wanted to take the forest road. It was easier and shorter. The carriage wheels began rolling at dawn, and by the time the sun was ready to disappear completely into the vast sky, you could see the outline of the Duke’s grand palace.

The horizon of the whispering woods, the rolling hills stretching beyond, and the meadows and his proud palace walls lightly shrouded by the evening mist.

His Duchy encompassed everything your husband ruled, but under his immediate jurisdiction came a bustling town and two idyllic villages. The town stood nowhere near the Kingdom’s capital, which you were used to, but it was peaceful, beautiful and far less crowded.

People could be unreasonably cruel, you concluded when you saw the flourishing and undisturbed streets of the town. The town seemed well-taken care of. The villagers appeared to be fed. Duke John was doing his duty, excelling at it, even.

The winter snow had thawed, and the last of the frosted grass had resilient indicators of early spring, you noticed when you stepped out of the carriage. You did not get the opportunity to admire them, though. You had to hurry your feet to match your husband’s indifferent pace and plaster a smile to cover up for his demeanour.

Now a Duke and better aged, he stood tall, with slightly thickened beard, longer hair and a more muscular build than your hazy teenage memories could trace back to. He was a regal figure in black. The hardened angles of his face matched with his sharp, observant eyes and the general stoic and calm air about him.

You were composed, yet there remained a slight trepidation in your stomach when your husband introduced you to the Duke. You offered a curtsy and replied to his polite question regarding the journey to his residency.

Duke John was still the quiet man you remembered hearing about as a Count, but seeing him in person, you could sense an air of a calculative man around him.

Yet, he eased into the flow of conversation after a few cups of wine and the delicious array of food served on his table. You saw the sharpness of his eyes soften and the graceful stiffness melt slightly.

You found yourself laughing freely as well, without the feeling the need to put too much work, or lead a conversation with caution. For once, you felt truly heard outside your family. Someone not passing judgment on your capabilities or ‘worth’ solely based on your appearance.

Despite the callous whispers behind your back or wrapped in ‘humour’, you came to believe in your capabilities. You might be unsightly in people’s eyes, but you knew the court and you knew administration, along with four different languages and having a secret talent and love for riding horses.

You preferred the stallions, not always easy to tame and keep in check, but you prided yourself on having a good hand at taming them without using much of the whip. It always felt cruel to you.

Besides, the bond formed with those beautiful creatures was unlike any other. They understood you, they never passed judgments on your ‘unsightliness’.

The Duke had been kind to you; he seemed to be a kind man overall. Perhaps slightly stiff at times and guarded, but when you managed to crack the walls slightly, you forgot to count the candles being burnt one after another to keep the dining hall lit up.

He was nothing like the cold, calculative and cruel man the court loved to spin tales about. You were not naive. You knew he had to be tactful and perhaps even brutal to sit on a Duke’s chair.

But he was a man who made you feel seen and feel like a person– a complete being comprising of layers, emotions, interests, not just a face that was expected to be pretty and now was a disappointment through and through.

You assumed that the Duke, famous for his solitary nature, would be a rare sight at gatherings, balls and festivities. But you were pleasantly surprised to see him there more often than expected.

The yearly and monthly invitations that were politely declined with a token of appreciation sent were now being accepted, and it often made the hosts more anxious.

Not because they respected him–no, they were all about painted smiles and snide remarks whispered and muttered. However, he was still the Duke of one of the most important provinces of the Kingdom, and the nobles had good enough sense not to go out of their way to disrespect him.

Every time his gaze met yours, he acknowledged you with a nod, the sharpness of his eyes seemed to be a part of imagination—why would they soften just for you?

Guilt gnawed at your chest when you felt the flutter in your heart every time you crossed paths with him—it was faint at first. One butterfly barely grazing its soft wings against your hardened stomach.

And yet you felt nothing short of deep empathy for the Duke who was addressed as ‘Duque’, and if someone was feeling bold enough, ‘Don’. This was a blatant disrespect.

But you could no longer stand it in one of the many grand balls in the Kingdom. Duke John was one of the few people whose eyes had never assessed your worth by your ‘unsightliness’.

So when your husband bowed to him and greeted him using the term ‘Duque’ in his perfect Spanish, like all other nobles under the golden chandeliers, you dared to step forward, addressing him as ‘Duke’.

The hall fell into a brief hush, and you barely held back a scoff. Your husband gave you a piercing glance but covered it quickly. His shoulders remained tense, though. But you could not bring yourself to care. Why would you care for a crowd that reeked of hypocrisy and holloweness?

But when you looked up, you were powerless to contain the gasp (thankfully quiet). Duke John had no smile or softness, but his eyes seemed darker than an abyss, and you could not help but think if you had tossed a forbidden dice? Picked something unknown, dangerous even.

It was as if his eyes had stripped you bare of thoughts and inhibitions and left you no choice but to sink to your knees and surrender as your most vulnerable, truest self was right before his eyes– exposed, unguarded.

That night, you thought of him longer than you ever had, and every time you closed your eyes, his deep, dark stare would appear, leaving your throat parched and your body tense.

You thought you could do away with it. It would fade away with time, and you could focus on doing your duty and understanding the County.

Your husband was not only neglectful of you, but of his County as well. And this was the perfect opportunity for you to turn truly indispensable. Your marriage was not going anywhere. Even after months, the wedding was yet to be consummated

But when Duke John began to frequent your County, the butterflies only grew in numbers and the flutter turned to a strange heat—one you never experienced for your husband, even after months of marriage.

This heat was different from the warmth in your heart. The heat was in the shade of his dark eyes, you felt it on yourself even when your back was turned. The heat travelled to your abdomen and filled your mind with his thoughts and glimpses in your nightly dreams.

You were not oblivious. You felt how his stare lingered when he assumed you never noticed. His presence stretched beyond necessary.

Yet, for all his stoic demeanour and the graceful enigma he carried himself with, the melancholic air within him felt so deeply familiar, it was almost innate. Like still water, you were afraid to disturb; you could only peer at the surface, hoping to see deeper.

You knew it was a dangerous thing to do. But you told yourself that there was no harm, after all. You were curious, and the Duke was indeed intriguing.

That was until you caught your chambermaid looking through your letters one day. You did not confront her right away, you had to be clever about it. You were suspicious that she was a spy from the enemy territory. She had been working in the palace long before being made your chambermaid.

You followed her instead. And when she met with the stable boy, clearly relying on information, you hid behind the shadows and waited for the right moment. It came when the stable boy rode away into the darkness

It was then that you confronted her. Threatening to throw her into the dungeons and send away her little brother to work in the treacherous ore mines in the remote lands. She relented, falling on her knees for the sake of her little brother.

Turned out, she had been working as the Duke’s informant for a while. He liked to keep an eye on those under his jurisdiction.

“What are his intentions with the Count?” You demanded.

You felt strangely detached from the situation, almost horrified at the realisation that you cared little about your husband, not even a quarter of how concerned you were regarding securing your position and your family’s influence.

The prospect of cementing your title by reproducing an heir seemed challenging. But you could take up the political role. Take care of his County while he drank himself to sleep in his mistress’ arms.

You had already become versed in the County’s administration and had made up your mind to open a centre for teaching.

You were not sure of the Duke’s intentions and did not trust the maid. So you did what you needed to. Sent her brother away to the country manor belonging to your father. It was the temporary set-up for the pupils until the centre was constructed.

The woman loved her brother, and you saw no better to have her under your thumb. The boy would be educated and become a gentleman, while she would be working for you.

It soon became clear to you, though, that the Duke had an interest in you. Not your husband, his county, his closest associates, but…you.

You allowed the pieces of information regarding your spiralling marriage to be passed on to him unfiltered.

You did not wish to admit it, but your actions never failed to remind you that you were playing a dangerous gamble.

It was dangerous to consume special herbs before the nights your husband decided to visit your chamber.

He was doing his duty and never cared about even trying to make it pleasurable for you. But you felt relieved to know that his seed would never take root in your womb.

It was dangerous to instruct the chambermaid to keep the Count’s wine flowing— he would be either too drunk to care about visiting your chamber, or too engrossed with his mistresses to even overlook the happenings of the County.

You knew you were playing a dangerous game when you paid a discreet visit to his favourite. A widow of a lord of lower standing. You made a pact with her that she could keep your husband’s attention and the gifts he lavished her with. But she must keep his attention away from his administration and be distanced from his close associates.

You told yourself that after almost a year of the wedding, his regular jibes and blatant disrespect had finally gotten to you. You told yourself you were doing everything to become indispensable and ensure your family’s position and influence.

You tried to make things better. God knew you did. But the final state broke when he shamelessly showed concern over the appearance of the child when you gave birth to one-

“My bloodline shall perish if, God forbid, my children share your… features.”

“What do you mean?” You asked lowly, hands already moving to tie back your gown

You had flower petals put on the bed, fragrant oils rubbed all over you.

You made sure that you were in your best appearance. All this, only for him to refuse to bed you until most of the candles were snuffed out.

“I am merely plagued by the thought—”

“By what? That your children be hideous? You find me so unsightly, don’t you? Why keep this garb? Say it here, in front of me.”

“You're stirring yourself up for nothing.”

“Nothing?” Your voice raised, “I am the only one there who labours for this marriage to be something!” Your voice rose further before cracking while tears filled your eyes.

“You know the prospects are dim in this world for the unsightly. My concerns are not silly thoughts; they sit heavy with me.”

"If so concerned, why say yes to this marriage? Did my father not send you my portrait?”

“It is a strategic alliance! I get to join the court, and when the time comes, I will think about supporting your father for a seat in the council.”

“My father is no desperate beggar.”

“He was desperate to get rid of you, though. But I understand.” Your hand twitched, your ears heated, and a tear escaped your eye.

In a manner, perhaps it was some sort of heartbreak. You were expecting at least a peaceful friendship, understanding. You thought he would thaw. Maybe you both could find love someday.

But what truly made your knees weaken was how humiliated you felt. And there was no trace of regret on his arrogant face. You had simply nodded.

“Let us get this done away then. Do our duty.” You did not care if he could hear the venom in your voice; the marriage was dead to you already.

You let your tears flow that night when he was emptying inside you, and you felt no different than the bed you two were on.

Something in you snapped in you that night. You could not allow yourself to be treated like that. You were an (L/N), and you held yourself with pride like the rest of the L/Ns.

You were unsure what you were playing at, asking the chambermaid to add and omit some things. The Count visited you at least once a month, but you instructed her to tell the stable boy that the visits were rare and held no pattern.

You had yet to find out the real reason for the Duke’s interest in you. Perhaps it was your family? You did not know, and had no answer.

Until Duke John visited for a short stay in your county during the onset of autumn. When the trees were turning away from the bright greens and bending into hues of the sunset as the harvest neared. The cold nipped your skin slightly sharper, and it rained more often–ice on skin, frost on the ground.

Disturbing the softened beds of the autumn soil, came riding the Duke on the most majestic stallion you had ever seen. The gorgeous beast that it was– its ebony shone proudly under the early autumn sun, visibly strong, built for war and long days.

And as reluctant as you were to admit it, you felt like spring had knocked on your lonely doors for the second time of the year. His gentle eyes were aster blooms.

While you did love the garden of your palace, you limited your visits during the colder days.

Yet you found yourself lingering around the garden more. You told yourself that you needed to keep up with the discussions regarding the borders. After all, it was you who took care of the county, not your husband. His nights were…busy.

Every time your eyes met the Duke’s, you showed him due respect and smiled too, having eased in his presence. Yet something did stir within you. You were afraid of it. You refused to even think of it.

But the thoughts would slither into your dreams and waking mind alike– thoughts of the Duke, and sometimes, you thought if he would be a good husband to his wife. He seemed to be a good man. But ever since you caught your chambermaid, you had been cautious.

Not sure what you were playing at, but deep down, you simply doid not wish to admit it.

The heat in his eyes warmed you in ways you could never share with another soul. In the eyes of the people, you had to keep the reputation of a good wife, after all.

And a good wife would never carry another man’s thoughts to bed. A good wife would never touch herself thinking of a man who wasn’t her husband.

A good wife would not allow herself to be close to another man, all alone in the study during late hours, when there were no guards stationed or servants around.

Yet you did. Night after night. You could have easily taken scrolls back to your chamber after the first night. When Duke John stood at the doorway, the jest in the conversation suddenly broke into cackling tension in the air with one sentence.

Not the kind to draw swords, but the one to sit on one’s lips and long for another.

It was tempting to be in the presence of a man whose eyes seemed to see beyond your ‘unsightliness’.

Deep down, you always knew that you were not hideous, simply not as striking as your siblings, or any woman expected to be of your standing. But the lifelong emphasis on your lack of beauty left a deep impact on you.

The fact that no one, not even your husband, saw your value beyond your skin made your blood boil at times. It was a rage stemming out of pain, and it stayed, not erupting but simmering just below the surface, as if waiting for something to break through every rational and moral thought remaining.

And the surface did break. It broke on the fourth night of you being alone in the study with John. He leaned in to kiss you first, but you did not pull away. It was his hand sliding up to your thigh, bunching up your gown, but it was you who shoved the scrolls and quills away to make room to sit on the heavy desk and gave him space to stand between your legs.

It was a moment of frenzy, truly. But you were not completely lost– intensely tempted, yet coherent. It was becoming clear that he might be simply interested in you. But you could not let yourself believe that a man of his standing would risk too much for a woman like you.

You could risk your fall based on assumptions. So you stopped. Despite how loving and desperate his hands felt, how reverent his lips were, you stopped and you stopped him. You were surprised at how far you let him take this, but not as shocked or even nearly as ashamed as you pretended to be.

Leaving him standing there and rushing out of the room, ignoring the yearning and desperation in his voice when he called after you. You wish your heart did not feel the pinch at his voice, but the ache bloomed, and you hissed.

Thinking with your heart had brought you only pain and humiliation. You refused to make the same mistake again.

You could not sleep that night, waiting for a sign. If it were merely lust, then he would probably walk away with wounded pride and despise your whole being for the rest of his days. But you dared to hope that it was something more.

And just before the crack of dawn, a letter slipped in through the gap between your chamber’s doors and the floor. You tried to be quiet on your feet as you rushed to get it, only to find a pair of pearl earrings hidden under the folds. They were beautiful, and so were his words.

The letter was all the push you needed.

You knew nothing would come out of your marriage with the Count. Besides, you could use his mistress to keep him away from his associates for so long. They were filling his ears for a divorce, and you refused to be the ‘unwanted wife’, stripped of her titles and powers.

For the first time, you were at the receiving end of flattering words–not shallow, though–they were deep and moving. You did not consider yourself stone-hearted. But after the failure of your marriage, which also crushed all future prospective love, you had grown wary and kept your walls up.

You chose your mind, not your heart. You now thought with your head intact on your shoulders, trying to think of every possibility and perspective all at once.

And yet, there was something so honest, melancholic and unsettling about the letter and his confessions of love. It seemed as if fate had landed an opportunity straight on your lap.

But you were no erratic fool. You had to know. Actions spoke more than words, and Duke John could well be a master of letters. Who knew?

So you wore the earrings to see him off, deliberately keeping your hair down, yet easy on your ears, some movements or a breeze could reveal the delicate pearls.

You watched the darkness flash in the Duke’s eyes and then followed relief. It was swift, so you did not let your gaze linger before he left.

The letters came. They kept coming. Your chambermaid delivered each one of them discreetly to you. But you did not write back. You knew that you had to be crafty. Patience was a virtue, after all. And you learnt this from your father.

Meanwhile, you let her convey bits and pieces about you and your hopeless marital situation to the Duke, adding things subtly, tactfully. Like the Count regularly bringing his mistresses home and having no shame in criticising your appearance, even outside the chamber doors.

In reality, your husband rarely brought any of his mistresses to the palace, preferring to meet them at their place or in the hunting lodge deep in the woods instead. He was too concerned for his reputation to criticise you outside the chamber doors. But it was painfully apparent that it was a loveless marriage.

The little bending of words would be impactful in the long run, you knew.

Duke John seemed infatuated with you for reasons you struggled to decipher and believe sometimes. But you knew if you played your cards right, you could not only elevate your social standing but also open opportunities for your family.

Your father did not favour the Duke— not because of his birth, but due to the knowledge that once the crown Prince ascended the throne, the Duke and his allies in the court would be at risk of losing their heads or titles. Perhaps both.

But you saw him differently. No longer under your father’s shadow, you saw that the tide was changing. The eldest Prince was reckless, and yet his mother pushed for his name for the throne, since he would be an easy puppet.

The court was evolving—the loyalties were shifting. The second Prince’s name was being whispered in discretion.

This was an opportunity because, as you had heard, the second Prince was closer to the King, the father, and the King trusted Duke John.

You knew that your patience bore fruit when the Duke invited you and your husband to the annual winter celebrations.

You knew your patience bore fruit when you felt him follow you to your chamber.

You knew your patience bore fruit when you saw his burning eyes.

You were not ashamed to admit that it intimidated you. Turned your heartbeat erratic and your throat slightly dry. But there was no stepping back now. It was a wildfire you started.

You thought you had everything laid out as you wanted. It was your court. You thought you were in complete control.

But you were humbled as soon as his lips touched you. You should have known that would be your undoing. He almost had you before, and it left you burning for more. This time, his hold was much firmer, and your will was not as strong as you thought. His voice was a siren’s call– and you were a careless victim.

You were lying underneath him before you knew it. You should have pushed him away. That was what you were to do. To tempt and turn him more desperate than ever. To see how far he was willing to go.

But the moment you watched his eyes look at you with a poet’s admiration and a beast’s hunger, you were in tears. Every rational thought and restraint flew away, and you surrendered to his deft tongue and fingers. The battle within you turned muffled with the fog of lust, pleasure and something beyond.

You learnt what making love truly felt like, what was so intensely pleasurable about a man appreciating your body. You screamed and cried– not out of anguish, resentment or rage– it was unadulterated pleasure.

The fire in your veins burned down and dissolved all thoughts but his. His tongue, his lips, his fingers, his manhood. Each movement was dedicated to you. You felt it. And you wanted more. He was everything a woman would want.

At dawn, when you woke to your senses after a deep, peaceful sleep in his arms, you were frozen for a moment. The sudden fear that he would not want you anymore since he had already had you, weighed down your stomach.

When he left your chamber before the first rays of dawn, he seemed genuinely sad at having to do so. But in your two years as a countess, you had learnt to never trust appearance. It could all be an act. And you had given away your best card.

You returned to the county with stiff shoulders, tension coiled in your whole body until you remembered that you had promised him to write to him.

It was your final and the most risky gamble. But you were ready to take the risk. You deserved better. You wanted better. You would be a Duchess and a beloved wife.

It was risky, but you wrote back–the letter tucked carefully between folds of a pair of clothes with rare embroidery. If your gamble was right, the letter should be the one to finally push John over the edge.

Your days remained tense when there was no response. But you continued to instruct the chambermaid to let the stable boy have pieces and bits regarding your deteriorating relationship with the Count.

Something in you had you compelled to pull out the letters John had sent you over the months and read them through the night and the next day. You were growing steadily desperate. You wanted this marriage annulled before the count had the chance to do it. That would put you and your family at a disadvantageous position.

You had taken a leap in the dark because you wanted to have everything you knew you deserved.

But it had begun to feel as if you were falling down, even though you tried to keep calm.

And yet it all came crashing down the night you carelessly left the letters on your desk in the chamber, for your husband to discover them when he came there, unannounced. You had been gone for only a short while. But that was enough hell to break loose.

And it did.

“You WHORE! You disloyal bitch! How long has this been going?” He was drunk, but strong enough to yank you by your hair.

“You do not get to touch me! You are not a man enough to be my husband––”

The slap cracked on your skin like lightning, but you refused to make a sound to show your pain. If anything, it fuelled your rage.

“I slept with him. The night of the winter festivities, I slept with him. And he was more of a man than you could ever be!" You spit out, and you had never felt a greater relief.

Even when his hand was on your neck, the next moment, squeezing to the point that made you choke. Your chambermaid returned just in time, pulling him off. But he turned his fury on her, backhanding her.

“Leave her out of this, you coward!” You pushed him to the ground, which sent his eyes blazing.

But before he could retaliate, a heavy fist knocked on the chamber doors “My Lord, Duke John is here with armed men and demands to see you.” The guard’s voice held urgency, but you almost cried in relief.

Still raging and drunk enough not to decipher the danger, he rushed to yank open the doors and ordered his guards to see to the situation.

“Go, go, find him and let him know that my husband has discovered the letters, hurry, go!” You whispered to your chambermaid, urging her to slip away while your husband’s attention was diverted.

He was seething when he turned his attention back to you “He is here for you, isn’t he? That bastard for his hideous whore!”

You said nothing, eyeing him cautiously, ready to defend yourself anyway you needed. It was the most deranged you had seen him.

You had to keep him from slipping away. At least until John found him.

“You had mistresses, too. You resented this marriage, you despised me and yet here you stand, wailing like a child who had lost his toy.”

“You vile woman! You will regret this transgression.”

“Not with my father still in court, I would like to see you try putting me on trial.”

“Oh, there would be no trial for a dead wife and letters left behind.” He hissed, pulling at your hair again.

“You are digging your grave.” You growled out, clawing at his hand, reaching out for the letter-opener on the desk behind you.

The distinct sound of armour clanking was faint along with the muffled grunts, but they broke through the thick air of the palace

You did not know what he was thinking– if he was mad with fury, or simply drunk out of his senses, but he pushed you away and marched out of the chamber. Unarmed and raging with the letters still clutched in his hand.

“WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?” You heard him holler as he marched further into the darkened hallway. You listened closely when he cried out in accusation, but he was cut off midway.

You knew it was John, and something in you knew that your husband probably regretted stepping out unarmed. But you could not bring yourself to care. Moments later, John walked in. The letters were safely in his hand, but bloodied. He reeked of blood, but you were so elated, you could throw yourself in his arms.

“John…” You realised your cheeks were damp and bruised when it hurt to smile.

But it did not matter. Nothing mattered when his raging eyes met yours as he rushed to you, cupping your unharmed cheek and pulling you to a kiss that made you surrender.

You melted into his arms, feeling the crushing weight of fear, exhaustion and the throbbing pain. But you knew it was over. You knew were safe.

“H–he found out and—” you stuttered out, still recovering from what had transpired.

But when he assured you that he ‘took care of it’, you believed him.

You were surprised and confused when he tossed away the letters into the fire, and he filled you in about your husband’s apparent ‘treason’. You knew something was wrong, but could not think deeper at the moment.

You accepted the letter he handed to you. A letter that was written in your hand, but you knew you had never written. But you went ahead with it anyway. Seeing that the situation had already spiralled out of your hands. All that was left was to follow the currents.

You hid your confusion and relief under your shock and fear when it was revealed that the King had sent John and his most trusted knight to bring your husband, and that your husband was dead.

You had no sympathy left in your heart for the man who lay bloody in the hallway. You were, though, slightly unsettled by the manner of his death. The corpse stared back at you vacantly as you walked past it.

“Don’t look,” John whispered into your ear.

With the royal knight and his men already gone, John took the liberty of holding you close to your shoulder. Your husband’s body was to be taken to the capital. The trial was already conclusive. There was not much to be done.

“Clear all of this. Take him away. The rest of you, prepare a carriage,” he ordered the guards, who quickly went to carry out their duties.

You spent your journey in silence and solitude. You were grateful for it. You needed time to let the events of the night sink in. John rode his stallion, never straying too far from the carriage.

Duke John was a man who preferred the peace of solitude and silence. But the silence made you uneasy this time. Even when he sat on his knees to tend to your bruises himself after returning to his residence.

In your time in the carriage, you had managed to string together the events and words, realising what was truly at play.

“Is all this your making, my Duke?” You managed to gather the courage to ask, having realised and witnessed his sword and mind at play.

It was dangerous. But you would be lying to yourself if you were not impressed, or felt something akin to a thrill slithering faintly down your spine.

“Sweetheart, you left me no choice. You wish to repent? We can repent together. I, for not acting sooner and letting you slip away, and you, for tormenting me.”

That was all the confirmation you needed to know that the leap in the dark was never in vain. You had made the right gamble. It should have frightened you, but you deemed that it was something you could handle, looking at everything that was about to land right on your lap.

You could put down your guard and surrender to this man someday. He deserved it. He could have you.

This man, despite his tact, his hard-earned power and brutal sword, was on his knees for love. For you.

Maybe one day, he would restore your belief in love as well, make you think with your heart now and then.

For once, it was you who was the subject of true deep admiration. Unsettling, but that, you believed, would be no harm.

“Oh, John…I thought I would never see you again.” Despite every bent circumstance and twisted words, you meant those.

You were brave enough to acknowledge that you meant it from your heart when you cupped his cheeks and kissed him.

It was a sweet disaster from there. The salve forgotten, and clothes discarded. He had you in his arms again. This time, it was your conscious surrender.

Sounds of desire and the delicious pleasure filled the air. The evident sheen over your naked, tangled bodies, and the sensation akin to floating that only his safe arms could give you, told the tale.

You had won the war, there was only a battle to handle ahead— changing your father’s mind regarding John’s prospects and standing.

Days later, your father rode to Duke John’s palace to take you back home. Your sweet home near the capital. The trial, the letter and the public honour your family received on your behalf kept him from reaching sooner. He could have sent your brother, but John had a letter sent, exclusively inviting your father.

He was laying the perfect trap, you realised when your stay under the Duke’s roof extended beyond what would be considered ‘appropriate’ in the societal eyes.

Even though not a soul would tell how the Duke sat by your side for every meal. Not a soul would tell how every night, he would walk into your chamber, and the hallways would echo with jovial laughter and squeals before erupting into mewls, screams and grunts.

There were only a handful allowed in that part of the palace. Your secret Eden. Where only the most trusted dwelt.

The day your father arrived, you went running into his arms. You had missed him, and so did he.

“My Darling, my brave child. When did you grow up so much?”

“When I was married to the wrong man.” You whispered into his chest. A part of you was perhaps slightly resentful towards your family, too.

“Oh, my love. If I had known…If I had—”

“Count (L/N). I have heard nothing but great tales of you.” John stepped closer, welcoming him.

“Your Grace,” your father let go of you, bowing in respect, “I cannot think of any manner that would be adequate to express my gratitude.”

John smiled, “You are very kind and admired. I see where your daughter attained her best traits from.” He smiled and glanced at you before meeting your father's eyes again. “May I have a word with you in private?” John showed him the way towards his study.

You paced around your chamber for hours. You knew John was a skilled negotiator, but you knew your father and his ambitions as well. You hoped that he could see the potential the alliance between the Duke and your family held.

When your father came to your chamber, he was quiet “Are you ready to go? We are heading for the capital. The King wishes to thank you in person, child.”

You sighed and nodded. You had no reason to stay. But when John came to see you off, and had no frown or tension in his jaws, you knew that he was victorious, and it filled you with relief.

“I am summoned as well. I shall arrive in the capital soon. You can be brave for me till then, can you not?” His voice was no more than a discreet whisper, and you could only nod.

Once inside the carriage and off towards the destination, your father finally spoke.

“He has proposed marriage. Now, I know you might need time to mourn–”

“I do not think so.” You looked into his assessing eyes before it lit with realisation.

“You think he would be good to you, my child?”

“I know he would.” You admitted quietly. No guilt, or shame “If it is his position you worry about, you should remember that his dearest friend is the hand of the King; he has the King’s confidence as well. The court has softened towards him, and his military might is unmatched. The Kingdom needs him more than ever.” You added

“It is the small council that truly matters.”

“And he can make your dreams come true.”

Your father sighed, “You truly are your grandmother’s blood. Grew up within two springs?”

You responded with a faint smile, “I had to do what I had to do.”

“Why should we put our trust in him?”

“Back home, how many stallions did I own, father?”

“They are still yours. They miss you. But why do you ask?”

“Just tell me. How many?”

“Seven.”

“And their temperaments? How are they now?”

“They understand, corporate even. But none yield to anyone like they yielded to you. Your bond was different.”

You looked outside, gazing at the horses trotting by the carriage.

“I prided myself for taming them like no one could. I love them, sure. But I loved the fact that they were tamed by me, more.”

“I find riddles more challenging with age, child.”

You turned to look at him with a chuckle, “John is the most majestic, fierce yet untamed stallion out there. Runs on his own conditions, at his own pace, and people are fooled into mistaking it as obedience. He’s tactful, not obedient.”

“There’s a difference between a man and a stallion, love. Could you tame the Count?”

“Tch. he wasn’t half a man, and way beyond my reach. I was tired and disgusted by him.”

“What about the Duke? You think you can tame a man like him?”

“I believe I already did. I do not want a puppet. Just the husband I deserve.”

“Had it been a treason after all?” He asked all the right questions.

“The count got what he deserved.”

Your father sighed and nodded. You did not miss the flash of pride in his eyes.

At the capital, you were welcomed by the most trusted knight of the King and were presented before him. The King thanked you and bestowed more lands on your family. But the best win was when your brother was given the county to rule, once belonging to your husband.

While your father did not speak to the King regarding the Duke’s proposal. When John came to the capital, you struggled to contain your smile. It was he who informed the King and sought his blessing for the wedding. The King had no reason to deny his son this happiness.

With the monarch’s approval, there was no objection left to be put forward. John’s loyalty to the King was rewarded with a grand wedding, and you walked into the chapel under the fresh Spring sun.

Oh, to have the groom’s eyes on you, fused with heat and tenderness. So delicate in balance, it seemed he was on weaker restraints. But he was patient. You admired that about him.

It truly felt like a wedding. You experienced how it felt to be a desired and admired bride. You stared at your reflection for the longest that morning. You could at last do it. You admired yourself.

His vows never felt shallow or squeezed out, nor did his eyes have a spectre of doubt. You were admired and desired. Wanted, there was nothing to doubt anymore. You believed him. He gave you every reason to.

The kiss that bound you two was tender yet no lacking in passion. Neither did he attempt to hide his admiration. There whispers, sniggers and even admiration. But it was your day of victory, and nothing mattered.

The celebration continued when you returned to his palace as its mistress–the duchess. Beaming with pride after hearing whispers of your father’s possible entrance into the King’s council.

You finally won.

You affirm yourself, remembering everything that led you to this seat by the Duke, as his beloved duchess, his adored wife. His hands have found ways to keep touching you throughout the celebrations–innocuous but unabashedly loving.

You finally have earned what you always deserved. It is almost as real as a fairytale when you pull yourself back from the twisted memory lane. From the unsightly to the admired.

“Tell me you love me.” Your new husband leans in, whispering his demand into your ear, as you both watch the celebrations.

You turn to him with a smile, “You are everything I ever wanted, my most noble Duke, my husband,” and kiss him, offering him nothing but the truth.

But you knew that he was the man you could fall in love with. You would, of course, you would.

Why would those sweet brown eyes not enchant you with their depths and devotion?

How long would your heart be able to keep its guards against the reverent lips, the deft, long fingers and the delicious lips?

How much would you be able to hold back against the pleasure you feel when he fills you to the brim? When do you feel loved and appreciated?

You know you will melt like a burning candle soon. It is inevitable with a man like John.

You love your stallions too– adore them. But first, you tamed them.

Duke John was much more than a stallion, actually. But it is irresistible to tame the beast in him. Make it yield to no one but you. You will love that beast too. You will eventually come to love all of him— the light, the dark, the ugly.

But only after you have made sure to make your position impossible to challenge. Then, you will ease him into you– show him the good, the bad, the shrewd in you. You know a man like him will appreciate your tact, and the woman you have come to be after your challenging first marriage– a sad affair before the ultimate victory.

“I love you. You know that, don't you?”

You smile, gazing into his sincere eyes, “I would not dare doubt you on this.” You admit with a knowing smile.

****

Phew...This was long. And Tumblr, for some reason,n was being tricky. Anyway, here it is, the final part. Don John and the events from the reader's perspective.

#don john x reader #yandere don john #yandere don john x reader #keanu reeves imagine #keanuverse #yandere duke #yandere imagine

57 notes · View notes

mommydoomy · 13 hours ago

Text

1. Ok, He is also a fictional character no matter how real or complex he may seem at times.

2. Yep, non-human character. Black Butler isn't exactly filled with gratuitous amounts of world building but we can pretty safely say that a demon has significantly different moral alignments and cares way less about societal expectations than a human.

3. Your not really wrong here. Sebastian does want his soul this is correct, however a demon that has lived as long as him and is as powerful and conniving as he is could have simply tricked Ciel into giving him his soul if that's alllll he cared about. He finds Ciel entertaining and thinks it's fun to play the butler role, he is content to wait. Now in most cultures around the world the soul is the cumulative of all someone is, their life force, energy memories, so in order to find someone's soul desirable one must also to some degree reasonably find them desirable.

4. Lets assume these rumors are completely unfounded, that it was never intended to be a dark yaoi, but the author lightened it up in order to publish it and actually make a profit. The author has all but outright said she ships it, and frequently draws or oks official art and manga panels with Sebastian and Ciel being in romantic or downright sexual situations.

5. I'm really beginning to think you and other antes watch the show with a blindfold on and earplugs. Thier are countless metaphors, parallels, and occasions where they have significant chemistry. Many of them are subtle and interwoven within the series rather than something to be played off for a laugh and used to imply that it is a joke.

6. People can ship and self-ship as they like. X reader Is not a new concept not by a long shot and a lot of it is actually produced by antis. And thier is a ton of this content, particularly surrounding Sebastian X reader, if people wanted that content there is and abundance of it, they didn't need to project it onto works shiping Ciel and Sebastian though there may have been overlap for those who enjoy both.

7. Im kinda thinking you missed the point of black butler entirely. Our main character was kidnapped and sexually abused by a demonic cult along with his twin being sacrificed in front of him and his family home burning down causing the death of his mother and father. He doesn't get to be a kid, he is a young teenager who is forced to grow up and take a mantle of the Queen's guard dog entrenched in the criminal underworld along with running his families company. He made the deal with sebastian in order to take revenge and find out why his parents died that night. He is also fond of Lizzy very clearly and cares about her but there are romantic chemistry is very limited, they are also related cousins which would also make them a problematic ship by anti terms. Ciel spends significantly more time and has significantly more chemistry with Sebastian then Lizzie, even in book of the Atlantic for example where Lizzie got to be in the spotlight.

8. This is fair, romance is not necessarily a core theme of the series. But sexual desire, hunger, and intimacy are, If they were to become candidate in any capacity it wouldn't be a fluffy romance where they got married and rode into the sunset. It would be something like Sebastian having sex with ciel as he finally took his soul or some other hint of damning evidence that their relationship is far more than master and butler.

Thier relationship dynamics, whether platonic or sexual are very interesting, and I even found some fanfiction where they have a parental sort of bond instead that were very cute. However one has to be blind deaf and stupid to not realize that there is a romantic and or sexual undertone to the characters actions and interactions, at best it is intimate.

And the people spewing that Sebastian right out the box is meant to be a father figure to Ciel really need to reevaluate their relationship with their own parents, and may need to seek help.

I FUCKING HATE PEOPLE WHO SHIP CIEL AND SEBASTIAN FROM BLACK BUTLER!

There is so much wrong with this ship and I have a full LIST of reasons why you are disgusting if you ship it.

1. CIEL IS A MINOR. HE IS 13. I don't care that he acts like an adult sometimes or that he's emotionally mature, he is thirteen fucking years old.

2. Sebastian is like a thousand years old. He's ancient. Enough said.

3. Sebastian cares about Ciel mainly because of the contract. I'm not saying that's the only reason, but Sebastian is mainly with Ciel so he can munch on his soul and have some fun before he finds a new contractor. I do believe Sebastian might have grown more attached to Ciel, but at the end of the day, Sebastian just wants his soul ¯\(ツ)/¯

4. I'm aware that there are rumours that Black Butler was going to be some gross hardcore yaoi series, but the author changed it. I DON'T GIVE A FUCK IF THERE ARE SOME REMINENTS OF WHAT BLACK BUTLER MIGHT'VE BEEN, THEY AREN'T A SHIP.

5. There is next to no evidence that they will/are canon. Fight me on this.

6. Some people say it's because the series is old and the people who used to read this were desperate to be with Sebastian or Ciel whoever, and tried to ship them to feed their own dreams but SERIOUSLY. Get a life please 💀

7. Ciel doesn't have a romantic chemistry any characters apart from Lizzy, and he doesn't even seem overly interested in her ngl 💀 And again, he's 13 let the kid just be a kid.

8. The series is most likely never going to go down a romantic path. It's about demons, mystery, and crime fighting. There's a lot more but those are BASICALLY THE MAIN THEMES. not romance.

I could think up so many more, but my fingers are sore from typing. Don't get me wrong, I'm all here for platonic sebaciel because I find their dynamic interesting, but pairing the characters romantically? 🤮

#doom barks

525 notes · View notes

shana-reviews-tmblr · 2 days ago

Text

-Goofy and Stolas, Two Flawed Fatherly Goofs-

And how understanding the former, helps us understand and sympathize with the latter.

Before reading I would like to ask that if anyone has watched Helluva Boss and both Goofy Movies, you can skim through the first part of this thread and go to: Character Analysis and Comparison as I will be recapping the some key episodes from Helluva Boss as well as both Goofy movies for any newcomers who may not know about either.

Now I've watched Helluva Boss since it debuted back in 2019 and at first, I wasn't too keen on it being anything more than a comedy series centered around a group of assassin demons from hell called I.M.P (Immediate Murder Professionals) getting into hijinks.

Tl;dr: I.M.P is an assassination company run by Blitz, the main protagonist of the series, as they take on contracts from sinners who died and went to hell but seek revenge on anyone they hated or were wronged by back on earth. In order for them to get to earth they needed to use a magical grimoire that Stolas "loans" to Blitz in exchange for the two spending 1 night on the full moon each month getting down and dirty in the sheets so they can have access to Earth as Imps are not normally allowed to that level of magic.

all of that changed in S1 ep2 "Loo Loo Land"

In the 2nd ep of the show, we were see that the series would be more than just wacky hijinks and that this would be a story with a heart to it as we are introduced to Stolas, I.M.P's benefactor, and his family life.

We learn during Loo Loo Land that Stolas has a somewhat strained relationship with his daughter, Octavia.

this is mostly due to the fact that when she was younger, her and her father were extremely close, however after some time after she grew into her late teen years, Stolas had gotten into an affair with none other than Blitz.

Things became hostile within the household as Stella would throw tantrums and wreck everything that was Stolas' all the while Via was watching the family she had thought was happy being together, fall apart.

To try and remedy this, Stolas takes Via to an amusement park, the titular "Loo Loo Land" which she use to enjoy going to when she was a child, however things do not go as planned as Via had to spend the day watching her father flirt with Blitz, whom he hired as a bodyguard.

At her limit and frustrated with watching her father act this way, Via storms off until Stolas catches up with her and the two have a heart-to-heart moment where Via opens up to her father about her fears of him leaving her for Blitz and while Stolas struggles to and is ultimately unable to tell Via the truth about why everything is happening and explain to her the relationship he has with Stella, he assures her that he would never abandon her.

The episode ends happily as Via and Stolas' relationship was saved from being burned down, even though everything else around them was being burned to a crisp courtesy of Blitz...um, Foreshadow?

Stolas and Via's relationship would be touched on again in S2 ep2 "Seeing Stars"

The episode sees Via running away to Earth after she tries to remind her father about a promise he made to her when she was younger about how he would take her to see Azathoth's tears (a meteor shower) as it only happens once in a great while.

But because Stolas was caught up arguing with Stella, who is moving out of their mansion and is having her things delivered, he had forgotten about his promise which causes Via to become rightfully angered and leads into the events of the episode.

At the climax, Via has another heart to heart conversation, not with Stolas, but with Loona, Blitz's adopted Hellhound daughter, where she talks to Via about how Dad's tend to mess up and make big mistakes almost all the time, but that it doesn't mean they don't care and that them trying to do better is what matters as long as they don't stop trying. as well as telling her how Stolas came with them to look for her himself (Stolas got caught up with Blitz as the two were dragged away and got into their own situation).

The ep ends happily as Via forgives her father and the two families (Via/Stolas & Loona/Blitz) enjoy watching fireworks go off.

After Seeing Stars, we wouldn't get any episodes or story plots that involve Stolas and Via's relationship for some time as by this point Stolas' romantic relationship with Blitz was becoming more of the center focus of the series as they both come to question how their relationship is and if it can be more than something that's merely transactional as both parties wish for something more intimate than simply having sex in exchange for Blitz being able to have a means to keep his business open. I made a thread on this earlier if you want to read the FULL detail on this development because this thread is going to be long enough as it is already lol From Truth Seekers to Mastermind: How we've reached the halfway point of Stoliz – @shana-reviews-tmblr on Tumblr The only thing you have to keep in mind from the thread that connects to Stolas is that he has been in a crappy marriage and for the first time with Blitz he feels like he's found someone he has genuine feelings for and wants to have a genuine relationship with someone. Because of this when Blitz is accused of stealing from Stolas, Stolas rushes to Blitz's rescue and takes the fall to save the person he loves and as punishment Stolas is stripped of his powers and title for 100yrs, no longer being able to see Octavia or come to his own property, Stolas has been banished.

This all culminates in the S2 finale Sinsmas where, after trying to get a hold of Via for over a month, things now begin to fall apart as Via endures her mother's cruel attempts to intercept Stolas trying to call her and explain everything, all while mocking him to Via's face.

Via also unfortunately finds her father's medication which he had been taking in order to cope with the abuse Stella had been putting him through for years.

When Stolas and Via finally get a chance to talk, Via completely shuts Stolas out as she assumes the medication Stolas took was because of her and thinks that all the good times they shared was a facade he was putting on and that Stolas would rather be happy with Blitz than with her and that the love she thought he had for her was also a facade.

the two of them are unable to communicate properly about everything and the misunderstanding between them causes Stolas to lose the one good thing that came from his marriage to Stella.

and we are left on a very bittersweet ending as Via has completely shut Stolas out of her life and all he can do is fall to his knees in tears knowing he will not see his daughter for the next 100yrs, and by then she may never recognize him as her father and just see him as a stranger.

And with Stolas' story summed up (for now) we can look into the other character this thread is covering.

That being Goofy and his adventures with Max in both A Goofy Movie and An Extremely Goofy Movie.

Like with Stolas I'll be summing up the events of both films, after which is where I'll get into the meat of things and try to show how Goofy's story and his own arcs will give us an insight into Stolas.

We begin Goofy's summary with the very first Goofy Movie, where Goofy, after being told a VERY exaggerated story by Max's principal about Max "Dressed up like a gang member" and was "causing a riot at school", decides to take his son on a road trip across country to spend quality time together in hopes of strengthening his bond with Max and helping him to stay out of trouble and avoid being put on the electric chair.

Unbeknownst to Goofy however, Max isn't the troublemaker his principal made him out to be and prior to being taken by his dad, was planning to attend a party where Max would hope to win the heart of Roxane, a girl he has a crush on.

Despite the rocky start the two have on the road trip, from Max rejecting any quality time with his father to Goofy taking some questionable "tough love" parenting advice from his friend Pete, the two slowly do make progress in becoming closer.

However Goofy learns a dark secret Max kept from him at the start of their trip. That being that Max changed their map so that they would end up in LA instead of Lake Destiny (the original destination Goofy planned to take Max too).

Because earlier in the film before Goofy took Max out on the Open Road, Max wanted to stop by Roxane's house and try to tell her he wouldn't make it to the party after he had promised to go there earlier when they met at school, but in a panic out of fear of losing his chance with her as she was walking away thinking Max wasn't interested in her, he lies and says that his dad was taking him to said concert, to which he then promised he would be on stage to wave too her, thus he changed the map in an attempt to cover his lie.

And when the time came for Max to direct his dad on where to go, Max in a panic chooses the route he picked, which then leads to Goofy and Max getting into an argument causing the two to crash off the road and be stranded in a river (roll with it) as the two now have no choice but to talk things out as they are literally stranded together with nothing to distract them.

youtube

after clearing every misconception up, Goofy now understands his son better and any doubts he had from his principal to even Pete telling Goofy his son is a bad kid are dispelled, while Max, after spending all this time with his dad, is now more open to his father and seeing him as more than just "Goofy".

In the end the two manage to see Eye To Eye as Goofy gets Max to the concert and the movie ends with Max confessing to Roxane, after telling her the truth and apologizing for the lies he said, before formally introducing his dad to her.

Happy Ending

So, with the first film covered we now go into the 2nd film, which now sees Max heading to college and Goofy, after being fired from his job for losing his focus as he struggled with depression from Max being gone, needing to go to college as he must earn a degree if he is to find a better job.

An Extremely Goofy movie shows us Goofy and Max's relationship struggling once more as, with Goofy now attending the same college as Max, starts to try and spend so much time with Max that he is smothers him not helped that Max is planning to enter the College X games and face against one of the rival teams, The Gammas.

(Goofy Movie Tournament Arc, BEGINS!)

Things come to a breaking point as, after Goofy was recruited by the Gamma's, albeit with Max encouraging to his dad to join as a means to hamper the Gamma's and participates in the qualifying rounds, Max is shown up by his own father, who is unknowingly being used by the Gammas to cheat in the event and get under Max's skin.

This causes Max to blow up at his father because with all the smothering and parenting his dad has been putting him through while ignoring the ground rules they agreed upon was building up a lot of resentment with what happened at the preliminary rounds being the breaking point and Goofy is sent in a spiral of depression, he was failing his courses, not staying in touch with his new girlfriend Sylvia (who was the librarian of the college he was attending) and eventually was prepared to just accept his fate and quit college.

it is only thanks to him realizing he was losing his focus and in a sense being a hypocrite (as he had taught Max a similar lesson about Staying Focused on Your Goals earlier in the film) that Goofy makes a comeback and when the finals of the X games are happening, Goofy aids Max after the two make up with each other and their team defeats the Gammas.

At the end, Goofy and Max share a few words of love, understanding, and respect as Goofy is now able to fully let go of Max as he is able to graduate with enough passing grades to get his diploma and find another, hopfully better job.

And we see Goofy driving off happily into the sunset with his new girlfriend, Sylvia as he can move forward with his life while knowing his bond with his son is now stronger than ever before.

youtube

Alrighty!

so, with both Stolas and Goofy's stories summarized we now can come to:

Character Analysis and Comparison

If you've read the above summaries or know of both Stolas and Goofy's stories, you might see there are some small similarities.

Goofy and Stolas both:

Single Parents

Have Teenage kids

A strained relationship with said kids

Both have issues with communicating with their kids

Have romances with someone

are both doofuses in their own way

On a surface level this would be all the similarities that the two have and if so, how does that even remotely help anyone sympathize with and understand Stolas?

For this we have to dive a bit deeper and examine some of the differences between them along with their similarities.

Differences:

Unlike Goofy, who is a working-class citizen, Stolas was born in a more privileged life as he is heir to the Goetia family, from birth Stolas was raised to see himself above others who were beneath his social class while also being denied any sense of autonomy, identity, and life outside of his identity as a Goetia it was only thanks to his relationship with Blitz, an Imp who is seen as FAR beneath him on the hierarchy, that Stolas began his journey to recognizing his own privileged life and the inequality that surrounds the world he lives in.

Goofy meanwhile is your average joe. He's an middle-class worker who tries to be a good loving and supportive father to his son, not to mention he is also a widower. Simple, yet easy to understand.

Another big difference is in how their stories are told, Goofy's story revolves around his relationship with his son, while for Stolas his story revolves around his relationships with Blitz (Romantic) and Octavia (Familial) but also includes somethings that are far more adult and nuanced than what Goofy is allowed to tell as Stolas' life includes but not limited to:

Spousal abuse at the hands of his ex-wife

Possible addiction to medication

The closet one can say Goofy and Stolas both have as far as "heavy topic" material is that both have had states of Depression.

This now leads us into their:

Similarities

For Goofy, the cause of his depression was Empty Nest Syndrome as Goofy came to the realization that his baby boy is off starting his own life while Goofy is left alone after being with him for so many years.

For Stolas, his depression is tied to the Spousal abuse he suffered from Stella.

But let's examine some other things the two have in common:

Miscommunication

This is something that shows up in both Stolas and Goofy's stories.

With Goofy, it's the miscommunication of him assuming he knows the story about what Max did in Highschool and rather than talking with Max to get his side of the story, Goofy believes what the principal said and, against Max's will, takes him on a trip thinking that this is the solution to helping Max when it didn't.

It was only when Goofy and Max were able to sit down and talk that Goofy got the whole story that he finally understood his son better which helped to mend their relationship and make it stronger.

This also happens with Stolas as I mentioned above.

Because of how Heavy a topic Stolas' situation is, this is something that isn't as easy as one thinks.

Because it is NEVER as easy as some will think it is for a parent to tell their child how much they've been suffering because of their spouse, made worse if the child is close with that spouse or if they have a good relationship.

and it's because of this lack of communication that Stolas is unable to explain things to Via properly to help her see him eye to eye and understand her father.

To Via she's only seeing her dad cheat on her mom with someone she doesn't know about, and it didn't help either when Stolas forgot his promise to Via to spend time with her like he said he would.

Both times Via forgave him but ultimately Stolas being unable to tell Via about her mother is what bit Stolas in the end, not helped that he never even told Via too about how Stella tried to have him assassinated.

So as we see, both Goofy and Stolas have had bad communication skills with their kids, while for different reasons, the fact is NEITHER of them were able to or were to talk and get things straightened out, which for both characters would find its way to bit them in the end.

which now leads into another trait both share that I might get push back from, but it's a hard truth.

Goofy and Stolas BOTH make selfish choices

How does Goofy act selfish? what blasphemy do I speak?

In a Goofy Movie, Goofy makes the decision to take Max on a trip without even once hearing Max out or even asking if he wanted to do this at all not helped that the first place they stopped at was a tourist spot where in Goofy gets into hijinks as well as doing things that makes Max feel embarrassed in front of crowds of people, despite Max trying to tell Goofy how he felt but Goofy was too lost in his own fun to listen.

Believe it or not On the Open Road, the music number that happens when Goofy and Max are on their journey, works and functions the same as a villain song singing which makes Goofy something of, if not, an Antagonist of the movie (and before anyone says anything Antagonist and Villain are not synonymous)

If you want to understand WTH I'm going on about, I highly recommend watching Sideways video on the music of a Goofy movie it is an amazing video and will better explain why Open Road is Goofy's antagonist song among other things you might like to find out about A Goofy Movie.

youtube

So, if you watched the video already then you should see why I mentioned Open Road as an example of Goofy being selfish, this is because the song revolves around Goofy saying what he plans to do which is something that hinders Max's goals as Max, in this movie, is trying to win the heart of Roxane, but now he can't be there with her like he had hoped because he's now going across country spending days and weeks apart from her.

The selfish choices Goofy makes also does not stop here as in an Extremely Goofy Movie, where Goofy this time is sort of the focus point.

In the sequel, Goofy attends the same college as Max and it's made very clear Goofy is trying too hard to cope from his Empty Nest Syndrome by wanting to spend more time with him that he never bothers to adhere to the ground rules Max and him agreed to, even though Max was very understanding and sympathetic to his dad for coming to the same college and genuinely wanted him to get his degree so he can get a better job.

But throughout the film Goofy is constantly smothering Max which caused so much friction to build up that when Goofy, unknowingly, shows up Max during a sports event it's what causes Max to finally snap at Goofy and call him out.

and in the end Goofy acknowledges his own wrong doings when he recognizes that he lost his focus on trying to spend time with Max when he should have been focusing on trying to get his degree, to which he tries his best to make things right by apologizing to those he wronged and work to get his grades up and help Max win the College X games tournament.

This leads us now to discussing Stolas' selfish choices.

With Stolas, the selfish choices he makes are tied to both his romantic relationship with Blitz as well as Via, due to how one affected the other.

Stolas was so emotionally damaged from growing up being molded and groomed to be the ideal Goetia and never feeling an ounce of genuine affection from either his family or his wife (save for Via) that when he met Blitz as children the fun memories he had was something he held dear, so much that after 25 years when the two met up again Stolas had misunderstood Blitz's attempts to distract him so he could steal his grimoire as an attempt at "Romancing" him, which he himself also contributed too when he was so drunk and in an emotionally vulnerable place after Stella belittled him in front of her friends, that he felt Blitz was showing genuine interest and love, or at least what he assumed was love.

Not helped that when Blitz gave Stolas petty sex it further pushed the miscommunication which got further muddied when Stolas made an arrangement with Blitz

As a reminder i made another thread that tries to five into Stolas and Blitz's relationship so if you want to re-read that, pause reading here and scroll back up to the link.

If not no worries, the only thing you need to take away from that thread is that Stolas, for the first time in his life, met someone, who isn't related to him, that he connects with who makes him genuinely happy and in a desperate attempt to have that, he makes the selfish choice of wanting to have Blitz in his life as a lover.

This also causes friction with his daughter as mentioned earlier how Via watched her family fall apart and her father chasing after someone who she doesn't know and thinks is a homewrecker, when in truth she doesn't understand nor was told how close Blitz was to Stolas or sees how much of a good person Blitz actually is.

Loo Loo Land showed Stolas made the mistake with how he was ignoring Via's emotional state when he constantly flirted with Blitz instead of really talking to Via, a mistake that was in a very well placed part to show the irony, was done to him by his father Paimon when he saw Stolas in distress over what he told him his life will become and rather than deal with him, he took Stolas to the circus instead, there it was an attempt to distract Stolas and not deal with him.

With Stolas' it was a genuine attempt, if misguided, to try and make Via happy even if his own want for Blitz caused him to lose his focus on trying to help Via work through her emotions and properly explain things to her.

It just goes to show how Paimon's upbringing of Stolas affected his parenting skills:

youtube

It's the lack of communication that Stolas has with his daughter that makes it harder for Via to see her father's plight and truly understand him, and this leads to her believing he might lie to her, not helped that any chance Stolas DID try to communicate with her like in Sinsmas when he tried to call her to explain everything, Stella ran interference FOR A MONTH which caused Stolas' window of opportunity to explain things to vanish and she calls him out on it.

youtube

much like how Max, for all the times Goofy was making his own selfish choices, did the same.

But make no mistake, even if Stolas and Goofy's stories are not one to one the same, what similarities they do have and any differences between them DOES help paint a bigger picture.

that picture being parenthood and how much of a spectrum it is with how parents can be loving, supportive, and well-meaning, while also being very flawed and human in how they try to handle situations that come up as there is no 1 specific or "right" way to parenting or how some problems parents face can be different in some details, yet still have the same root cause/issue and not all have the same solutions or can be solved the same way.

Which leads to a topic that Stolas and Goofy both share that can't be denied, no matter what:

Their Love for their Children

It's no secret that Goofy loves his son, it's one of the driving forces of both movies, heck even taking into account the show Goof Troop and the Mickey's Once upon a Christmas special, Goofy's bond with his son is unquestionable strong and is core part of his character.

Case in point this moment here from the movie where, despite him and Max having friction, Goofy shows his love for his son by having a real moment with him as the two bond over somethign from the past they use to have fun with:

youtube

And just as Goofy has undying love for Max, so too does Stolas have undying love for Octavia.

How?

well the picture you see above with him holding a newborn Octavia shows that he was there for her since her birth, we never get any pictures of Stella being there for Via or pictures of Stella and Via by themselves, we only see pictures of Stolas and Via together from him being there for her on her birthday to playing horsey with him having her riding on his back, heck in S1 Ep2 the episode begins with a young Via crying out to her parents, but only Stolas goes to check in on her and her nightmare was soley about her losing him.

The only thing that Stolas did that we never see Goofy do, and this is more a result of how Disney locks Goofy behind a G rating; Was when Stolas, after finally standing up to Stella, talks about how he endured so much of her vitriol, cruelty, and malice even when he tried hard to make the marriage neither of them wanted, work. ALL FOR VIA'S SAKE.

Even showing how he would have felt terrible for what he did if his actions had hurt Stella emotionally, but the only thing of hers that was hurt wasn't her heart, but her pride as a Goetia.

He endured so much for Octavia and all to let her have some kind of a normal life that he was denied and to be honest if Goofy was in Stolas' position he'd do the same for Max.

In Conclusion

I do not know if this thread will enlighten people on Stolas' character or if people will agree with me or my points.

My goal with this thread was to show the similarities between these two as I have seen countless times people decrying Stolas as an unlikable character, that he deserves to be miserable, or worse deserved to be killed.

To which I strongly disagree, Goofy reminds me so much of Stolas and vice versa, sure they have plenty of differences, but that shows how Stolas isn't a carbon vopy of Goofy and that he stands out as his own character.

Stolas may not be A-Hyuck-ing all the time or getting into slapstick moments with a "YAAAAAAAAH-HOO-HOO-HOO-EEEEE!" holler at the end, but he is silly in his own way and his arc only differs from Goofy in that Stolas is a privileged prince who has to unlearn the aristocratic upbringing he was molded into.

But where Stolas and Goofy are similar is in how they are as father's trying to be there for the children they love so dearly.

Goofy's journey lasted 2 full movies, not counting any specials or the TV series (Goof Troop), it roughly tells a story that is 2hrs and 42mins total, in that time span of each film things had to be set up, lead into the conflict, and be resolved by movie's end.

Stolas' journey as a character is lasting what is to be a 4 seasoned 52-episode series that has to stretch his development to where it is needed story wise, in other words Stolas' journey (in terms of his relationship with Via) is a slow burn compared to Goofy's and it isn't completed yet, so it is unfair to say Stolas or Goofy's journeys are superior or inferior to the other rather we should look at their story as two different takes of the same goal they both set out to accomplish.

So the question is, with all that we've discussed in this thread

If we can sympathize with and cheer for Goofy to have a happy ending with his loved ones, despite the mistakes, and selfish choices he made...

Then why can't we do the same for Stolas, when after everything that's been shown in this thread, do we see so many similarities that are irrefutable even if there are some differences between them that makes each character have their own identity?

Why can't we sympathize with and cheer for Stolas to find happiness and outgrow the upbringing he was forced into?

Regardless if anyone agrees with me, I hope at least this thread gives you all something to think about regardless if you watched ether characters story. Because if Stolas and Goofy can have similarities...how many other characters out there are similar that also might be unfairly hated?

In the end I see Goofy and Stolas as similar characters and as I said earlier are two shades of what I see as a Parenting spectrum.

They are Fathers

They are Lovers

They make mistakes

"They may not always get it right, but they're trying...

that's more important than you think."

#helluva boss #Stolas #HelluvaBossStolas #Goofy #a goofy movie #an extremely goofy movie #disney #vivziepop #vivienne medrano #character analysis #Spindlehorse

55 notes · View notes

wolkentage · 3 days ago

Text

synopsis / beginning / prev / next

[transcript]

Maksym: Alexander! Look at you! Finally finding your way back home. Tao: Babuschka, please let go of me!

Maksym: How has your ride been? Did everything go smoothly at the car rental? Uschka: It's nice to have you back in Ravenwood. The estate is so quiet now that it's only your father and me. Tao: You need to visit us in San Myshuno! I'm sure you would like it there!

Alexander: So what is it that made you have me drive all the way to Ravenwood? Alexander: Surely it's not just because you missed me. Maksym: Does the name Petrov ring a bell? Alexander: Petrov? Isn't he the one behind Medinova Global Health? Maksym: His daughter, Ivanoschka, fell victim to a smear campaign. A journalist claims he saw her leaving a nightclub accompanied by a drug dealer. Maksym: Petrov is worried this could have long-lasting consequences for his company. It's not the first time his daughter has been spooted partying a bit too much. Alexander: I'm not sure how any of this is related to me. If you're worried about my reputation, I know how to keep a low profile and - Maksym: Alexander, you're almost in your 40s. Don't you think it's about time to get married and settle down? Alexander: Wait - that's why you had me come over? You want me to what? Marry a woman I've never met in my life? Maksym: I don't expect you to marry her on the spot. Petrov suggested a date and - Alexander: Absolutely not! I'm leaving. Maksym: Alexander! Wait! Think of the business opportunities this could bring us!

author's note: Maksym has a special place in my heart. Not necessarily a good place, but a special one for sure! He knows how to make his son's life unnecessarily stressful. :'D

#the sims 4 #sims 4 #the sims community #sims 4 stories #sims 4 story #sims 4 simblr #ts4 simblr #sims community #simblr #show us your sims #sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 screenshots #The Infected

54 notes · View notes

lovelytsunoda · 3 days ago

Text

Cruel Summer | Alex Albon

Summary: Despite knowing Alex is leaving at the end of the summer, YN can’t help but wonder if there’s the possibility of a future with him.

Pairing: Alex Albon x female!Townie!Reader

Warnings: Not as much dialogue as I usually have lol and a few small mentions of sex. Reader is a dreamer and a realist at the same time.

There were two types of people in Stacey's Point. Townies, who kept the town running year round, often born and raised on the sandy shores and sprawling parkland, and Tourists, who popped in for a few months over the summer, spread their well-earned cash sparingly on the town, and then vanished again once the weather got cold. Townies and Tourists alike seemed to relish in playing mind games with each other, and more than one Townie girl or guy had notches in their bedposts for all the Tourists they'd charmed.

The differences between the two sects had never felt as strong as it did than when YN parked her dated Toyota Rav4 next to Alex's Volvo SUV. A rental, obviously. No local would be able to own one, and nobody with an accent as attractive as his lived within driving distance.

They'd met on a fishing charter. YN's father owned the company running tours around the bay that surrounded to Point. Over the summers she worked there as a tour guide in the busy season, and fishing admin in the fall. In the winter she went to school, taking online courses to get a diploma in office admin. She loved her home, and didn't want to leave the Point, but if job prospects didn't start to get better, she likely wouldn't have a choice.

Some days, she dreamed about leaving with Alex. About getting into the passenger seat of his Volvo and driving until the lighthouse that made the Point oh so picturesque was merely a speck in the distance. Think of all the places she could go: Calgary, New York, Boston, Newfoundland. The possibilities were endless.

The key to the vacation rental was weighty in her hand. Alex had given her a key. She’s never had a key to a man’s house before. Usually when she hooked up with tourists, she was eager to see them leave. This time, she allowed her mind to wander.

She thought about the mornings she spent waking up in Alex’s bed before she had to go to work, or about how the best sex she’d ever had happened in between fits of joyous laughter after they had watched American Pie together.

She faintly wondered if he’d stay. Give up his life of riches and fame and wonder and settle down for a modest existence in one of the most beautiful places in the world.

A modest existence with her.

The key slid into the lock without resistance, almost the same way he fell into her every night without fail, taking her higher than she had ever felt with anybody else, and then cooking with her the following morning before she went to work, picking her up in his Volvo to go to a ritzy place she could never afford on her own for lunch.

He was cooking when she went inside, the radio playing an old Take That song. He like Robbie Williams and she liked Jon Bon Jovi, yet somehow they both knew the words to the same songs. There was a wok on the stove, and the kitchen smelled like Thai curry seasoning and chicken. It was a rich and flavourful meal, one that she knew Alex had learned just for her.

She didn’t want to disturb him, quietly placing her things on the long dining room table, stomach pooling with both content and dread as she watched him work.

This time next week, Alex Albon would be gone. Racing cars halfway across the world, surrounded by girls that were prettier than her, smarter than her, richer than her. Someone who could match his sparkling personality much better than she could.

He caught her movement out of the corner of his eye, looking up at her from the stove. His face broke out into a broad smile as he said “Hey, gorgeous.”

He crossed the kitchen, beaming as he pulled her in for a kiss. She allowed him to take her into his strong, reliable arms and inhaled his teakwood cologne, she tried to push away the inevitable ache that she would feel when he left.

“Hey, handsome.” She sighed, kissing him again, and then a third time for good measure. “Food smells good.”

“Want to give me a hand? I wanted it to be ready for when you got here, but clearly that was wishful thinking.”

“It wasn’t. I finished work early and snuck out the back door.”

”Do you know how to make rice?” Alex asked, passing her the bag of rice grains. The writing on the bag was in Thai, making it abundantly clear that he had left the Point to pick his ingredients. As much as she loved her home, she could admit that the seaside town could try a little harder when it came to diversity.

“Of course I know how to make rice. It’s about the only thing I can make.”

They cooked well together, even if Alex did most of the work. They sang the same songs, pulled all the same dance moves. It didn't matter that his hair was perfectly groomed an gelled while hers smelled like saltwater and sun, or that he smelled like cologne while she smelled like the worst parts of nature (she planned on stealing all of his Old Spice in the shower).

Right now, right here, in the kitchen of this vacation rental she would never be able to afford in a million years, they were just two regular people.

She had never been this comfortable with another person before, which is why she knew it would hurt so much when he left. She wished she could have forever with him, if not just the next six months.

But sometimes you can't have forever. Or six months. Sometimes, all you get is now and that has to be enough.

#formula one x reader #the coastal collection 2025 #alex albon x reader #alex albon imagine #f1 imgaine #f1 x reader #f1 fluff #alex albon fluff #mini fic

54 notes · View notes

8-rae-rae-8 · 2 days ago

Note

i am feeling angry for no reason. and someone has to suffer for this, so let it be my dearest phillip graves ❤️

make him suffer violently. physically, mentally, and emotionally. maybe on their own, but hopefully in pairs at least (maybe even all three if you're feeling really sadistic).

but wait! a moment! give him a crumb of comfort. he cherishes it but it simultaneously makes him feel guilty beyond belief because he quite honestly believes he doesn't deserve it for betraying the people he wanted to be friends with under means of just trying to keep himself and his shadows alive. the comfort makes him let down his shields a bit, but that just makes him vulnerable for others to attack.

i do not have specifics other than this. just graves whump in every single way you can possibly think of. (all of this is /nf by the way. i've never actually given requests so i don't really know how this works)

thank you for possibly considering me, o great one. 🙇‍♂️

Thank you anon thank you, I will take this opportunity briefly to say

[CW: manipulation, child abuse, abuse, implied brief noncon, conditioning(?), mentions of death]

Imagine if you will

Phillip Graves being trained so well, from a young age, to do as he was told. To be seen, not heard. The military was an escape until he got hooked by Shepherd and, damnit, he was too weak to resist the promises he made.

He listened. He behaved. He cared, way too fucking much. Graves practically signed away his life for a chance at something more. Shadow Company was supposed to be his more. His new thing, something he'd love—and he does—but the picture gets clearer and clearer to him every day.

Those promises were fake, the benefits he got were null, the pay was worse, the work was more strenuous. But Phillip Graves learned not to complain, hushed with a finger to his lips or snapped at and scolded until he understood. He sees a little better what he's been looking at from tinted glasses.

From where he sits at Shepherd's feet as a guard dog, he's nothing more than a tool. A measley mutt, something weak and waiting to be used because he was so desperate to prove himself.

He can't dig himself out of this hole. He knows it. There's nowhere to go. Who would he run to anyway?

When he steps a foot out of line, the barely healed wounds remind him of what happens when he does. The stern gaze sends terror through him, the all too similar way his father standing in the hall with a belt would; except this time, he'd be losing a lot more than just his ability to sit for a few hours.

He's a mutt chained to a post. He can lunge and bark and bite, but it'll get him nowhere. At this point, after everything, he's not sure he deserves that regardless. Here, at least, he's made a home. Someone will ask how he is, and he'll lie away every follow-up question with a smile on his face. The way they hug him is so much more gentle. Safe. Warm.

And yet, like a dog, he'll always crawl back here to lay at his owner's feet before Shepherd can catch a glimpse of what he's doing—he always knows anyway. Another punishment, another scolding, another bruise or cut.

Weary and tired, it's hard to keep up appearances, but he does it just well enough.

Shamefully, for just a second, he believed the 141 and Los Vaqueros could see him. The chuckles, the fist bumps, the banter... He thought he'd get a chance, just one. But he never deserved that, did he? Shepherd wasted no time with them, sending orders to Graves' desk, telling him to kill each and every remaining team member. Make them pay for daring to treat Phil with an ounce of kindness.

He couldn't even say he was sorry, just tried to aim where it wouldn't kill. It had to look real, after all. Even still, he had half the thought to think that maybe, just maybe, they'd see him. See all this. The Shadows' confusion, his tenseness, his fear... Why'd he ever think he'd get lucky like that?

If he ignored the order, it would break him. Literally. His shadows would be out of jobs, god knows Shepherd isn't above sending others to kill them for no reason. He'd lie about them "going rogue" or something. He'd lose everything he ever wanted and only ever got because he was stupid enough to think this could all happen and be okay.

The shadows noted it, a little bit. They saw his panicked eyes and restless stance. The only comfort he got out there were small smiles and brief touches. Brush of the shoulders, a gentle pat. For a minute, he could believe it was okay.

The one chance at getting out was that godforsaken court room, and even then he failed when his walls kept coming down until the stupid idea someone would see this terrifying situation. But no. No one will come for him when he drowns in the ship he dared to live on. No one will see the way his eyes dart around as Shepherd clasps a threatening hand over his shoulder like it's a kind gesture. No one will hear the way he sobs that night, knowing it'll always just be him, drowning here alone.

I got carried away and I think I missed some points but it's almost 6am so

#cw child abuse #cw abuse #cw whump #whump #call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #anon asks #asks #cod mwii #phillip graves #phillip graves cod #Graves cod #cod graves

28 notes · View notes

slaymitchabernathy · 3 days ago

Text

Blind Trust

Coriolanus jumps when he hears a thud come from the hallway outside of his study. The sound of a vase shattering quickly follows the thud, accompanied by several of the maids gasping. He listens to their hushed conversations.

"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Snow."

"I shouldn't have moved the table without telling you."

"It's alright, no harm done."

He scoffs, a perfectly good vase has been shattered, but Soarynn has never been a glutton for punishment, let alone make other people feel bad for their shortcomings.

She has enough of those on her own.

Soarynn was born blind.

Fate certainly has a way of being cruel because while she was born without sight, she was also born with showstopping beauty. Her blonde hair grows past her waist, always soft, always perfectly styled. Her beautiful face has a most luminous complexion, with freckles painted like stars across it. She has the sweetest voice he's ever heard, with the voice of a songbird.

When he first met her, he was struck by her natural beauty and kind demeanor. He found it impossible to believe that a girl like her had yet to court a single man, let alone get married. He was twenty-six, and she was twenty-one. On paper, she was perfect.

Then his bright blue eyes focused on her cloudy blue ones, and that's when he saw it. She was blind. She was blind in a world, in a city where people were cruel and ruthless towards those who were born different. No wonder he father kept her hidden away from the world.

Coriolanus was approached by Glen Nightingale after a joint company meeting one afternoon. "You seem like a good man, Coriolanus Snow," the older man had said to him, "a man capable of looking after my daughter for me when I'm gone."

Coriolanus hadn't anticipated Soarynn being blind. He thought she might be a bit awkward or shy, but no, she was without sight. It threw him for a loop to say the least, thank goodness she couldn't see his face when he put the pieces together.

Being the noble man he is, Coriolanus decided to humor Glen by taking Soarynn on a few dates here and there, taking her to private, lesser-known restaurants where no one he knew would recognize him.

Coriolanus was sure to be the laughingstock of the Capitol if people saw him with a blind girl.

But then, something strange happened. Despite all odds, Soarynn Nightingale managed to nestle her way into his cold, hardened heart. He sometimes wonders how she managed to do it, how she managed to weave her way into every facet of his life to the point where he didn't even care what others thought of him.

He fell deeply in love with her and found himself thinking of her at all times of the day. He cared for her safety more than anything. He always wanted her to be happy and without worry. It got to the point where he didn't care what anybody said, not even his father.

Perhaps it was subconscious, but he kept Soarynn far away from his parents, whom he both knew to be slightly judgmental. They ran into them one day after getting lunch, completely unexpectedly and unplanned. Coriolanus had been startled, to say the least, especially when his parents settled their eyes on Soarynn and quickly put the pieces together.

His mother's eyes had softened slightly when she became aware of Soarynn's condition. She's always had a soft spot for those who have impairments, though it often comes off as condescending rather than caring. But his father, oh, Coriolanus remembers the look he got from his father.

He was so disappointed in him.

He called over to their penthouse later that evening after taking Soarynn back home. His father cut right to the chase and to the heart. "A blind girl? You could have your pick of all the girls in the Capitol, and you chose the blind one?"

Coriolanus has done his best to not let his father's words get to him. He loves Soarynn, and nothing will change that. But even on their wedding day, his father was dripping with disappointment. He's learned to ignore it and be thankful that Soarynn can't see the way her father-in-law looks at her sometimes.

As if she's a burden.

Coriolanus rises from his chair, he's working from home today and figures that a small break won't hurt. He goes out into the hallway where there's quite a commotion of women trying to clean while keeping Soarynn away from the shattered glass.

"...really," his wife insists, "I can help you clean it up."

Coriolanus comes up behind her, resting his hands on her waist, pulling her against his broad chest. "You'll do no such thing, darling," he informs her, pressing a kiss below her ear, "what if you cut yourself?"

One of their oldest maids, Maria, dutifully nods her head as if Soarynn can see her. "Exactly, Mrs. Snow. You'd best leave this mess to us."

"But I'm the one who caused it," Soarynn mutters, only loud enough for Coriolanus to hear. One look around the hallway makes it easy for Coriolanus to understand what happened. The small table that used to sit on the left side of the hall was moved to the right side, which led to Soarynn running into it.

Once they got married, Soarynn spent a lot of time mentally mapping out their penthouse apartment in her mind. She walked miles in all of the hallways, running her hands along the walls, whispering to herself, making mental notes on where large pieces of furniture sat.

He's made the same mistake a couple of times himself, accidentally moving something or leaving his shoes out for her to trip on. Soarynn knows the penthouse like clockwork now, but is most familiar with their bedroom and bathroom. She knows everything like the back of her hand.

It's easy to take sight for granted, but living with someone without it has taught Coriolanus that it's more than a sense, but a gift.

"Why don't we go to the library, hmm?" He suggests, nosing her jaw. Soarynn relaxes into his hold, she loves to read. Coriolanus became very familiar with braile once he started courting Soarynn. Braile is a series of raised dots on a piece of paper that the legally blind use to read. Soarynn will run her fingers along the dots which represent numbers, letters, and symbols, putting it all together the same way one would do with reading.

It's fascinating to watch her read. Soarynn is a very fast reader and gets through books at impressive rates. She always asks for more books around the holidays and her birthday.

Soarynn perks up at the mention of the library, mostly because she's almost done with a new romance novel he bought for her the other week. "Okay," she easily agrees, stepping forward. Coriolanus pulls her back right before she steps on the shattered vase and spins them around, leading them in the opposite direction.

"When I finish this book, could you buy me another? I want to read the sequel," she says, gazing up at him. Although she can't see, Soarynn still does her best to maintain eye contact with those she speaks to. Coriolanus often gets lost in her clouded eyes, wishing he could blow the clouds away so she could see him clearly.

"Of course, darling," he promises, "although it might take some time for me to find it. The bookstore can run a bit behind schedule, you know." That's a lie, but it's a good lie in his books. Because braille is terribly uncommon, Coriolanus hires a specialist to transcribe her favorite books into readable material for Soarynn.

It obviously takes quite a bit of time to transcribe all those words into tiny little dots, and Soarynn burns through books faster than he can buy them for her.

"I know. I think she's going to end up marrying the prince!"

Coriolanus gladly listens to his wife's theories about her latest romance novel while walking to the library in their apartment. Once she revealed her love for reading, Coriolanus had an empty room transformed into a beautiful library for Soarynn, filled with books.

While she can't see it, she can feel it, the craftsmanship that's gone into carving out the mahogany bookshelves. How many feathers were stuffed into each chair cushion.

Soarynn is a Snow. She deserves the best.

She walks down the halls with such confidence, knowing which turns to make and when to make them. They've almost reached the library when another obstacle makes itself very apparent.

Petunia.

Soarynn's beloved cat lies in the middle of the hallway, her stomach wide open for pets. She meows the second she sees Soarynn, who stops in her tracks. Soarynn says that Petunia is so smart and that she knows she can't see her. Coriolanus highly doubts that this is true. Petunia's no idiot, but she's a far cry from a service animal.

She most likely meows for attention, not to alert Soarynn of her whereabouts.

"Oh, Petunia, there you are," Soarynn says, looking in the general direction of Petunia's meows. Petunia rolls back onto her feet and pads over to her owners, well, owner. Coriolanus honestly wants nothing to do with the feline. She is Soarynn's cat, not his. He only bought Petunia because Soarynn begged him for a kitten last year for her birthday.

He thought it might be difficult raising a kitten without sight, but Soarynn actually managed quite well. Petunia has proven to be a loyal companion to Soarynn, so she can stay. For now.

Petunia purrs up a storm while rubbing her side against Soarynn's leg, paying Coriolanus no mind whatsoever. He scoffs at this behavior, she acts like he doesn't pay the bills around here. "Let's go to the library, Petunia," Soarynn says, and Petunia darts ahead of them. Soarynn frequents the library most days, so Petunia is more than familiar with the large room.

The library smells like fresh pages and newly bound books. The fire he stoked last night is simmering down to the embers. Soarynn pulls away from him to go find her book, and Coriolanus makes himself busy stoking the flames once again, adding some new firewood to the pile.

"I was thinking we could go out to dinner tonight," he suggests. Soarynn loves trying new foods at restaurants, so he does his best to take her out at least once a week, if not more. She deserves the best.

Soarynn's fingers skim the dotted spines of her books, stopping when she finds the correct one. "That sounds nice," she replies, "what time?"

Coriolanus checks his watch. It's two o'clock right now, and he'll finish up work at around five. "Let's say six-thirty," he decides, knowing how long women tend to take when getting ready.

Soarynn hums, already opening up her book. From the looks of it, she's almost done. He should call the bookstore today to put in an order for the next one. "Can you ask one of the maids to remind me when it's five, please?"

"Yes, darling."

Due to the obvious visual impairment Soarynn has, reading the clock is impossible, and she can easily lose track of time. Especially when she gets to reading. Coriolanus learned the hard way when he got ready for a dinner one night and assumed that Soarynn had already gotten ready. He found her asleep in the library, not at all prepared to go out in public.

Since then, he has taken necessary precautions to ensure that Soarynn won't get caught up in her own little world. Although she often does. She'll often zone out, thinking of other things besides the life she's currently living. He doesn't mind it for the most part and sometimes finds himself wondering what she could possibly be thinking about.

Probably a life with sight.

That's what he would think about.

He watches her carefully walk over to one of the large sofas they keep in here. Her steps are small and slow, and she holds one hand out, feeling for the plush suede fabric that covers the sofa. When she finds it, she smiles and plops down to read her book. Petunia jumps up next to her. Coriolanus doesn't like her getting on the furniture, but he allows it in the library.

"I'll be back soon," he says, walking over to her. Coriolanus leans down to place a soft kiss on her forehead. Soarynn sighs contentedly, moving towards his touch. "Will you get me the next book, please?" He chuckles, she's always one step ahead. "Yes, darling, I'll call the bookstore today before they close."

Soarynn hums at the promise she knows he'll keep, settling down with her book and her cat. Coriolanus watches her for a minute before leaving to go back to his office. The shattered vase has been cleaned, and the table moved back to its original place.

Coriolanus opens up his desk drawers in search of his phone book. Soarynn teases him for being so outdated by writing down all the phone numbers he knows, but he refuses to get rid of such a useful item. He flips to the last page, which shows the bookstore's phone number to him.

He dials the correct number, drumming against the desk with his fingers while he waits. The phone rings twice, and then someone answers. "Capitol Reads, how may I help you?"

Coriolanus clears his throat. "Yes, hello, I was hoping to speak to Mr. Thimble about placing a special order."

"Of course. Hold for one moment, please."

Mr. Thimble is a saint, to put it plainly. He's known Soarynn longer than Coriolanus has and is one of the only people he entirely trusts to be around his wife when he's not around. Soarynn has been a long-time customer at Capitol Reads, and the older man has always been kind to her, letting her stay as long as she likes and making sure she feels comfortable. Soarynn visits the store at least once a week. They have readings for the children, and she'll often attend those as well.

"This is Mr. Thimble speaking. How may I help you?"

"Mr. Thimble, it's Coriolanus Snow, how are you doing today, sir?"

"Ah, Mr. Snow, what a pleasant surprise. I'm quite fine, quite fine. Thank you for asking. What can I do for you today?"

Coriolanus glances at the framed photograph he keeps on his desk. The photo is of Soarynn, and she looks so beautiful in the backyard of her childhood home. He had taken it one sunny afternoon after gifting her the first book in braille he ever had commissioned for her. She had been so excited. Little did he know that it would lead to a lifelong obsession with finding more and more books.

"My wife is nearing the end of the last book you made for her and is already itching to get her hands on the next one." Soarynn will probably finish this book before they leave, which means he'll get a very detailed report on it at dinner tonight. Coriolanus actually enjoys it when she tells him about the book she reads. Soarynn has such a way with words.

"Finishing it already? Goodness, she certainly burns through those books quickly. I assume she'd like the sequel?"

"Yes, she's already made her own predictions."

Mr. Thimble chuckles, Soarynn has actually predicted quite a few endings correctly before finishing the books, and the older man jokes that while she can't literally see, she can see into the future.

"Well, we can't have her waiting. I'll get started on the new book tomorrow, and I'll let you know when it's ready."

Coriolanus smiles, it's a good thing he's rich because these books can be quite pricey, considering how tedious this service can be.

"Thank you, sir. Have a good night."

"You as well."

Coriolanus hangs up the phone with a new feeling of determination. There's a knock at his door. "Yes?"

It's Maria who pokes her head inside, she rarely comes in here unless it's to dust. Coriolanus is very particular about who can and cannot enter his study. It's a private space, and he plans on keeping it that way.

"Pardon my interruption, Mr. Snow, but I was looking for your wife."

"She's in the library. And please let her know when the clock reaches five, we have dinner reservations at six-thirty."

Maria nods, she'll have to help Soarynn get ready. "Certainly, Mr. Snow."

Maria closes the door behind her, leaving Coriolanus to call to make reservations. Since he's a Snow, a spot is magically opened up for him and Soarynn. No questions asked.

Snow always lands on top.

꧁ ꧂

Their dinner reservations roll around in the blink of an eye, and Coriolanus finds himself sitting across from the most beautiful woman he's ever laid eyes on.

If only she could say the same.

He won't lie and say that he hasn't wished for Soarynn's sight to be restored. He'd love for her to be able to see the world and all it has to offer. It might be selfish, but he wants her to see how much he loves her, how much he adores her.

Is that too much to ask for?

He watches with a soft smile as she rambles on and on about the book that she did, in fact, finish before dinner. "...and then she ran away! She ran away! Can you believe that Coryo? What an absurd thing to do." He chuckles, taking her hands in his. Her hands are her eyes, the only way for her to see and feel how much he loves her.

"Why is that so absurd, darling? Didn't you mention her being miserable with the marriage?"

Soarynn pulls a twisted face, causing him to laugh. "Running away is so scary," she tells him matter-of-factly, "I could never do it."

She could never do it because she'd get lost and then get hurt and then die. Soarynn will never be able to live on her own, and that kills him on the inside. "Well, it's a good thing that you're very happy in your own marriage, hmm?"

"Yes, I suppose it's a good thing that I married a prince and not a monster." Now it's his turn to pull a twisted face. "I'm more of a king," he argues. Soarynn giggles, shaking her head. "Then what does that make me?"

He presses a kiss to the back of both her hands. "It makes you my queen, darling. And I ordered the next book for you, so you can see if the princess makes it back to her kingdom." Soarynn is giddy with excitement and spends the next two courses talking about what might happen in the next book.

He took them to The Grand Oak, one of his favorite restaurants, due to the private dining rooms and excellent service. A group of women walks by and he can't help but notice how they stare and Soarynn and whisper to one another as they walk out. Sometimes, he thinks it's a good thing that Soarynn can't see the way people look at her.

Soarynn goes to reach for her glass of wine but misjudges where she last placed it, causing her hand to knock it to the ground. The sound of glass shattering causes everyone to look over at them.

"I think I just broke something," Soarynn whispers, nervously looking around. Coriolanus grabs her hand, squeezing it tightly. "You did nothing wrong," he assures her, "it was an accident."

A staff member comes to clean up the shards of glass, waving Soarynn off when she profusely apologizes. "Truly," she says, "I'm so, so sorry."

"It's alright, Mrs. Snow. No harm done," they assure her.

Soarynn still seems upset, shaking her head and refusing to look up from her lap.

"Darling. Darling, look at me," Coriolanus pleads gently, "you didn't do it on purpose. It's alright, it's in the past." Soarynn scoffs a laugh. There are moments when she gets so frustrated with herself and her lack of sight that she gets angry.

Which can often lead to her acting outside of her usual behavior.

"There will be more accidents in the future," she reminds him, "I'm a walking disaster," she mutters the last part.

Coriolanus goes to shake his head, but she won't even see him do it.

"You're not a disaster."

"You're just saying that because you're my husband."

"I'm saying it because I love you," he sternly tells her, broken glass long forgotten, "have I ever done anything to lead you to believe otherwise?"

Soarynn is angry. She's hurting, and she'll lash out at just about anyone, including him.

"Well, it's not like I can keep an eye on you and your whereabouts."

Neither of them says anything after that.

꧁ ꧂

Coriolanus finds Soarynn in the library a few days later, after the wine glass disaster. She hasn't said much to him, and he hasn't said much to her either. They're both hurting, but in different ways.

He stops by the chair she's currently curled up on, reading one of her current favorite books for the tenth time this month. "I have to go to the office for a little while," he tells her.

"Okay."

She turns the page, paying him no mind. Coriolanus takes in a deep breath, getting angrier at her won't solve any problems for either of them. "If you need anything, have one of the maids call me."

"Okay."

He'll buy her some flowers on his way home, something pretty to cheer her up. Coriolanus leans down and kisses her forehead, grateful that she doesn't pull away from his touch. "I love you. I'll be back soon."

Soarynn doesn't reply, either too ensnared in her book or too mad to talk to him right now. Both options feel like a sharp dagger in his heart. Coriolanus leaves her be for now, there's no use in beating a dead horse. He passes by the bookstore on his way to the office, figuring he should talk to Mr. Thimble about his recent order to see how it's coming along.

He finds the old man in his tiny office in the very back of the store.

"Mr. Snow, what a lovely surprise. I assume your wife is already reading somewhere in the store?"

Coriolanus manages a polite smile, if only he knew how Soarynn was feeling right now. "She's not feeling too well right now. But I just wanted to see how the new book was coming along."

Mr. Thimble gladly shows Coriolanus the new pages with braille, explaining how long this order will take. "You know," the older man fumbles with his glasses, "I have been hearing stories about a new procedure."

Coriolanus feels his interest growing. "A procedure?"

"Yes." Mr. Thimble nods, "Yes, a procedure that can restore sight."

It's like the wind has been knocked out of him. Coriolanus knows not to get his hopes up for things like this, he's been led down wrong paths before, given false hope.

But Mr. Thimble wouldn't do that to him, do that to Soarynn.

"What, what is this new procedure exactly?" He asks, trying to remain calm.

"I haven't heard much," he admits, "but it supposedly can restore sight to the blind. It may not give your wife complete vision, but I figure something is better than nothing, eh?"

Coriolanus shoves his hands in his pockets. Procedures always have a risk involved. She could get hurt. She could die. But she could also see for the first time. If there's a chance, then shouldn't he take it?

"Yes. I suppose it is," he mumbles, "did you catch the name of the surgeon?"

Mr. Thimble scribbles down a name for Coriolanus to look into, and he thanks the man. "I'll call you when the book is finished, Mr. Snow," he calls. Coriolanus nods, wondering if it will even be needed if Soarynn can get her sight back.

It's a lot of blind trust to have in one person.

꧁ ꧂

Coriolanus returns home exhausted and without flowers. He spent most of his time at the office on the phone with this magic surgeon who could possibly restore Soarynn's sight. To say he interrogated the man would be an understatement. He'll have to meet him in person, take Soarynn for a consultation.

He's immediately greeted by Maria, who looks flustered and worried at the same time. "Oh, Mr. Snow, thank goodness you're home! We tried calling your office, but the line was always busy."

He can feel his heart sinking.

Did something happen with Soarynn? Is she okay? Who hurt her?

"What happened?"

"Mrs. Snow...she was out on a walk, and...and she fell."

Coriolanus is striding down the hallways before Maria can say anything else. "Soarynn," he calls, "Soarynn? Soarynn, where are you, darling?"

He rounds the corner that leads into the living room, coming to a halt when he sees Soarynn and her father sitting on the sofa. "Glen," he gets out, stunned to say the least at the sight of his father-in-law.

Glen's face is grim, which worries Coriolanus even further. Soarynn looks to be in good health. Coriolanus crosses over to them, reaching out for his wife, his love, his girl. Her face is crastfallen, but it brightens the slightest bit when she feels his large hands engulfing her small ones.

"Coryo."

She throws herself into his arms, trusting him to catch her, and he does. He will always catch her. Coriolanus sinks to his knees while wrapping his arms around Soarynn, inhaling the sweet scent of vanilla that lingers around her at all times.

"What happened, darling?"

"She fell," Glen answers for her, "she was out there all by herself, and she fell."

Soarynn pulls away from the embrace to scowl at her father. "I'm an adult," she says to him, "I'm allowed to go places by myself."

"Not when you're blind," Glen fires back, clearly worked up about this. "She fell near an intersection. Can you imagine hearing on the news that she was killed by a car? Killed with no one around to help her?"

Coriolanus doesn't want to think about it, doesn't want to think about a world without Soarynn in it, and a world where he could've prevented such a death.

"Soarynn, honey, I love you. I have loved you since the day you were born, and you know how much I've done to keep you safe, but things are different now. Things are different now, and you can't keep going to places by yourself, honey. It's too dangerous if Coriolanus and I aren't with you."

Soarynn sniffles at her father's plea, it makes it even worse that it's a logical one.

"I didn't mean to," she whispers, hot tears rolling down her cheeks like raindrops on a stormy day. It's fitting that her eyes are constantly filled with clouds.

Coriolanus wipes them away quicker than they came. "Of course you are, and it's not your fault, darling. We just want you to be safe, that's all."

Her bottom lip quivers in a way that can only mean more tears, and he can't have that. His darling girl deserves the world, she deserves to see the world.

"I've heard about a surgery," he murmurs, catching Glen's attention from the sofa. "A procedure," he corrects himself, "that could restore your sight." Glen immediately shakes his head. He's been down this road before, the road that leads to false hope and shattered dreams.

Soarynn has been to consultations before, only to be let down.

In the end, they gave up on any hope of Soarynn being able to see.

Perhaps it's time for some new hope.

"No," Glen says before Soarynn can get a word out, "we've been through this before, honey. Coriolanus wasn't there to see your tears, but I was, and I won't let you go through with this again."

If Soarynn could see, then she'd be giving her father a very defiant look right now. "I'm not a child anymore," she reminds him, "and as a married woman, the man I now trust to take care of me is my husband. If Coriolanus thinks there's a chance, then I'm willing to take it."

"What if it injures you further? What if you come out of it and can't hear anymore? Or feel? Or smell?"

Glen and his pesky points, always making sense.

Soarynn relies so heavily on her other senses. To lose one of those would be detrimental to her, like losing a limb. It's a risk to put it plainly.

"I won't know if I don't try," she tells him, "I want to do it."

There's no changing her mind now.

꧁ ꧂

The next two months are filled with endless doctor's appointments with Dr. Pham, who is the best ophthalmologist in the country. Soarynn deserves the best and nothing less.

Dr. Pham must be sick and tired of Coriolanus by now because he's called his office fifty times since their final appointment before the big day.

Soarynn goes into surgery tomorrow.

To say he's nervous would be an understatement. Coriolanus has been in a constant state of worry since the date was finalized. Part of him wished he had never brought it up to Soarynn, but at the same time, he knew he couldn't keep her in the dark any longer. If there was even the slightest chance of her being able to see, he had to take it.

It also doesn't help to have Glen constantly breathing down his neck, dam near threatening to have his head if this surgery goes wrong.

"I already lost my wife," Glen had told him one afternoon, "I won't lose my daughter too, and certainly not to your own personal agenda."

The one person who should truly be worried about this surgery going wrong is Soarynn, and she hasn't brought up a single concern since meeting Dr. Pham.

Coriolanus watches as she brushes her hair, so beautiful and kind. So gentle and lovely. Will she be here tomorrow? What if she doesn't wake up? What if something goes wrong? What if she gets hurt?

All these thoughts bubble to the surface until he can't stand it any longer.

"Darling," he says, crossing to her side of the large bathroom. Soarynn stops brushing her hair, looking up at him from over her shoulder. "Yes?"

Coriolanus swallows, he should be helping her get ready for bed. Under Dr. Pham's orders, she isn't to eat anything until after the surgery and will need to take a sedative in the morning.

"I've been thinking about tomorrow."

Soarynn perks up like a rose on the first sunny day in a month. "Oh, I have too. I can't wait to finally see your handsome face, Coryo. Can you imagine all I've missed? I wish I could've seen Petunia when she was a kitten."

He hadn't even thought about it like that, thought about all the things she's missed seeing all these years. Their wedding, Petunia as a kitten, her childhood home. Thankfully, they have lots and lots of photos, but still.

Soarynn has missed out on so much life. It's selfish of him to even think about cancelling tomorrow's surgery.

"Well, I took lots of photos of her when she was a kitten," Coriolanus assures her, getting down on one knee. He gently takes her hairbrush and sets it on the vanity so he can hold both of her hands.

"I just want you to know how excited I am for you, darling. Tomorrow will be so wonderful, and I just want you to know how precious you are to me, no matter what."

Soarynn's eyes fill with tears, and he begins to imagine what they'll look like without the constant clouds. Will they be bright blue like his own eyes?

"I am a bit nervous," she quietly admits, squeezing his hands. "But I can't let my life be ruled by fear anymore. I'm so tired of being scared to do things on my own, even though I know that I must be brave."

Coriolanus kisses the back of her hands. "You're already brave, darling, don't ever forget that."

Soarynn is the bravest person he knows.

Tonight, he'll make sure that she has everything she could possibly need to go into surgery tomorrow without a worry in the world. He'll read aloud her favorite books, and he'll hold her so tightly tonight as she drifts to sleep.

She is his entire life.

꧁ ꧂

The day of the surgery dawns upon them like a looming threat come to take what Coriolanus loves most in this world. He wakes up an hour before Soarynn does and just watches her sleep. She takes the softest little breaths when she's asleep, in and out, in through her nose, out through her mouth.

He could just let her sleep in, sleep past the surgery, and say the alarm clock never went off. It would be an honest mistake.

No. It would be wrong to deprive her of such a thing, of her sight.

Saying no to a midnight snack is much different than saying no to a life-changing surgery.

He would much prefer the snack right now.

Petunia wakes up from her spot at the foot of the bed with a yawn. She likes to enjoy a slow morning, which includes meowing directly in his face, stretching, eating, and then sleeping some more.

At least they can avoid the first part today.

At the sound of her cat, Soarynn's eyes flutter open, cloudy as a rainy day. Coriolanus smiles softly, brushing a stray hair out of her face. "Good morning, my love," he whispers. Soarynn hums, she, too, enjoys a slow morning.

Coriolanus usually likes to get up and get the day started without lingering in bed for too long, but on days like this, he indulges just a little bit. Soarynn somehow got out of his tight grasp while sleeping, so he's quick to pull her back into his embrace. Soarynn giggles against his bare chest, resting her hands on his skin.

"I get my sight today."

He kisses the top of her head, holding her a little tighter after hearing that. "Yes, you do. How are you feeling?"

"Fine. I'm hungry, but that will have to wait."

She's stronger than he is. Soarynn had to stop eating by dinner time, so she's gone without two meals now. Coriolanus would be starving.

"I'll have your favorite meal made when you get out of surgery," he promises. Soarynn loves lamb stew, she'd eat it every day if she could.

"I can't believe I'm going to be able to see your face soon," she whispers, burrowing into his chest. Coriolanus nods, he can't believe it either.

So while he's worried sick about something going wrong, he won't bring it up.

Today is about Soarynn, not him.

꧁ ꧂

Everything goes smoothly when they check into the hospital. Soarynn is given several pills to take, and Coriolanus helps her change into her hospital gown. She manages to make everything look good.

Soarynn giggles when he kisses her nose again. Coriolanus is desperate to distract himself from the disgusting pit of dread and fear. "Coryo, stop!" She giggles, playfully pushing him away.

Coriolanus sneaks in one more kiss before pulling away. "You promise to dream about me while you're asleep?" The thought of Soarynn going to sleep and possibly never waking up is more than enough to worry him. She's always been his sleeping beauty, but death comes for those who deserve it the least.

Soarynn included.

"I promise."

Even though she can't see him, he nods. Coriolanus can't believe that in a few hours, she'll be able to see him. A terrible thought crosses his mind.

What if he's not good enough? What if she sees all his flaws? His imperfections? What if she leaves him?

"Coryo?"

"Yes, darling?"

"Will the needle hurt?"

Ah, yes, Soarynn will need to be put under anesthesia, and that's what she's most worried about. She doesn't like needles, especially ones that dig deep under her skin to put her to sleep. Coriolanus has assured her time and time again that it'll just be a quick pinch, but she has yet to believe him.

"No, darling," he promises again, "you won't even know it's coming."

Wrong choice of words. Soarynn tenses at the thought of being poked without a fair warning. "I'll tell you," he quickly adds, "and hold your hand."

There's a knock at the door. Coriolanus made sure to get Soarynn the biggest possible room the hospital offered. "Come in," he calls.

It's Glen who walks into the room instead of their assigned nurse. "Oh, I thought I might have missed her." Soarynn sits up when she hears her father's voice. "I'm still here. They have to poke me."

Glen softly smiles. "It'll be over before you know it, honey."

Coriolanus knows how scared Glen is about this surgery, but he also knows how secretly excited he is about the possibility of Soarynn being able to see. After losing his wife, he admitted to going into a deep state of grief. To lose your wife is one thing, but to be left alone with a baby who can't see is another.

"It should take about an hour," Coriolanus tells both of them. He'll be counting down the minutes.

The nurse comes in a minute later, ready to poke Soarynn, who flinches at the sound of the door opening. "It's alright," Coriolanus murmurs while holding her hand, "it's just going to be a little pinch." Soarynn still whimpers when the needle goes under her skin, and a small tear manages to escape her grasp.

Coriolanus wipes it away, kissing the spot where it was last. "You did so good, darling," he praises, "so, so good."

The anesthesiologist comes in to put Soarynn to sleep about five minutes later. Coriolanus and Glen watch as Soarynn gives in to the powerful sedative, her eyes closing one last time without being able to see.

"For your sake, I hope this surgery goes well," Glen says, holding Soarynn's other limp hand. The threat is clear as day, if something goes wrong, Coriolanus is a dead man.

"It will," he replies, talking more to himself than to Glen, "she'll be fine."

Soarynn is the strongest person he knows.

They're almost at the finish line.

꧁ ꧂

The surgery went perfectly.

Coriolanus would be lying if he said he didn't spend every second thinking about what could go wrong. He nearly trampled Glen trying to see Soarynn once she was brought out of the operating room. It was a ghastly sight to see her beautiful face wrapped in bandages and gauze. Well, at least her eyes were covered in thick bandages that wrapped around her entire head.

Dr. Pham said it would take two days for everything to heal before they could take the bandages off. Coriolanus honestly would've waited years as long as it meant she was okay. The two days passed by quickly. Coriolanus never left her side, always holding her hand while she talked about one of her favorite books or Petunia.

Glen came and went, bringing changes of clothes and books for Coriolanus to read aloud to Soarynn, who was starting to get a little stir-crazy.

Right now, he's anxious all over again, watching Dr. Pham slowly unwrap the bandages around her face. He knows how ready Soarynn is to take a shower and get that off her face. Soarynn sits on the edge of her hospital bed, nervously grasping at her gown. This is the big moment of truth, the moment when they see if the surgery was successful or not.

Glen watches from the corner of the room, too nervous to truly look to see what's happening.

"Now, you'll experience some minor discomfort due to the fact that this will be the first time you're seeing the world around you. The fluorescent lights might come off as too bright, and loud colors and patterns might seem overstimulating to you. It's imperative that you take things slowly. The eye is the fastest healing organ, but it still needs time to rest." Soarynn nods, eyes still shut as he unwraps the last of the bandages.

Dr. Pham hands the bandages off to the nurse and looks back at Coriolanus, waving him over. His hands shake as he approaches Soarynn.

"Here we go," he whispers, taking her hands. Soarynn lets out a shaky breath, "Here we go."

Dr. Pham goes to dim the lights in the room for Soarynn's comfort. "You can open them whenever you're ready. Mrs. Snow."

This might be the best moment of his life, or the worst.

Soarynn lets out a deep breath and opens her eyes.

For a moment, no one says a word.

Coriolanus doesn't have to. Eyes are the windows to the soul, and he's looking right into hers.

Soarynn looks up at him with story blue eyes, so startling, nearly identical to Petunia's. He watches her pupils grow bigger when looking up at him, scanning her husband's face for the first time.

"Oh," she whispers, squeezing his hands.

She can see.

Coriolanus laughs, squeezing her hands. "Oh! Oh, darling, oh, Soarynn, you can see!"

Soarynn laughs too, looking up at him with so much love and adoration in her eyes. "I can see! I can see you, oh my goodness, Coryo, I can see you! You're so handsome!"

Coriolanus doesn't realize he's crying until a tear rolls down his cheek. Never in his life did he think this would be possible. She can see him.

"You can see," he whispers, pulling his hands from hers so he can hold her face. "Oh, my darling, you can see. I can't believe it worked."

Soarynn holds his wrist, leaning into his touch. "I've dreamt of this for so long," she murmurs, "seeing the colors, seeing you, being able to read books. Oh, I can't believe it worked."

Soarynn looks behind him, smiling when she sees the man who's been here from the very beginning.

"Father?"

Coriolanus completely forgot about Glen. He looks over at him and sees that he's crying, he can't imagine what this feels like for him.

"Why don't I give you two some space?" He suggests. Coriolanus really doesn't want to leave, but Soarynn deserves some time alone with her father, and she doesn't need him to watch over her the way he used to.

Because she can see.

Soarynn nods, smiling up at him.

"We'd like that."

Coriolanus leans down and presses a kiss to her cheek. "I'll be back soon," he promises.

Coriolanus, Dr. Pham, and the nurse quietly step out of the room to give Soarynn and Glen some privacy.

"Thank you," he says to the doctor, "truly, thank you. I can't believe you've given her the gift of sight."

"She seems very sweet," Dr. Pham tells him, "which just makes it more rewarding. There will be a few things she'll need to take to help make the recovery process as smooth as possible. Eye drops, antibiotics, but we can go over those later."

Coriolanus nods, looking back at the door leading to her room. They have all the time in the world now.

꧁ ꧂

"Okay, here we are."

Soarynn looks at the front doors to their penthouse in amazement. "They're brown." Coriolanus smiles, Soarynn has never seen colors before, and now she comments on everything. "Yes, they're mahongany. You'll find most wooden furniture in our home to be made of the same wood."

Soarynn reaches out to touch the doors. "I've touched them a thousand times and never knew what they looked like," she murmurs, looking up at him, "just like you."

He'd be a liar if he denied how exciting this has been for him. Soarynn can see, she can see him and his face and everything around them. She got discharged from the hospital this morning, and they spent the rest of the day exploring the Capitol. Even though she's been everywhere, she hasn't seen anything.

It's been a day of exploration and discovery for her.

"Just wait until you see Petunia," he tells her, fishing the keys out of his pockets. Soarynn gasps, she's seen so many people today, friends, friendly staff, even Mr. Nimbus, who recommended the surgery in the first place.

But Petunia is different.

Soarynn latches onto his arm while he unlocks the doors. "Oh, I can't wait!" The doors open up to their apartment, something Soarynn has never seen but knows like the back of her hand.

"Wow," she whispers, stepping inside with him, "I never imagined it would look so grand." Coriolanus feels pride flaring through his chest. Soarynn has always just taken his word for it when it came to describing their home. He could've had her living in squalor all while claiming it was a mansion.

But Coriolanus despises lying.

The truth hurts once, but a lie hurts a thousand times over.

Both their maids are waiting for them in the foyer, smiling ear to ear when they see Soarynn and, more importantly, when Soarynn sees them.

More tears are shed and hugs are exchanged between the women who have known Soarynn for years. They've seen her through it all, dressed her for dates with Coriolanus to their wedding day. Truly loyal servants, if he's ever seen any.

"Miss Petunia has been looking for you," Maria tells Soarynn. Coriolanus refrains from rolling his eyes, that cat is always looking for Soarynn. "I can't wait to see her," Soarynn gushes, "Coryo has described her, but to see it with my own eyes..."

She needn't explain the significance of being able to see to any of them, not when they've seen her in all aspects.

It's as if she's been summoned because a moment, later, they hear a meow. Soarynn gasps at the sight of her beloved cat, who casually strolls towards them, tail high in the air.

"Petunia!"

Soarynn crouches down, arms wide open, for the feline who looks genuinely surprised that Soarynn realizes she's here. Petunia pads over to Soarynn, sniffing her as if something has changed. "Aren't you just the prettiest thing, my little lady?" Soarynn scoops up Petunia, cradling her in her arms.

"How precious," Maria says softly, "what a miracle. What a miracle. We should get started on dinner to celebrate!"

Coriolanus watches Soarynn soak in all of Petunia and the demanding diva she can be, all while Petunia gives him a smug look. At least now, Soarynn can actually see how rude that cat is.

"I'll go unpack your hospital bag, darling."

Soarynn hums, too occupied with Petunia to really care about anything else. Coriolanus makes himself useful by putting her dirty clothes in the laundry and putting away her toiletries. He still can't believe she can see, that Soarynn can see him and see the world around her.

Part of him worries for her more than he used to. She'll want to be so independent, and the world is such a cruel place, even if she can see. But he won't worry about that now, or not today, at least. He ought to enjoy every second of this weekend before he has to go back to work.

After putting her things away, Coriolanus goes to get undressed to put on some more comfortable clothes. He unbuttons his shirt, tossing it into his own laundry basket. He's about to take his belt off when he hears a soft gasp come from the doorway.

Soarynn stands there with wide eyes and Petunia in her arms. Coriolanus smirks at her flustered appearance. Soarynn has felt his naked body many times, but she's never seen it before.

"Like what you see, darling?"

She swallows, taking in his shirtless physique. Since Soarynn relied so heavily on touch in the past, Coriolanus made sure to always have a sculpted abdomen for her to run her hands over and feel.

"Um. Um, well, well, I never, I've never seen you like this," she mumbles, turning a light shade of pink. Petunia wiggles out of her arms and runs back into the bedroom, leaving Soarynn alone with Coriolanus.

Coriolanus tilts his head, looking her up and down. She's wearing a pretty pink dress that compliments her skin tone beautifully. Soarynn had been so fascinated by her appearance when she first looked into a mirror. It's funny because he's been obsessed with her physical appearance since the day they met, so for her to just now discover it almost feels like a cruel joke.

"Am I up to your standards?" He teases, holding out his arms so she can see how strong he is. Coriolanus isn't one to brag, but, he looks very good, and now that she can see him, there's no need to be shy.

Soarynn bravely steps towards him, still leaving a bit of space between them. "I suppose I'll have to experience you once more to find out." Coriolanus grins, they've obviously had sex, but he can only imagine how different it'll be now that she can see.

The first time they ever did it was on their wedding night, like civilized Capitolites. Soarynn had been so nervous and rightfully so. She couldn't see anything, she had to put her full trust in him to take care of her. He sometimes shudders at the thought of her marrying someone else, someone who would have taken advantage of her.

He took things nice and slow that night, talking her through everything, kissing every part of her beautiful body. Soarynn might have been blind, but he was not. He loved every part of her, from her toes to her nose.

Everything is different now.

"Come here." He holds his hand out to her. Soarynn bites her lip but complies and slips her dainty hand into his large one. His fingers wrap around her own, and he tugs her towards him, closing the gap between them in seconds. Soarynn squeals when he wraps both arms around her waist, lifting her up and spinning them around.

"Coryo!" She laughs, wrapping her own arms around his neck, "Coryo! Put me down!"

Coriolanus really can't imagine ever letting her go, even though he knows he'll have to. Soarynn will want to explore and experience everything now that she has her sight, and he won't always be there to protect her.

"I'm afraid you're stuck with me for the rest of your life, darling," he informs her, pressing a kiss to her cheek. Coriolanus gently sets Soarynn down on the ground but doesn't pull away. Soarynn looks so lovingly into his eyes. "That doesn't sound so bad," she says softly. Coriolanus hums, nosing the bridge of her nose with the tip of his, something he's always been so fond of doing. "We've dealt with worse," he agrees.

They stay like that for a moment, locked in one another's embrace. He still can't believe she can see him, that after all these years, Soarynn can open her eyes and see the world around her. It'll be an adjustment, he knows that for certain.

His parents will be thrilled that their daughter-in-law is no longer blind. His mother has mentioned grandchildren more than once, but he's always been scared of losing Soarynn to childbirth. If they can overcome this, then they can overcome anything.

"As long as we have each other," she murmurs, "we'll be fine."

He couldn't agree more.

Coriolanus captures Soarynn's lips in a sweet yet persistent kiss. He knows they have the rest of their lives, but he can't help but kiss her until he needs to come up for air.

"You'll always have me, sweet girl, always."

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

| taglist: @lovelylove268 @kickmybark @iswearicanfixhim @wonderlandbound111 @melodyoflovee @thevoicesinmyprettylittlehead @erensrealgf @evilmenarehot @cervvsq @snowgirl12 @matcha-muses @anisangeldust @snowsgames @wakdjenwowj |

29 notes · View notes

cosmica-galaxy · 2 days ago

Note

I adore how you write the characters to how they’re to their cannon personalities and taking into account how they’d act in situations. Most of the new fanfics in the CRK fandom tends to either write them so painfully OOC or in ways that wouldn’t make any sense of their character to do/act or rewrite their entire personality as whole because they don’t like their cannon personalities/or don’t really care enough understanding how they are.

Thank you! I like to take pride in trying to write the characters as accurately as possible, even if I do take a few minor liberties at some points, yet I try to stay completely true to the character if I can. I don't mind people wanting me to write certain scenarios with certain characters, but sometimes I feel that it just wouldn't be right in any way that I would attempt to write it.

For example, Burning Spice isn't much of a character for caring about raising something. He wants entertainment, to fight, and to destroy--and having a child following him around wouldn't be in character for him. (no shame at all to the person who sent the ask, obviously) He would mostly keep the child around to draw out his enemies for the fight he longs for, as he knows that his rivals care very much about the little one in his grasp. Once they have "served their purpose", he would attempt to destroy them, as it is in his nature. Yet, he DOES have at least some semblance of remorse (as shown in his dialogue between nutmeg tiger cookie while he is in your kingdom), but he is a still a thrill-seeking megalomaniac. However, for a Beast like Shadow Milk, it would be more likely for him to "look" after the little one because they are so easy to entertain, manipulate, lie to, and (of course) that the child he has is VERY close to his other-half, Pure Vanilla. It also makes sense for him to slowly become attached to said child because he is canonically a lonely beast cookie, but he is resistant to admitting such a reality. However, he is more likely to let his guard down while playing with the little one and allow himself to even...enjoy their company. The same can be said for Eternal Sugar cookie. I also detest how some people tend to turn dynamic characters into a single personality trait without any regards to how the character grows over time or has a deeper personality beyond their actions or surface attitudes. For example, Dark Cacao may not be the CLOSEST to the baby witch, but he still has the capacity to care for them. In canon, he still cares and loves his son, even when he was facing the Cookies of Darkness (right before he becomes berserk cacao) he ADMITS that he wasn't as great of a father as he should have been to Dark Choco Cookie. But he is prideful and very stubborn, as it is integral to his character. Dark Cacao isn't cruel or unfeeling, he's just very emotionally walled-off from the years of hardship and pride he has endured, but even he can have a soft side.

While I enjoy the fact that people entertain these ideas with certain characters, I can't help but do my best to try and FIT that character into the situation in a way that they would canonically react. It's definitely mostly a "me" thing, but you know. Yes, Papa Spice is an interesting idea, as for Mama Apathy or any other characters that would act a little out of character. But, for me, I try to be as reasonable and accurate as possible. Thank you for noticing my efforts, though! <: )

#hax speaks #haxorus imp #cosmica galaxy #cosmica-galaxy #anonymous #anon asks #anon ask #crk tag #cookies and humans #baby witch au

27 notes · View notes

w-40-k · 3 days ago

Text

Guilliman's Gambit is an amazing name!

Of course, how could I forget Cawl. He's the poster boy for questionable but highly effective bullshit.

Though I was thinking that, pherhaps originally Thiel had been the one who originally commissioned the collar/discovered an STC or other powerful archotech (Pherhaps cawl bases the collar off of the design of the original collar it). Even if it was just in a 'this is what I should've done but didn’t' even if just for his piece of mind type of situation.

(Thiel is in a very dark place. Grieving the man that was both his father and friend; blaming himself for not pushing back harder. In his heart of hearts, he knows that Guilliman won't wake up -he wouldn't if not for literal divine intervention- but just for the faintest possibility that he *does*, he can't let something like that ever happen again.)

As for the armor; I ment to say was that Guilliman is still to some degree vital for his health, thus it is something to keep in mind and also somewhat of a logistical hazzard. Not that they would keep it from him.

Somewhat related to preventing him from escaping; they know his greatest weapon is his mind. Thus they would actively restrict and monitor the information he has access to/receives (if he doesn't know of a situation he can't involve himself in it).

In turn, this would force Guilliman to rely a lot more on the baselines around him over his own sons. That is to say he starts to grow his own information network comprised of the various baselines in his vicinity.

Thing is, whilst he is a primarch, he has to do all of that whilst also manoeuvring around his sons, who have a vested interst in keeping an eye on things. And running the empire.

Re: guarding him; this puts a definitive strain on things. The Imperium is spread thin as is, those forces could be put to use elsewhere. Pherhaps at that point they would would consider breaking with the codex by forming an eleventh company dedicated solely to guarding him, or found an entire chapter comprised of veterans from various chapters to fulfil much the same purpose.

Huge conflict of interest and a regular point of friction; the UM's need the reassurance that their father is safe (you also *really* want to avoid renegade Ultramarines. Dante and Calgar are going to have an *interesting* conversation at some point) but Emporer knows those forces are desperately needed elsewhere.

In general, Macragge post collaring, will see a lot more scrutiny from the Ultramarines. Shoring up the defenses, training the PDF up to at a minimum the standards of the Imperial guard etc.

As for the Blood Games (do they adopt the name?); whoever wins those get's added to Guilliman's personal guard, similar to the position of the emperor's caretakers.

They and the astartes on guard duty get a special color shema (copper pherhaps, to make it distinct from the orange of the sixth company)

Re: ivory tower; I wanted to keep it generic (the palace the trio governed imperium secundus from), but i agree, they totally would keep him in his former resting place (although far more heavily fortified and without the the presence of pilgrims and other non-personel). Guilliman would be absolutely miserable and hate every moment.

This also nicely encapsulates the way that to the UM's, treat Guilliman less like a person and more like a prized show horse.

Got an angsty idea:

-In Short-

Yandere ultramarines binding/caging/disabling Guilliman at all costs for his own safety. Even if they must hurt him, even break him to do it. No more fulgrim/mortarion incidents.

-In Long-

Basically, what if after witnessing his reckless personal behavior towards personally fighting his brothers and his "death" at the hands of fulgrim as well as his LITERAL death at the hands of Mortarion (regardless of the fact he was brought back, he fucking DIED), the Ultrabois just fucking go full Yandere and try to keep him out of battle and under watch as much as they possibly can to ensure his absolute safety from ANY harm, even himself? And what if this desire, this NEED to keep their primarch, their FATHER, safe went to the extreme as he inevitably tried to get back to business, including personally fighting? He's a primarch after all, weapon first, human second, and his duty is to guide and safeguard the Imperium...

My brain basically had an idea of a gilded bird-caged and bound Guilliman and spun a background around it. Some mental images even include a blindfold and gag for the Ultrabois benefit cuz you know Guilliman's words are some of his best weapons (best way to talk them out of it- to a point).

Very OOC, I know, but with the way the Ultrabois were willing to die in droves to get him away from fulgrim as he was dying AND to protect his stasis before his revival, it seems it could very easily become a possibility via Slaaneshi influence, Lord of Excess and all...

GOD I wish I could draw bodies or write 😭

#warhammer 40k #roboute guilliman #Ultramarines #Storge Mania #m

94 notes · View notes

bloomsberries · 3 days ago

Text

No Fina x Marta, but they were separately in a couple of scenes. Fina’s were less interesting to me, but I see Luis brought back that blessed notebook.

Now onto this scene, which followed a scene in which Tasio and Marta worked to consolidate their ideas on the Miranda perfumes Luis had so much trouble with. I actually do like Tasio and Marta getting along. I think he could be a good ally. He’s been trying for a while to fit into his role, both in the company and the family, and I think Marta has resisted. She’s so much her father’s daughter in some ways. That’s why this scene was so interesting. Don Pedro can’t help twist the knife even while he’s congratulating them on getting the job done so is it any wonder, Don Pedro, que a Marta no le apetece? I loved that fake smile she gives him, and the second she turns it disappears. I truly cannot wait for Don Pedro to get his comeuppance.

#sueños de libertad #suenos de libertad spoilers #marta de la reina

28 notes · View notes

nabi-unveiled · 15 hours ago

Text

Will It Be Okay? Convincing Yourself is the Hard Part

Business as Usual occupied a good chunk of my mental real estate in the past several weeks. I've been vibing with it (and distracted by Min Jun's arms), but I've also found it frustrating.

However, unlike most people who were frustrated with Min Jun, I was frustrated with myself. Because I couldn't put a finger on Min Jun's character, and I overthought everything about this show. From the pinboard to the editing of the bar scene to several other plot points later in the show, I kept looking for things to go deeper. And it never really did. In the end, it was the fact that I kept trying to go deeper that tripped me up in understanding Min Jun.

Before we go further, let's get one thing out of the way -> this show is no "Our Dating Sim". If you go into it expecting that, you will be disappointed. If you haven't watched Our Dating Sim, go watch that instead. Furthermore, Min Jun and Wan are VERY different characters as I'll explain later. In short, ghosting is cruel and to see someone largely overlook the cruelty of their actions can be hard to swallow.

And while there are some details that I love, like the fact that the characters sing the songs and the lyrics align to their feelings, there are plenty of places where the details just weren't there. Like the plushie vending machine which, other than plot, had no good reason to exist with the exact same keychains eight years later.

Or the dating guide (game?) which might as well have not existed.

You also have to believe that at least Min Jun went no contact and didn't look Jin Hwan up on socials for 8 years. That's easy enough for me. A jerk from my past? I am not seeking that information out. Plus, outside of Tumblr, I engage in almost no social media. But I can see how that could be hard for some people to believe.

In terms of analysis, one of the biggest problems I ran into is that we know VERY little about our characters at all. Especially outside of this relationship as @dramalove247 pointed out in their own analysis.

We have some information about Jin Hwan:

He went to study abroad after Min Jun ghosted him.

He's very good at his job. He had a lot of job offers from "big publishers" before joining the company. The director sings his praises.

His mother died when he was young, and his father is putting pressure on him to join the family business.

He was "popular" in college with a pretty tight friend group that enjoys going to clubs and pick-up bars. They counted on Jin Hwan to help them pick up girls and got upset if he didn't come.

In college, he was the type to fall asleep during the FIRST lesson of a course. And it appears that's due to his social activities/personality and not things like part-time jobs.

And as @miss0atae points out, he has one of the most amazing best friends and wingman that I've ever seen in a drama series. For real, Woo Hyeok has been looking out for him since the early stages of this relationship. You see this when he redirected their friends so Jin Hwan could make a getaway with Min Jun.

But Min Jun? Most of what we know was just in service of the relationship.

He had a dream to take a class with someone he likes. Jin Hwan becomes that person.

He got tricked in a bar into buying a bottle of liquor. He's been burned by people before making him distrustful.

He's "not good with words" and frequently spends time alone (by choice). Hence the difficulty speaking up to and communicating with Jin Hwan.

He's diligent in his work. He doesn't yell at the intern when he makes mistakes and takes on more work than he should. Again emphasizing that he can be pushed around. Although I would argue it's a good thing that he doesn't yell at the intern.

He gets one phone call from an old classmate getting married at the beginning of the series. But that's solely a plot device to justify him thinking about Jin Hwan.

That's it. Outside of his relationship with Jin Hwan, we know so little. No other friends. No family. No ways he prefers to spend his time. Nada.

Despite these things, I found myself appreciating the series for what it was. A simple story of two people coping with their fears to find each other again. Key word there -> coping, not overcoming. Growth comes in baby steps in this show. I'm okay with that. That's often true for real people too.

As we came to the end, I found myself satisfied with the finale (ep 6). There were a lot of similarities with Something's Not Right, but I didn't have the same reaction to the two finales.

It all came down to the fact that it felt like a believable ending for these characters to me. And one that gave me hope for their future as a couple. But why? Especially because I believe they are both STILL afraid in some ways, and I think they'll fight A LOT. That requires explaining my personal interpretation of these characters.

How did I fill in the outline that the show left us? {Another Note - For most of these points, I could pull screenshots from multiple episodes. The dialogue is pretty repetitive or serves similar purposes throughout.}

Jin Hwan is the one with regrets.

During their college relationship, Jin Hwan was always the one taking the first step. He noticed Min Jun at the bar. He asked for the pen. He asked for his phone number.

As the relationship develops Jin Hwan keeps being the one taking the first step. He asks Min Jun out to eat. He asks him over to his place. He's the one that initiates their hand-holding, kisses and sex. He's a smooth operator in a lot of ways.

And in many ways this pattern repeats itself as an adult. He comes to work at Min Jun's company.

He once again asks for Min Jun's phone number. He asks him out to eat. He initiates their physical intimacy. He's still heavy handed in his flirting.

At first glance, it could seem like he hadn't changed at all....until his smile drops and he admits that he was mad and hurt.

We don't really know anything about Min Jun in the time between ghosting and reunion, but we do Jin Hwan.

We see his devastation after Min Jun ghosted him with Woo Hyeok knocking on his door. He tells us that he "lost his way" when he went to study abroad.

We see that he has practiced how to make the little cat out of the bottle cap until he can do it while drunk.

We see that he has kept the plushie keychain all of these years.

He's carried those memories with him and constantly wondered...if I had said anything, would it have been different? If I had told him I loved him or asked him out, would he have stayed?

Because back then, he only spoke the most important words to a sleeping Min Jun.

So he takes steps to rectify what he saw as his mistakes. Now, he speaks those words openly.

In college, he often didn't really "listen" to what Min Jun said. He didn't recognize the effort it took for Min Jun to speak up and the fears underneath.

But now he does. As an adult, all of their conversations involve both of them hearing each other out. They don't agree, but they are both involved and heard. Min Jun speaks more now. Jin Hwan listens more now. That's growth. Incremental as it may be.

And in many ways, while Jin Hwan's mad that Min Jun didn't yell at him or fight for their relationship back then, he's the one that expresses true regret throughout the series. "I was afraid of loving sincerely back then."

Those regrets have propelled him to cling tighter. To try to take steps so that Min Jun DOESN'T misunderstand and so that he can't just walk away without saying his words.

Jin Hwan has convinced himself that they CAN make things work now that they know their issues. He fully believes that if he expresses himself sincerely and they both try, that it will be okay.

He just needs Min Jun to not give up and fight for them too.

Min Jun is emotionally reactive.

Which brings us to Min Jun. Who continually repeats the same line of dialogue in slight variations.

This is where frustration with Min Jun will set in for many viewers. Not true for me, but many probably wanted to throw something at Min Jun by this point. Because his words don't change. If anything, they are harsher by the finale episode. It's his actions that show his growth, not his words. And they are BABY steps. But as was pointed out early on in the show, even baby steps are hard for him. For him, a baby step is a giant leap. It took a lot of work.

Honestly, his words aren't wrong. They are two people who operate VERY differently from each other, and do not understand each other on a basic level. It will take a lot of work for them to maintain this relationship. It won't be easy.

What might be the biggest issue for most people watching this show is that Min Jun doesn't ever really regret his actions. He's not Wan from Our Dating Sim. He's not accepting responsibility for Jin Hwan's pain, and he never apologizes for ghosting. He's shocked and upset that he had the wrong idea all of these years. He's sad that they both got hurt. But in many ways, he still feels that his choice was justified. Even by the end of the show, he's only beginning to entertain the thought that things might have been different.

And in fairness to him, Jin Hwan isn't sure it would have been.

Initially, I had a lot of trouble understanding Min Jun's character. I had to revise my character profile for him several times throughout the show. And I should give a shoutout to @my-rose-tinted-glasses for trying to help me when I was at peak overthinking and Min Jun confusion. I doubt I made a lot of sense that day while all of my cogs were still turning.

I first thought Min Jun was like Masumi in End of the World With You...so devastated by Jin Hwan's "betrayal" that his world stopped. But that proved false. Jin Hwan may have considered Min Jun as "the one who got away" to some degree, but Min Jun held Jin Hwan primarily as a bad memory. However, he went on with life. He even dated others. He's no Masumi.

I then considered what else could be behind his behavior. Several people were suggesting he was depressed. And...maybe? We really don't have enough evidence to say. Preferring to stay at home rather than go to the club or having a night of heavy drinking following an ex coming back into your life doesn't really prove long-term depression. It's really just a reminder of how little we know about him.

Was it low self esteem? After all, Hira essentially ghosted Kiyoi in My Beautiful Man (from Kiyoi's perspective) and that was 100% due to self-esteem. Min Jun does say that he "was ordinary" and several other statements depicting low self-confidence. But how deep do those issues go? We don't know. Several of his traits and actions could just be due to having a more reticent and reserved personality. After all, he doesn't even know the office gossip. I recognize another overthinking, internal processor that gets stuck in their own head when I see it. But regardless of how deep his self esteem issues go, it IS true that his perception of differences between Jin Hwan and himself helped fuel his fear.

Because that's what we know for certain. He was afraid. He was afraid that Jin Hwan wouldn't like him for who he was. He was afraid that Jin Hwan wasn't serious. Which he had EVERY reason to believe. Jin Hwan was making jokes about leaving him alone all day while he played and expecting him to be waiting at home at night right before they had sex for the first time.

Again, WE know Jin Hwan was trying to figure out his first time really liking someone. WE know he was sincere. But from Min Jun's perspective? There was a LOT of evidence to the contrary.

Even the misunderstanding with the girl shows that other people were ALSO getting the wrong idea about Jin Hwan. It can be assumed that they were BOTH sending some mixed signals. Jin Hwan wasn't really sure Min Jun was invested either. Both Jin Hwan and Min Jun held back due to their personal fears.

But it's very telling what they looked up on their phones during flashbacks. Jin Hwan looked up a name compatibility test that showed they "aren't compatible". Even back then, he was looking for evidence that the relationship could work. He looks for ways to get what he wants despite his fears.

But Min Jun was already feeding his doubts and giving in to his fears. After all, he's been tricked before, and it's implied that the bar wasn't a singular event. And many of his actions were dictated by that.

That hasn't changed in the present. In fact, he's now MORE afraid. This "mean/stern face" side of Min Jun didn't exist in college. It's part of how he's changed. Jin Hwan may be afraid of letting Min Jun go again. But Min Jun's afraid that their differences in communication and their differences in personality will end up hurting each other. His fears from the past were validated. Even if miscommunication was at work, their relationship resulted in pain.

He wants to believe. He really wants to believe that this relationship could work.

But he doesn't. He hasn't convinced himself. He doesn't think it will be okay.

From here on out, I'm going to differ with a lot of people's interpretations that I've seen. I've thought a lot about it, and I'm okay with that.

As I realized shortly before the finale (ep 6), the show always told us exactly who Min Jun was as a character. He's a cat. He will want a lot of alone time, but he'll require (even demand) a lot of attention. He offers affection, but only on his own terms. And he reacts quickly and almost instinctually to emotional turmoil. When he's emotional, he doesn't think. He reacts. When he feels hurt or gets afraid, his claws will come out. In college, he was a kitten.

But he's now an adult cat. When his fears cause him to react, his claws are sharp.

It's also important to recognize that Jin Hwan KNOWS this about Min Jun. He's learned. Because when he lost his phone? He IMMEDIATELY knew it could be a problem. That Min Jun would be getting worked up in his head even if it had only been a short period of time. Essentially, Min Jun is going to be clingy as all get out. Jin Hwan is okay with that.

But while the fear has deepened in some ways and his claws have gotten sharper, Min Jun HAS grown. We see his growth in his actions. As a kitten, he ran away when afraid.

But as an adult? He tries to fight his fear. He tries to convince himself it's okay. If you watch the NC scene in episode 5 carefully, he wants it. But he's afraid. Afraid of what comes after. But he still allowed himself to enjoy the moment. There are a lot of smiles in that NC scene and the morning after too even as he's mulling over his fears.

He tells himself not to be scared. That Jin Hwan giving attention to someone else doesn't mean he's less important.

He tells himself that it's ok to stay home while Jin Hwan goes out with his friends. That Jin Hwan will like him anyways.

He tells himself that it's ok to really like and need Jin Hwan. That Jin Hwan needs him too. When he couldn't get in contact and thought Jin Hwan may be hurting (from his father's words), he went to find him.

Evidence shows that he was WORRIED about Jin Hwan. At this point, it's not noble idiocy (in my mind). Before he starts searching, the memory is focusing on Jin Hwan's almost tearful expression.

But then he finds Jin Hwan. He realizes he has overthought things and panicked for no reason. Jin Hwan is fine, and he didn't really need him. Jin Hwan is smiling, while he's been trying to convince himself not to spiral and panic for most of the evening. Min Jun doesn't like this feeling. He can't tell himself it will be ok in this moment.

So he pushes Jin Hwan away and tells him to leave him alone. He wasn't thinking about the company in this moment. He was reliving their miscommunications of the past. He was envisioning that this would keep happening again and again. He was giving into his fear. He'd been reminded of all the reasons he thinks this can't work out, and he reacted. His claws emerged.

When Min Jun mentions the company later to Woo Hyeok, I again don't see it as noble idiocy. I see that as him giving a socially acceptable excuse for breaking things off. Maybe it's just me, but I've definitely offered up what I considered to be a "palatable" excuse when having to justify my less-than-noble actions.

And he knows his reasons aren't noble. This is where self-esteem comes back into play. He doesn't like that he's a cat. He doesn't like that he needs attention. He doesn't like the idea that they'll fight and hurt each other. As he said during the argument, he knows it's not fair. But he also knows himself.

I do believe that Woo Hyeok's prodding would be enough to trigger the airport run. Min Jun has had time to calm down. He's no longer in the middle of an emotional spiral, and he has already recognized that he missed Jin Hwan. So when Woo Hyeok drops the news that Jin Hwan is leaving abroad, he's in a place to hear it. Jin Hwan had always been the pursuer. This was the FIRST time that Jin Hwan was the one leaving. Min Jun now had to face a new fear -> losing Jin Hwan forever. And he may not be able to fully convince himself that everything will be okay in their future. But he easily convinces himself that Jin Hwan leaving is NOT okay. That thought scares him. And just like other times when Min Jun gets scared, he reacts. Only this time it's a reaction that causes him to fight FOR the relationship instead of against it. Baby steps.

Jin Hwan easily forgives his previous hurtful words, because he does know Min Jun and this is really what Jin Hwan has wanted all along. For Min Jun to convince himself that they are worth fighting for. Jin Hwan couldn't fight for their relationship alone.

They will argue. They will have problems. But the steps they have taken towards two way communication, attempts to understand each other, and the fact that they are both now convinced that the relationship is worth the work? Well, that convinces me that it'll be okay too.

Footnote: Regardless of Min Jun's reasons, I'll reiterate that the ghosting is still incredibly cruel. As I've said in my other posts, I give Jin Hwan a lot of respect for even trying to reconcile. I can easily see why people would be mad at or not like Min Jun. It's just not in me to dislike him though. Blame it on the arms if you must.

#i tried to fit too much into this post #and i rewrote it so many times #i still don't love it #but i'm out of time #so here's what we got #i could probably give an hour long lecture on min jun at this point #they gave me an outline and I colored in the lines #he's frustrating and we want him to speak up #we want him to own up to his mistakes and we want him to make it easy #but that's not who he is #it's not who he will ever be #and jin hwan has to be prepared for that for this to work #real people are flawed #real people do frustrating things #many people DO lash out when afraid #many people DO keep their thoughts to themselves #many people DO use excuses to hide their true motivations #many people struggle to understand each other #these two are no different #but i appreciate that they're willing to work on it...together #business as usual #korean bl #this post became a novel

22 notes · View notes

keelt9 · 1 day ago

Text

CHERRY II

Masterlist

Rattle, totally embarrassed that’s how he felt.

The stain in her shirt covers all her chest; worst of all, her shirt is white, with a big brown dot.

��Fuck!” Max said stopping dry when he realized he was about to clean the shirt from the chest of an unknown girl.

Cameron opened his eyes and mouth when sees the big stain as the girl closed her eyes and tense her jaw.

“Sorry, I… I…” Max words are not available.

David’s mother knows what to do, moms always know what to do.

“Omg, let’s go, you need to change that before the stain goes deeper.” She pulls the girl from the arm, taking all her purchases and leaving it on the counter.

David's father's whistle, it’s been a couple of days but they get along pretty well, even they joke around from time to time.

“Well, you meet and make furious the daughter of the owners from half of this town.” David's father observes Max and Cameron's face went pale as ghosts. “I’m joking.”

Max breaths out. “Not half the town but yeah the fact she’s furious.”

“Oh my fucking God!” Max gets his head backwards closing his eyes and his fist.

Five days he got without troubles, five freaking days.

An old lady clears her throat after hearing Max swear. “Shit sorry.“ One more. “Sorry, sorry.”

“I’m fine Mrs. Becket, it’s ok.” Y/N said as she took her to their house to change her clothes.

“I can pass home and change my clothes.”

“Please Y/N, you could get sick, the breeze is cold today.”

In fact she is because she starts to shiver. Following a quick change of shirt she realizes she’s late; after thanks to her, she quickly apologizes for having to leave so fast.

Running back to the entrance where Mr. Becket is waiting with her things; she quickly pays after seeing her note; waiting for the change, she sees the Red Bull guy, waiting stand next to the snack area, ready to approach.

When her phone rings, Harriet.

“We had the images, where are you?” Harriet said and for the way she gasps, she’s hanging from some wall.

“Sorry, I’ll go.” She thanks Mr. Becket running with the bag leaving the guy with a hand raise.

She’s not mad, she’s late and with thrilling feelings for the images of the scanner from one of the big murals; they finally will know how deep is buried along a parcial guess of the damage.

“Download the images, I’ll be there in 5.” She said getting in the car driving fast to the church.

Five minutes later and a new shirt, she arrived seeing her team gather around the computer, as she approaches, yeah, their worst fears in images.

“It’s like hell buried.” Ron said, taking a step back, tossing his hair.

“And the humidity did the job.” Harriet passes to another image. “I can’t see anything.”

See anything that means the mural is damaged, really bad.

Her day could be worse?

“You change your shirt?” Mila asks, turning around, she’s wearing a pink shirt.

Y/N scoffs, seeing the imagenes. “I get spoiled.”

“Literally?” Ron jokes seeing the big mural to the left, knowing there is another 4 mts of mud to dig; and there are 6 murals.

Y/N hums seeing her worst scenario in front of her eyes as months of work ahead, she gets down her head.

“I’ll ask for more machines.” Y/N said knowing her father never denied but that means, he will be there one more time; with nostalgic memories on every talk.

It’s not like her parents own half of the town it’s just, her father has an important construction company that years ago it was just a small business, as it grows, helps a lot of people in town for finance and start to build their home or make it more solid. As he builds small businesses and creates proper spaces for kids and grown up adults. Her mother did all the social restructuring and help, established hospitals, and schools; all the things people could need, along with starting to make her own dream true.

Even when they're gone, the help doesn’t stop, from time to time her mother goes back making sure things keep functioning as they supposed and her father goes and supervises the buildings to keep in good shape and if people require helping so they can build a new home.

“The prodigy daughter solving.” Mila said with a funny smile, standing picking her things for going back to work.

They already spend so much time talking with the people of the town.

“Are you sure you will be fine all alone?” Cameron asks Max the last day he will be in town, seeing Max who is really comfortable around there, even making friends.

Max goes with him to the train station, which they didn't know existed, until they started to walk around. The reason is, it only has one destiny, the nearest town, where you must take another to arrive in the big city.

“Go. I’ll be f...” Max words stuck when the loud sound of big machines starts to hear.

People start to perk on their windows to the main road with happy expressions as they actually could be waiting for something more than the machines.

David, who apparently was coming out of the school, even stopped in the road with his bag on his back talking with a visibly cheerful boy.

“David!” Max shouted at him, causing him to say goodbye to the other boy and go where Max and Cameron are standing.

“I thought you were already on the plane, Cameron.” David jokes with him, he knows he leaves in the afternoon.

“Where did that come from?” One by one the machinery enters the town but people keep observing the road, definitely the machinery wasn’t the main focus of the attention.

“They are from Alderwood.” Max and Cameron narrow his eyes, making David laugh.

“Who?”

Then the main focus apparently makes their entrance, in a black car, after all the machines. At the other side of the road Max could see the girl of the stain waiting; coming outside of the car two men with sunglasses and in fancy clothes stole hisses from all around the road.

“They.” David points to the mens who walk right away where the standing girl is shaking her head, not wasting any second for hugging her tight. “The Alderwood, the prodigy kids of here.”

Y/N hates the attention this has, but it was her brothers and their presumptuous entrance or her father and his overwhelmed cuddles.

“OMG! What do I ask?” She said when Kilen hugged her tight.

Kilen laughs, kissing her head. “I think we could forget something.” Holt laughs waiting for his turn from hugging his little sister.

“Hey, you said you’ll be waiting for us in the church.” Kilen noticed people coming out of their houses and storages waving his hand to them as they waved it back with a wide open smile.

Y/N dry laughs came seeing how her brothers love the attention.

“After the excavator park in front of the church the sound doesn't stop?” Holt giggles, seeing another 3 machines parked waiting for indications.

“Don’t blame us, dad said you need equipment, it’s not our fault he didn’t mention how many.” Kilen said, taking his sunglasses with a small smile appearing on his face. “This place hasn’t changed.”

Y/N scratches her forehead. “When are you leaving?”

“JESUS! Y/N we just arrived, we will be here for a couple of days.” Holt said, taking his sungless too. “Be easy with us.”

Y/N forget, she avoids the sentimentalism but her father sends her the big show mens brother instead, they smile putting his sunglasses back giving the last instruction to the people that come with them, and going back to the car.

“Do you need a ride?” Kilen said seeing at the backstreet her jeep, she took a rock from the ground as his brother started to drive down the road to the church.

Y/N let the rock slip from her hand as she realized what her brother said. “Did he say days?!”

When she opened her eyes the machinery followed them and just few people remained in the street; across the street she recognized the Red Bull guy who stained her shirt, is he blushing or is her anger reflected in a color.

Next to them waving his hand in his bicycle David, she softens her features and smiles at David waving her hand back, remembering she had two brothers doing a show in the church, she runs back to her jeep hoping to minimize the show.

In vain, totally in vain.

The rest of the day she and her team had more helping hands than usual, all taking their time to talk with her brothers that opposite what she could expect were actually helpful, coordinating the machinery as they make sure people keep away from compromise areas, taking notes for future works in town.

At the end of the day, they call it a wrap earlier, thanking and saying goodbye to the people who invite them to pass from their house or business.

“You’re doing a great job.” Holt said observing the church is officially changing his form from a mountain of rocks and mud to what it was years ago.

Y/N take a view of how much they advance today. “I’m not even starting with restoring the paintings.” Holt laughs about how analytic his sister could be. “What job are you talking about?”

“Is that bad if you take a compliment?” He pushed her softly.

Y/N laughs walking back for finally rest. “I will gladly take it if it is true.” Holt shakes his head walking behind her.

A couple of days turned into 5 days of her brother's around the town doing some things in the church and another in the town houses or in the small business.

“All I'm saying is I could get in.” Y/N said walking to the tent where food and drinks are.

Ron shakes his head, it's the fourth time Y/N insist she can get inside of the confessional taking the X Ray they need and coming out, when both of them know they don't know if what they see is the wall or rocks and mud.

Ron grabs a bottle of water as Y/N asks for the same as always.

“I…”

Thank god Holt reached them, sign that the machinery had finished their work.

“Ok, that must be all… until now.”

Y/N didn't notice she just grabbed the cup with her black coffee when Holt leaned to his left seeing the boy at her back.

“Are you Max Verstappen?” Ron and Y/N turn around finally noticing Max in a black apron.

Max instantly blush when her eyes don't move from him as she grabs the cup of coffee.

“Yes.” He answered with a press smile.

“Do you know each other?” Y/N asks, seeing Holt scoff and the stain guy shake his head. “So…”

Holt scratched his head. “The guy is a F1 driver.”

Y/N shakes her head, she knows what F1 is but besides the fact that cars are fast as hell, she doesn't have any other clue.

“He's millioner as hell and good as God.” Holt clarifies for the friends who are observing Max as he's a fly in the honey.

“Excuse me!” An angry Mila shouted from a distance. “We're in the middle of something important!”

She points to the last truck driving away and the big wood door finally free to open.

Ron scoffed as Y/N in one single shot drunk all the black coffee like its water, causing Max to open his eyes wide open.

He couldn't notice but a small smile appeared in her face seeing him so surprised.

Holt rolls his eyes. “Please tell me that it is water.”

Ron shakes his head. “She needs her liquid.”

“God! Y/N, we already talked about being more controlled with the coffee.” Holt complains as his little sister keeps waking.

“Don't mess up with my drinks, Alderwood!” She screams running where Mila is waiting.

Holt chuckles turning around. “Can I ask you a favour?”

His question took Max by surprise, leaving one option, nods.

“Put more water in that black liquid she drinks, don't ask her just put more water.” Holt said, causing Max smirk. “Thank you Max, it's been a pleasure.”

Max smiles watching the guy walking away tipping something on his phone, then observing the empty cup she left on the table; his curiosity won, he immediately smells it, closing his eyes and pressing his nose between his fingers.

That thing smells like death.

Later at night after covering her with kisses and hugs, finally the brothers leave, promising it won't pass so much time before they come back, hopefully the three of them.

“Please don't.” Y/N complains, making her brothers hug her tighter.

They know her sister is allergic to any type of show of affection, making them wonder. What happened with that little girl who refused to let go of their hands every time they hang out?

For Victoria it is hard to believe what her eyes see. Her older brother wears an apron and a cap every morning then switches for casual clothes.

“What?” Max asks, seeing the way her sister's eyebrows lift through the phone.

“Are you ok?” Victoria asks as her giggles. “Don't take me wrong Max but you suppose resting.”

Max takes his bag before going out of the department that somehow David's parents found for him.

“I am, but everyone here supports each other and with the restoration of the church basically all moves around there, so I don't have any problem.”

Victoria has seen that hidden smile but she just let it pass, maybe Max finally is relaxing.

“Hey, I have to go, give them a kiss to the kids for me ok?” Victoria nods.

“Have a good day Max.”

His day it's really simple but adorable.

Every morning he arrives to the church helpings the people in cooking, and after a couple of days they found him something else to do, every two days he teach, in small groups in the afternoon they reunited in the closest house, where he teach them about everything he could and almost at night with the teenagers about mechanical things and cars.

His secret, he found it endearing being able to see her. It begins gradually, doing what Holt asks him to dilute her coffee every time she goes looking out for it, then he couldn't avoid taking a quick glimpse every time she passed by around the place or just seeing her running away from the attention.

Now, if she crosses in his sight or he hears her laughing his face betrays him, blushing.

Today after his class Max takes his time sitting in front of the house. The view is incredible, the big church rises with a massive mountain at the back covering but not stealing the sunlight from it.

The restoration is slow, another month has passed and now the big wood doors are able to open and close freely and by what David said to him, inside, one of the corners is in the middle of being clear.

“Here.” A chocolate bar appears in front of him, a brown and golden envelope.

Max turns to his left, finding the girl of his thoughts in front of him, giving him the chocolate.

Max shutter but she encourages him by shaking the little ball in front of him.

“Any hard feelings for my shirt.” Y/N said, causing Max giggles. “Or the extra water on my coffee.”

Why he can't speak?

“David said you've been working hard, thanks.” Y/N mentions as she sees the kids going down the hill excited as they speak among each other after Max's classes.

“Oh, I… they're giving me a lot, it's just a little for that much.” Max hits him mentally for what the fuck he just said.

Y/N scoff because she either understands totally but yes she kind of knows what he refers to.

“Well, either way, you're giving them something more than this, that's really nice of you.” Y/N sees around notice her team is making her a sign to go.

They're hungry as hell.

Y/N put her hands on her pockets. “Well, Max take a proper rest tomorrow, go to the festival and have fun, anyone is coming here.”

Max was already invited to the festival of the village; they're about to harvest all the cherries, which years ago was the base of their economy.

“Is the flower thing true?” Max asked just when she was about to walk away.

Y/N giggles, breathing out. “Cheesy as it sounds.”

People of the town told him about the first day of harvest; you cut some cherries and give a cherry blossom to your loved one, a symbol that it will come back to the ground ready to be planted one more time.

Love that always grows.

When she and her brothers were kids, the first flowers were for their parents; as they became older her brothers kept doing it; for her, started to give her chills.

Y/N sees Max's brain working for the way he moves his eyes and presses his lips.

“Have a good night Max.” She waves her hand walking away, an almost imperceptible smirk on her face.

Max only whispers to himself seeing her with her friends. “Bye.”

#f1 #f1 imagine #formula 1 #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 x female reader #max verstappen imagine #cherry chapters

29 notes · View notes