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butterflyyeo · 3 years

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jealous

pairing — han jisung x reader

genre — angst (?)

tw — slightly suggestive (?)

wc — 3035

a/n — yall idk wtf this is im trying my best to get better at writing angsty (???) stuff so im really sorry if this is absolute trash T^T. feedback is appreciated !!

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you hadn't seen your brother, chan, for a long time, six months to be exact and of course you missed him dearly. when he called to tell you that he was coming home for a while you nearly cried of joy, however, the happiness faded when he mentioned that he'd be bringing his band mates, that meant changbin... and han jisung.

it wasn't exactly a secret that you didn't get along with jisung, and you never knew why. he always just irked you a bit, and on purpose too. it was constant bickering between the two of you, fortunately, chan and changbin had learnt to tolerate it. speaking of changbin, you actually quite liked him and he was rather fond of you too. chan knew this, in fact, chan saw all the underlying tension between you and the rest of 3racha. he was thankful that he was your brother, but he didn't have to intervene, he was fully aware that you could handle these things on your own. unless of course you asked for help, and in that case, he would go to war for you.

a sturdy knock hit the door a few times and you ran to the door, unlocking it.

"channie!!" you leaped onto him and hugged him tightly. he dropped his bags down to the floor just so he could hug you back. "i've missed you so much!" you said as you hopped down and picked up both of his bags.

he grinned, "i've missed you too, y/n."

your smile dropped almost instantly as you saw jisung leaning against the doorway, a smirk across his face that just made you want to slap him. faking a smile, you greeted changbin, "hey changbin! good to see you." he gave you a sincere nod and smile before picking up his suitcase. "now chan, shall i put these in the guest room?" you asked, chan was already going through the fridge, looking for food.

"mm." he mumbled. you took it as a yes and heaved his bags to the guest room, dumping them beside the bed. as you turned around to help changbin with his luggage, someone blocked your way.

"you didn't say hello to me?" jisung questioned, though, it sounded more like a statement.

huffing, you responded, "why would i?"

"because you love me," he said as he leaned in close. "and you missed me."

"you must be confused." you shrugged and pushed past him. that was too close for comfort. you thought as you walked out and picked up changbin's last bag.

"hey y/n," chan began, "what's for dinner?"

you sighed, "i'm gonna have to go shopping chan, i don't have enough food for all of you." you went to put your shoes on and a jacket too, since it was getting late and more chilly outside. "who wants to chauffeur me to the grocery store?" you joked.

"anything for you, my love." jisung said teasingly as he held his hand out to you.

"uh, i'd rather not." you swatted his hand away. "c'mon changbin, let's go!" you said while dragging changbin up from the sofa. he groaned, but honestly he didn't mind so much. he was just being a big baby.

the car trip was short and quiet, mainly because changbin was tired from all the travelling they had done to get to your house. plus, their schedule has been so full lately, they were lucky to have this time off.

wandering through isles, you began picking up ingredients and placing them intro a trolley.

"you really missed us?" changbin began, "me and chan of course..." he trailed off but a playful smile tugged at his lips.

"of course i am! jisung on the other hand..." you rolled your eyes, pushing the trolley along.

he chucked, "you really still hate each other? after all these years?"

you huffed, a little too obnoxiously, "yes. i do still hate him. and i'm sure he despises me too. i don't even know what it is... it's just... the way he treats me. he acts like he deserves my friendship, which he doesn't. it's something you earn."

"remind me to never piss you off." changbin laughed as he put a bag of chips in the trolley.

once you had everything you needed you put it through the register, changbin insisted he paid, since you were letting the three of them live with you.

shortly after you arrived home, you began cooking. while he wasn't the best, changbin offered to help as best he could. you actually thought it was really sweet. he passed you utensils, condiments and he even set the table.

meanwhile, chan was fast asleep in the guest room and jisung was showering in the provided ensuite. you turned to changbin and high fived him, "we're all done! i should wake up chan. you can start eating if you want." proud of his efforts, changbin sat down and began to eat.

gently pressing the door open to the guest room, you whispered, "chan? dinner is ready." you walked over to him and was about to softly shake him when jisung walked out of the bathroom, only a towel around his waist. his tousled wet hair dripped little drops of water down his chest and it was rather overwhelming to see him so exposed.

contrary to your thoughts, he couldn't care less, he enjoyed watching the way you panicked and blushed heavily. if this is what it takes. he thought.

"oh! um, jisung. i'm so sorry, i was just coming to tell chan that dinner is ready, i should've knocked or-" you blurted out in a quiet voice, weary of chan waking up.

jisung let out a low chuckle, "it's fine, y/n. i'll wake him up once i've dressed."

"thanks," you said as you went to leave, "wait... no snarky comment?" you puzzled.

he said nothing, just winked at you as you closed the door.

you joined changbin at the dinner table, sitting across from him. "how's the food?" you asked as you took a bite for yourself.

"y/n it's amazing! you're seriously a great cook. man, i wish i was this good." he said as he took a small bite of the spaghetti you had prepared.

at that moment, chan dawdled out the door and jisung closely behind. they joined you at the table and also began eating.

"don't worry about it binnie, i can teach you to cook, years of living on my own without chan seems to have payed off a bit." you joked.

"binnie?" jisung questioned the nickname you had given to changbin, whilst changbin sat there furiously blushing. he tried to hide it by lowering his head but that honestly seemed it give it away more.

"sounds cute." you shrugged, not thinking much of it.

chan cleared his throat, "okay so here's the plan for tomorrow," he began, taking another bite of spaghetti, "changbin and i have to go talk to JYP about an upcoming show we are doing, so we could be gone all day with that. there's lots to plan."

"wait a second, why am i not going? i'm apart of 3racha too." jisung stated.

changbin replied, "did you get the email from him?"

jisung shook his head, "well, no but-"

"then you're not coming." changbin grinned cheekily, knowing this upset jisung.

when everyone had finished with their meal, changbin stood up and collected all the dirty dishes, only to begin washing them in the sink. you quickly tried to stop him, "oh, changbin! don't worry i can do that." you said as you tried to take over, but he refused.

"no. you won't. dinner was great! you've done enough for today, if we are gonna be living here for the next few weeks then i might as well be of some use." he smiled at you before nodding to the tv, signalling for you to relax.

tired as ever, chan come over and kissed your head goodnight before going back to sleep. by now it was nearly 10pm, you had a late dinner but that was because they arrived later than expected.

you sat down on the sofa and began browsing movies. you decided to watch your favourite, even though you've seen it a million times. once he was finished with the dishes, changbin joined you on the sofa to watch the movie, you quickly filled him in on all the little details of the plot.

jisung was still sitting at the dinner table, scrolling through his phone, he was contemplating coming to join the two of you in watching the movie, but decided against it when he saw changbin put his arm around you. rolling his eyes and scoffing a little too loud, jisung stood up and went to the guest room he was sharing with chan. he tried his best not to slam the door but somehow that didn't happen.

"huh, wonder what's up with him?" changbin asked, looking at the door wide eyed. "i'll go check, sorry, i'll be back in a sec." he followed jisung into the guest room, you heard changbin quietly ask if he was okay.

what started as a whispered discussion soon became a hushed argument, you were worried that soon they would start yelling at each other. luckily chan was a deep sleeper, he also slept with earphones in, so you were pretty sure he wouldn't hear any of it.

the minutes passed and their quarreling continued, you debated going in there to try and make some peace but you decided against it, this seemed to be something personal between the two of them. instead, you switched off the tv and the lights, and went got ready for bed. as you were about to close your eyes you heard the jingle of keys and the sound of the door opening and closing. whoever it was, you knew they could take care of themselves, they were both adults and probably just needed some space.

when you woke up, it was around 7am. you quickly threw a hoodie on over your shirt, feeling a bit cold and walked into the living space to see changbin, sleeping softly on the sofa. it only just occurred to you that there wasn't enough beds for all of you in your current living situation.

you gently peeked into chan's room to see him sprawled out, sleeping a deep sleep. you smiled to yourself, knowing that he got all the sleep he deserved. the empty bed in the room didn't go unnoticed however.

it was jisung who left last night. and he didn't seem to be back yet.

slightly worried, you decided to cook up some bacon and eggs for when the boys woke up.

"morning y/n." you turned around to see changbin leaning against the kitchen counter.

you smiled, "morning! sorry if i woke you up, i'm just making some breakfast, you've probably got time to shower if you want to before you eat."

"serious? man, what did we do to deserve you?" changbin said looking at you sincerely.

you laughed lightly, "nothing, now go! and please wake chan up when you get out."

he just chuckled as he walked away and closed the guest room door behind him. you wondered if you should make enough breakfast for jisung, would he be back soon? if he wasn't, he could just re-heat it, you thought.

the last few pieces of bacon finished cooking so you begin buttering the toast, you made a lot knowing that chan has a big appetite and there was a good chance they wouldn't have time to eat today. your train of thought was interrupted once again by changbin.

"anything i can do to help?" he asked, he was dressed quite smartly, but you understood as he was going to console with JYP himself.

"nope! i'm just about done, plus, you wouldn't want to dirty your clothes," you said as you began serving breakfast.

"ah okay, i woke chan up, he wanted to have a shower so he shouldn't be too much longer." he said, "can i?" he asked, pointing to one of the cups of steaming hot coffee you set on the counter.

"of course!" you said. a question burned in the back of your mind and you wondered if you should ask or not. "uh, changbin..." you began.

changbin knew exactly what you were about to say, "he's okay, y/n. he just wanted some space." his eyes stared at the wall blankly. there was more to this than needing space.

"so.. why was he upset then? you guys had a pretty heated argument.."

changbin's eyes met yours, "i'm sorry you had to hear that." he took a sip of coffee, "we just had a bit of a disagreement, it happens all the time... you see, the thing is-"

"good morning to my favourite people!" chan said as he waltzed out of the guest room, also looking rather sharp.

you and changbin smiled at his enthusiasm, "morning!" the two of you chimed back.

"breakfast made? hot coffee? you seriously are the best sister in the world! it's like we're staying at a five star hotel." chan said picking up a mug of coffee.

you laughed, "i'm your only sister."

he shrugged, "still the best," he took a sip and hummed, looking around the room, "hey, where's jisung?"

"i don't know. i heard him leave last night." you said, placing two plates of food at the dinner table.

chan sent a red hot glare at changbin, knowing exactly why jisung would've stormed out. changbin looked away sheepishly.

"okay, well, breakfast is ready! eat up, you guys have a busy day." you said sitting down in front of a plate.

chan and changbin began discussing things for later with JYP, while you just sat their mindlessly eating your breakfast. you still couldn't help but wonder where jisung had went, and why he wasn't back yet.

you had completely zoned out and was just picking at the scraps of your plate when chan spoke, "well that was seriously great y/n! what a good way to start the day."

you smiled at your brother, "ah, it's the least i can do, maybe you could ask JYP if you can dedicate a song to me in return."

the three of you laughed and you began to clear up the plates while the boys finished getting ready. shortly after, they said their goodbyes and closed the front door behind them. although the door muffled his voice, you heard chan say to changbin, "you seriously fought over that again?"

you sighed to yourself, what were you going to do all day? you decided to finish cleaning up and have a shower.

you let the water run until it was warm before stepping in, you had to remember to be mindful because you often got carried away and distracted in the shower and lost track of time.

which is, exactly what happened, before you knew it you had been half an hour. shit, you thought. as you wrapped a towel around your body, you remembered jisung and how you saw a little too much of him after he showered. you blushed furiously just remembering it. that's when you realised that your feelings for changbin were just a deflection of the feelings you have for jisung. you're ridiculous, you thought. he hates you, despises you, enjoys making fun of you. you quickly ruled out the possibility of him ever returning the feeling and finished dressing.

you spent the day multitasking some of your studies while watching movie after movie, trying to be somewhat productive. your stomach suddenly growled and you checked the time, "must be time for lun-" you said aloud, "oh, it's 5pm." you laughed at your silly sense of time and how you had got carried away all day. but you soon frowned, 5pm and jisung still wasn't back?

since the boys weren't home you made yourself a light meal and sat at the dinner table alone, listening to some background music. it was actually quite relaxing. the evening golden sun shone through the window as you finished eating. you quickly began washing up your plate, when you heard the door creak open.

"oh, chan you're home! i just finished eating, but i can make something for you and changbin just give me a min-" but when you turned around to greet them, it wasn't chan or changbin. it was jisung. "jisung."

"are you gonna admit that you missed me this time? or do i have to leave for longer?" he smirked but you just sighed in relief. you hated to confess that you worried you wouldn't hear his stupid comments for a long while.

you spoke quietly, "of course i missed you. i was worried sick."

"oh? worried now?" he toyed.

"yes, worried! i heard you arguing with changbin and then you left!" you exclaimed.

his face turned away at the mention of changbin's name, "well sometimes changbin and i argue, it's normal."

you scoffed, "that's what he said."

"he told you?" jisung asked.

"no, he didn't tell me what you fought about, but it would seem that it isn't the first time because i heard chan scolding him after they left this morning." you admitted.

"they're not back?"

you shook your head, "nope," jisung looked away, "look, i just had dinner but is there anything you want?"

"yeah." he began.

"what would you like?" you asked.

"you." jisung said bluntly, catching you off guard. "and changbin wants you too."

it all made sense now. "oh, i, i see.." you said, quite taken aback. "jisung, it could ruin everything, we'd be playing with fire."

"i don't care, y/n." he said taking a few steps closer.

"but, chan is my brother." you said.

"he's my best friend." jisung countered, coming closer again.

"what about changbin?" you asked.

"he's also my best friend." at this point, jisung was standing face to face with you.

"hang on a second," you took a step back, hitting the counter, "i don't owe you anything." you whispered, pressing a finger to his lips.

he smirked, "but i owe you everything."

#han jisung x reader #han jisung #han #stray kids han #stray kids scenarios #han jisung angst #han angst #stray kids imagines #han jisung fluff #han jisung scenarios

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undertale-data · 3 years

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[Image Description: An Undertale chat box that has “WHY FANS LOVE UNDERTALE” at its center. Next to it are a line chart and an Egg from the Dating Hub on its left, and a CRIME measurer (also from the Dating Hub) on its right. End I.D.]

[Image Description: a pie chart titled, “LEVEL OF LOVE FOR UNDERTALE.” The textbox on the top right reads, “On a scale of 1 to 10, 1 being the least and 10 being the highest, how much do fans enjoy Undertale?” From the top going clockwise, 12 or 0% chose 5 and below; 23 or 1% chose 6; 98, or 4%, chose 7; 325, or 12%, chose 8; 529, or 20%, chose 9; and 1664, or 63%, chose 10. End I.D.]

It’s clear from all of the data analyzed so far that fans who took the time to answer our survey love Undertale. It is unlikely that they would have taken the time to answer so many questions if they had not, and even less likely that they would have come across our survey in the first place. Naturally, it comes as no surprise that 63% of our responders gave their love for Undertale a score of ten out of ten. 95% gave their love for Undertale a score of eight or higher, and only 12 responders responded with five or below, a number so small that their responses had to be lumped together to be visible on the pie chart. Of those, only 3 responders gave their love for Undertale a score of 1, and based on those responders’ other answers, it is likely that they were only intending to troll. We are very fortunate that the vast majority of responders took the survey seriously, enough so that responses like this are barely a blip in the data.

Now, for our final analysis post of the event, we will delve into the reasons that fans love Undertale so dearly.

(Essay and highlights under the cut.)

There have been countless essays on the impact that Undertale has had on people’s lives. I can hardly add more on the subject than what has already been said, but I hope this summary can provide a brief overview of what stood out among the over two thousand answers given in response to this survey. That said, due to the sheer volume of answers, I could not read every single one in depth—however, I did skim all of them, and some that stood out or were representative of several responses have been highlighted below. If you would like to see what every fan who consented to share their response had to say, you may view the full list of responses here. Note that these responses have not been edited in any way. This document may take a long time to load, as it is over 100 pages long.

(Warnings for mentions of suicidal thoughts in the following essay.)

Several responders loved the theme of choices mattering in Undertale. Whether people played the pacifist, merciless, or neutral routes, they enjoyed how the game reacted to their actions. For some, it even made them consider their own morality. One touching response explained the impact that the theme of mercy made on them. “I realized that Mercy isn't something that's given to those who deserve it. Flowey didn't deserve it. I don't deserve it myself. Shoot, we ALL need Mercy in our lives.” Many fans left similar comments about how the themes of Undertale made them better people.

Undertale changed how its fans treat others, and it also changed how fans treat themselves. The theme of staying determined and the messages of hope in the game were a light to a very large portion of fans. I cannot list all of the fans who said that Undertale helped them out of a dark place, or that they would not be alive if not for Undertale. “DETERMINATION became a metaphor for not killing myself at a really rough time in my life and I’ll always cherish that. Undertale isn’t afraid to go to really dark places but at the same time holds on so tight to its hope.”

Undertale brought fans together in unexpected ways. Some said they met friends or significant others through the fandom. “I wouldn't have met my now husband without Undertale,” one fan said. A different fan who is non-native English speaking mentioned that the game and the fan community helped them to learn English.

It would be impossible to discuss Undertale without mentioning the fan community. Whether for good or bad, many responders mentioned the fandom in their responses. Overall the feelings towards the fandom seem positive, though many made references to “toxic” parts of the fandom without specifying which parts they consider toxic. Others rejected the idea of toxicity in fandom. One response said: “[SLAMS FIST ON DESK] I KNOW MOST PEOPLE SAY THE FANDOM IS TOXIC AND CRINGE OR WHATEVER BUT OH MY GOD. The Undertale fandom, both the UTMV and the actual UT fandom, has been so much fun to be a part of. I've met countless friends because of our shared interest in something related to the game! The art people create can be breathtaking and so inspirational, and the fanfics are so so good!! I've seen people write incredible things for this fandom and it's what made me continue writing!”

One thing that makes the Undertale fandom unique is the way it embraces various AUs. Some fans are tired of AU content, but the majority of responses show a love for the creativity behind AUs. “Roll your eyes at the 50th AU Sans all you want, it's encouraging people to step outside the boundaries of fanart and pushing people to make their own ideas! I mean, hell, it was how I gained the confidence to start making my own original content.” The lack of a judgemental atmosphere seems present in the AU community, according to the responses we saw. There is an interesting balance between AU and canon (sometimes referred to as “classic”) content that another responder pointed out: “The fandom helped keep the game alive all these years, with all of its AUs. Although personally, I always enjoyed AUs that kept characters as close to the classic material as possible (dancetale, outertale) I do appreciate the creativity of the fandom. They almost created entirely new stories with new characters of their own! If it weren't for those people, the Undertale fandom would have probably not been as active as it is now. I do feel like we're getting a resurgence of classic content now too! (In 2021)”

Regardless of the many AUs the fandom has created over the years, the original game of Undertale still feels like home for many fans. They wished they could reclaim the feeling of playing the game again for the first time, but even though we can’t reset time in real life, there is still a special feeling for fans each time they play Undertale. One fan said, “Even the best fics I've read can't capture that feeling of nostalgia/almost-"coming home" that comes with hearing the music and talking to the characters.” This feeling is one that can be cherished time and time again. In the words of another responder: “It always feels welcoming like home or like comfort food that I never grow tired of no matter how many times I go to it.” Others pointed out the strength of the found family trope in Undertale, which likely contributes to this feeling of “home” as well.

As mentioned briefly earlier, the music is part of what makes Undertale feel like home for fans. Even when responses focused on other aspects of the game, many would throw in a comment about the soundtrack at the end. One comment focused on the music said “IT'S SO GOOD like I will literally go through the entire thing over and over and not be bored with it. It makes my monkey brain so happy you have no idea.” Like with the game itself, the music has incredible replay value, an amazing feat considering most of the tracks use the same few motifs. “I think what I like the most about Undertale is how the music attaches you to the story,” another responder said. “They're simple melodies that stick with you throughout the whole game, and they can remind you of both good and bad times.”

If the music sticks with fans in their hearts, then the game’s lore sticks with fans in their minds. Even six years after the release of Undertale, fans are still creating new theories and digging up new secrets. The way the game breaks the fourth wall in particular intrigued many fans and has stuck out through all these years. The awareness that the game shows for the RPG genre makes it memorable. The game plays with the player’s expectations and turns them on their heads, all while reminding the player that they’re in a game. There are few other games that do this on such a large scale, so it’s no surprise that fans cite this as one of their favorite things about Undertale.

Lastly, the LGBT+ representation in Undertale has been a huge draw for fans. Especially in 2015, the sheer volume of non-cishet characters was unprecedented, as one fan pointed out: “It's practically unheard of to see so MANY from just one source, especially during its heyday in 2015-16. Hell, you can't even GET the true pacifist ending without helping two gay couples hook up. It's really nice to see all of them being accepted for who they are and not judged for their sexuality or gender, at least in-canon.” The LGBT+ cast including Frisk, Chara, Napstablook, Monster Kid, Mettaton, Alphys, and Undyne each connected with fans in unique ways. It’s clear how important this is from responses such as: “There are canon nonbinary characters 🥺. i have never seen representation of myself before.” “It made me gay and trans so thanks for that.”

Once again I am overwhelmed with just how much there is to say about Undertale. One responder really understood when they compared Undertale to an iceberg, explaining that there are so many layers to the game that there is something for everyone: “everyone can find something to enjoy in the lore/game regardless of what kind of fan they are! Being able to appeal to various types of fans—from simple happy shipper people to deep dive lorediggers—is the mark of the coolest games!” I would have to agree with them.

It’s been six years, and despite everything, it’s still you. Thank you for reading, participating in this survey, and above all, staying determined.

Highlights:

DETERMINATION became a metaphor for not killing myself at a really rough time in my life and I’ll always cherish that. Undertale isn’t afraid to go to really dark places but at the same time holds on so tight to its hope.

I think the coolest thing was having the opportunity to watch the AU community grow from its bare roots. It's nearly insane how big and complex it's gotten, unlike anything I'd ever seen before. Roll your eyes at the 50th AU Sans all you want, it's encouraging people to step outside the boundaries of fanart and pushing people to make their own ideas! I mean, hell, it was how I gained the confidence to start making my own original content.

i love how the lgbt rep is so naturalized... there are just gay people! and its nobodys business!

The music is my go to answer, but what I really really REALLY love is how the minor characters have so much personality to them when you talk to them. They aren't incredibly important to the overall story, but they're all so likeable and diverse that you just can't help but like them immediately!

I think it was the first videogame I have played that broke the fourth wall that much. Of course there has been other videogames that broke it but just for one or two tongue-in-cheek jokes. The guilt of killing mama goat was also something intense as well that I appreciated as an experience and that I didn't think a videogame could cause on someone.

I love how no character can be seen as completely bad! Everyone builds up Asgore as some horrible villain, but he turns out to be a 'fuzzy pushover' who's broken and just wants his family back by the time you meet him. Then you think Flowey's an irredeemable killer who engineered the suffering of the monsters across many timelines, and he is... but he also used to be the kind and beloved Prince Asriel Dreemurr, traumatized by his death and subsequent rebirth, projecting his best friend onto you.

The fact that choices matter in the game. Your first playthrough and getting the golden ending for the first time. I can never replicate those feelings again, wish I could erase my memories and replay the game from the start.

I wouldn't have met my now husband without Undertale.

(Toxic parts of the fandom aside) The community is possibly one of the kindest I've ever met. Cringe culture is completely dead, and I feel like I can be myself. I felt a very close connection to many of the characters, and I loved consuming content about them when I was in a rough patch in my life.

just everything, the whole game has just impacted my life so much. i know it sounds really lame, but when the game first came out, i would purposely put my hands in my pockets and sway slightly, like sans' idle animation. of course i dont do that anymore haha, but undertale still really impacts me to this day, and i wouldnt have it any other way :)

it made me gay and trans so thanks for that

I realized that Mercy isn't something that's given to those who deserve it. Flowey didn't deserve it. I don't deserve it myself. Shoot, we ALL need Mercy in our lives.

The thing I love most about Undertale is no matter how many times I play or watch a playthrough it always makes me genuinely happy. It always feels welcoming like home or like comfort food that I never grow tired of no matter how many times I go to it. Toriel still makes me feel all warm and cozy in her home, the Skelebros always make me laugh, and I still cry on the inside watching Frisk comforting Asriel. And on the flip side the No Mercy run still invokes the negative emotions in me as well. In short Undertale just feels like a second home to me and I always wish I could stay.

The reader inserts are my favorite way to decompress after a hard day

I think Undertale helped me discover my love for 8-bit games, and made me realize how IMPORTANT music is in video games.

the worldbuilding and character design are my favorite parts of the main game apart from the music! I’m also a huge fan of the random AU music- not for like underswap or underfell i like the stuff where someone makes a megalovania for a random au where gru from despicable me replaces sans as the character. i think its funny

Just... the vibe, honestly? Even the best fics I've read can't capture that feeling of nostalgia/almost-"coming home" that comes with hearing the music and talking to the characters.

there are canon nonbinary characters 🥺. i have never seen representation of myself before.

[SLAMS FIST ON DESK] I KNOW MOST PEOPLE SAY THE FANDOM IS TOXIC AND CRINGE OR WHATEVER BUT OH MY GOD. The Undertale fandom, both the UTMV and the actual UT fandom, has been so much fun to be a part of. I've met countless friends because of our shared interest in something related to the game! The art people create can be breathtaking and so inspirational, and the fanfics are so so good!! I've seen people write incredible things for this fandom and it's what made me continue writing!

There's a scene where Frisk (the player) is going towards what is presumably going to be their death. They will fight Asgore and he will use their human soul to break the barrier and free his people. The music, despite the player's impending doom, is... triumphant. You are not the triumphant one here, and yet, the score invites you to experience the monsters' joy and happiness as they tell you the tale of their subjugation. The monsters are going to be free. This is their victory, but they don't hate you or want you to die. They're just... happy. That scene has always struck me very deeply. I feel it represents the best parts of Undertale.

I loved how well thought out the Geno route was. It really made me feel like I was doing something horrible, and the characters were very obviously reacting to dire circumstances.

I dunno? I like Undertale for it's characters, story, music, secrets and many more. I am not good with Headcanons but I also like the neutral endings and how different they can depending on who you spare and kill

I was very bad at english before, i thought i couldn't progress because i was very shy and not confident. But my sibling and i wanted to have the best experience with this game so we wanted to play it in english. It's this game and the fandom which helped me to make huge progress in english !

THE SOUNDTRACK. IT'S SO GOOD like I will literally go through the entire thing over and over and not be bored with it. It makes my monkey brain so happy you have no idea.

to avoid writing an essay i will say one word. Mettaton

It is like Toby specifically made the games to fit the iceberg meme and it's awesome, everyone can find something to enjoy in the lore/game regardless of what kind of fan they are! Being able to appeal to various types of fans - from simple happy shipper people to deep dive lorediggers is the mark of the coolest games!

I love almost everything about Undertale as a game on its own. The music, the art and especially the characters and how they interact. They made me feel at home. Undertale means a huge amount to me. (I even got a tattoo of the castle when you and MK walk together!) The fandom helped keep the game alive all these years, with all of its AUs. Although personally, I always enjoyed AUs that kept characters as close to the classic material as possible (dancetale, outertale) I do appreciate the creativity of the fandom. They almost created entirely new stories with new characters of their own! If it weren't for those people, the Undertake fandom would have probably not been as active as it is now. I do feel like we're getting a resurgence of classic content now too! (In 2021)

the mystery. toby fox refused to give answers to anything and i think thats very sexy of him.

I just feel guilty for liking it so much when I'm in my 30's. But I recently got diagnosed with ASD, so I guess it explains things a bit. Many ppl consider Papyrus to be neurodivergent, and some adult fans are too, so seeing that makes me feel a bit better.

i think about "Despite everything, it's still you" everyday of my life.

I like how it's just as funny as it can be serious. All routes are this way. I laughed as much as I cried when I played the Pacifist route and then once I opened the game again and Flowey was telling me to let them be happy, I immediately turned off the game. I somehow felt bad.

The Found Family Trope

The True Pacifist Ending is just...man. And the fanworks about saving everyone even when the game doesn't let you? MANNNNNN

I think what I like the most about Undertale is how the music attaches you to the story. They're simple melodies that stick with you throughout the whole game, and they can remind you of both good and bad times.

there's honestly a LOT to love about this game, but i think one of my favorite things about it is just how many lgbt+ characters there are??? i can think of alphys, undyne, frisk, chara, mettaton, napstablook, monster kid, asgore, mad mew mew, the dress lion, the royal guards, and arguably even papyrus off of the top of my head, but im sure i'm forgetting a few from just undertale alone (there's even MORE in deltarune)!! it's practically unheard of to see so MANY from just one source, especially during its heyday in 2015-16. hell, you can't even GET the true pacifist ending without helping two gay couples hook up. it's really nice to see all of them being accepted for who they are and not judged for their sexuality or gender, at least in-canon.

[Image description: A wordcloud in the shape of the capitalized word UNDERTALE. The text is white on a black background, and uses the font found in the game. Some of the most visible words are: Game, Love, Music, Life, AU, Store, Friend, and Feel, which represent the most common words in the essays people wrote about their love for the game. End of ID]

#undertale #analysis #results #undertale fandom census

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mochis-interlude · 3 years

Text

wristbound || giyuu

this is just a little thank you for 100 followers. i hope you’ll enjoy + feeback is always appreciated! <3

↠ pairing. giyuu x fem! reader

↠ genre. fluff, angst

↠ warnings. memory loss/amnesia, minor character death, murder, graphic scenes, blood, language, implied sex work (nothing explicit)

↠ words. 11.2k

↠ summary. the little red bracelet you made when the two of you were nothing but kids, it reminded giyuu that he was always tied to your wrist.

not even your sudden disappearance could snap the wristband in two.

"[Name] didn't cause any trouble, did she?" Your brother, Haruto, was out of breath as he took a seat next to two raven-haired women who were your best friend's mother and his sister. The mother laughed, shaking her head as she already knew what happened; Haruto had once again lost sight of you and you ran away to them. Ran away to Giyuu, more specifically.

"Not at all. By now, you should know that we love having [Name] over," she said, her blue eyes setting on the two children playing in the garden amongst flowers and butterflies. The mother's gaze softened with each passing second, heart feeling full and hopeful for her son's future.

Tsutako's eyes followed her mom's line of sight curiously and found her younger brother proudly showing you the butterfly he caught by sheer luck. However, your eyes were glued to Giyuu's face instead of the butterfly. The corners of her mouth tugged upwards as she imagined a future for her younger brother where you were by his side through it all. "They'd make a great couple when they're older, no?"

"Pardon me?!" Voice high-pitched, Haruto choked on his spit and ended up coughing into the sleeves of his haori. You with that boy? Impossible. Just after you were born, he promised father to take care of you, to protect you! What could a boy like Giyuu do besides catching pretty butterflies?

Haruto was about to protest, his overprotective side over you kicking in, but he was left with an open mouth and every word dying on his tongue when your laughter bounced throughout the garden. It was a rare sound he usually didn't hear. The most Haruto would get out of you was a chuckle and a half-hearted smile which you put on like a carefully molded mask.

You were so small and so, so young when your eyes witnessed a monster eating your parents, blood covering the place that used to be such a loving and warm home. Crimson stained the walls and the floor, organs lying about like furniture. Haruto was able to chase the monster into the early sunrise and brought its end.

Haruto never thought you'd remember that event.

Yet there you were, vibrantly laughing with the Tomioka boy until tears would brim your eyes, until you used up all of your energy and fell asleep in Haruto's strong arms. Maybe being with Giyuu was the equivalent of salve for your soul.

Maybe, Tsutako was right. When the two of you grew up, you'd make a fine couple.

"Yeah..they would," he finally agreed.

"Here! I made these for us!" Your small hands revealed two crimson bracelets made of simple thread that you had gotten in town with your big brother. A toothy grin stretched your lips apart, revealing that one of your front teeth was missing; pride and joy was written all over your face.

With wide eyes, Giyuu reached for one of the bracelets, looked at the gift and then back at you. "Why? It's no one's birthday today," the raven-haired kid said with an innocent tilt of his head. It wasn't that Giyuu didn't appreciate your gift, it was quite the opposite! But he also knew that your brother made just enough money to bring food to the table, so he couldn't help but feel guilty that you spent money on a gift.

"So you never forget me, silly!" Your laugh filled the garden rich with various flowers and vegetables growing from the earth. Taking the bracelet from Giyuu's grasp, you carefully tied the simple thread around his wrist until it casually sat against his skin and wouldn't slip off.

Forgetting you sounded ridiculous to Giyuu ㅡ why would he ever forget about his clumsy best friend? He didn't quite understand, and yet, maybe his heart did, because without realizing it, Giyuu tied your own bracelet around your wrist. The knot was far from perfect, but it was enough.

"Besides, you must always remember that I'm never far and always with you, okay?" A blush sat upon your cheeks as you intertwined your pinky finger with Giyuu and brought them up to eye-level, tying him into a promise of a lifetime. Your heart desired nothing more than to spend a life filled with your best friend and your big brother.

"P-promised.." Giyuu's heart fluttered, his face heated up.

But happiness was a sandcastle.

It only took 3 months for the waves to come crashing down and take the lives of not only your brother, but Giyuu's family, as well, leaving the two of you orphaned.

However, just because you were a girl, didn't mean that Urokodaki went any easier on you. How often had you found yourself getting knocked on your back, although all you could do was blink? Incredible, you thought to yourself each and every day, even challenging Giyuu and Sabito to practice your falls and build up strength during the night until your body was bruised, possibly even ached at the mere thought to move any more.

It was a fortunate stroke of luck that Urokodaki found Giyuu and you wandering through a small village in search of shelter, taking the two of you in along with a boy named Sabito. He raised the three of you into fine swordsmen while also making sure that you had enough to eat, a place to sleep and everything that came along with a place called home.

Despite the harsh training, you always had fun and treasured each day you got to spend with the two boys who were like brothers to you. It was the small moments making you laugh and suffer alike; like Urokodaki throwing Giyuu into the river to "become water" or how the old man smacked Sabito's stomach whenever the tension in his stomach wasn't enough for the breathing techniques.

One night before the final selection, the warmth of flames and the smell of soup filled the space just outside of Urokodaki's small home with the three kids gathered around the small fire. It was a starry night filled with an exceptionally rich moon, the view accompanied by the sound of laughter.

"They say you are what you eat but [Name] still isn't soup," Sabito chuckled as you slurped your tenth bowl of soup empty until no drop remained in the pristine bowl. The peach-haired boy was convinced that you had a bottomless pit as a stomach, he was always astonished at the amount you managed to eat in one sitting.

"You say that like I ate a lot," you pouted at Sabito's small poke, but never took it seriously. Shoulders casually shrugged it off while you were basking in the warmth the small fire provided. Although it was far from being cold, the breeze in the mountains was still chilly and liked to nip at your cheeks.

Next to you, Giyuu laughed and the glow of the flames dipped his face in an orange hue, making your heart jump within your ribcage. Painfully, you had come to realize that as you grew up with Giyuu, the boy made your heart flutter in a way which certainly wasn't fair. Perhaps..you did have a crush on your best friend, but you'd never say it out loud.

"[Name], you ate more than Sabito and I combined." Giyuu's laughter died down as he brought his own bowl to his lips and sipped the steaming broth Urokodaki had cooked just for the three of you.

Whenever everyone gathered to have dinner and Sabito would be amazed at your appetite, it reminded Giyuu of all the times you'd come over to his family's place and eat with them. Haruto would scold you for eating too much, Mother would laugh and gladly make you another plate while Giyuu would always give you the veggies he didn't like.

"It's called having a healthy appetite, Giyuu. Your points are invalid," you declared with a dismissive wave of your hand and snickered as you saw your best friend's shoulders slump at your words.

Peaceful moments like these were rare with the training you went through daily and the upcoming final selection made every day a little bit more tense. Of course, you were aware of Sabito's and Giyuu's polished skills and had confidence in your own swordsmanship, but it was a fact that no one knew what would happen in those seven days.

"[Name] isn't wrong about this." Urokodaki put some extra wood into the fire, flames licking at the bork and effectively melting the layer away. The Tengu mask made it impossible to look at Urokodaki's face, but judging by his tone, the former Hashira had to wear a serious expression on his face.

"Let me tell you one thing. Just like humans, demons gain their strength from the humans they consume. The more a demon has eaten, the stronger it is." Everyone listened to Urokodaki's words with perked ears and curious eyes as if they could study the information like a book. "Some demons devoured so many that their bodies are deformed. It ranges from mere horns to multiple body parts and extreme growth spurts."

"If they're stronger, their neck also gets tougher to cut, right?" Sabito still cupped his empty bowl to warm up his hands. He didn't sound nervous at all, if anything, he was nothing but confident in himself which was something you admired. Sabito was like a strong boulder that one could always rely on.

Urokodaki nodded his head. "Yes."

Giyuu saw the way you unconsciously bit your bottom lip, how your nails dug themselves into the ground and fingers occasionally fumbled with a bit of grass. Whenever you started feeling insecure, you'd always bite your lip or the inside of your cheek, a habit of yours which Giyuu had caught on to years ago.

As Giyuu got older, he grew more hesitant at holding your hand in a reassuring way. Although Sabito would never tease him about it, there was something special tickling in his belly whenever he reached for your hand. It made red rush to his cheeks, but the smile you gave him afterwards was worth the embarrassment he felt.

"Thank you," you mouthed, Giyuu exhaled shakily.

You made his heart feel too funny with the tiniest of things.

Footwear left deep prints in the muddy earth, high trees and thick bushes made it hard to see what was next, but you had to push through whatever lurked around the next corner.

After all, this was the second day of the final selection.

It was all about surviving 7 days in a forest filled to the brim with demons who were close to starvation. Kill or be killed, it was.

You were lucky not to have encountered any nasty demon and only had to worry about what you should eat next, but you thought of it as a bad omen. There was no way in hell the three of you could have so much luck and even if that was the case, it felt like those two days, devoid of any fight, took up all the luck you were supposed to have in one lifetime.

"Watch out, it's slippery!" Sabito ran down a small hill and nearly fell, but caught his balance just in time. He swore he saw a squirrel which he could cook later, but the animal sure was quick to run away from being eaten.

You were right behind Sabito, but much more careful than he was and slid down the hill on instinct. It had rained the entire day, so of course, the ground would be slippery, muddy and filled with puddles.

"Ah!"

Looking back, you saw Giyuu sitting on the wet ground and pressing a hand to his forehead. You went back, wanting to see what had gone wrong, but as you got closer, you saw blood severely dripping from his forehead, over his eyelids and down his cheeks. Not even his sword was to be seen anywhere; he possibly lost it just now.

"Giyuu, can you walk?" You offered him your hand which the boy gratefully took, but he couldn't seem to properly pull himself to his feet, his gaze seemed fuzzy, unfocused.

Scanning the area, you saw a small rock with fresh splatters of blood on it. So that was why..

A heavy trauma to the head. No wonder Giyuu was somewhere between unconsciousness and reality.

"Don't worry, we got this." Calmly, you examined the bleeding wound and pushed the uneven fringe out of the way to get a better look at it. Giyuu hissed when your finger brushed over the injury. "Sabito, can you watch out for demons? Just in case."

Sabito pulled his sword out of its sheath and protectively stood in front of Giyuu and you, one arm stretched out to his side to block the view of you patching up his friend. "Got it."

What were you supposed to do without any bandages? You scanned the area in hopes of finding something, anything that could slow down the bleeding, but all you saw was earth, leaves and some bushes. Stupid, to think that you'd magically see a pharmacy in the woods.

Then, your eyes settled on the sleeve of your haori. It took you no longer than a moment to unsheath your sword, cut through the fabric and tightly tie it around Giyuu's forehead who groaned in pain. "I'm sorry," you mumbled and finished the improvised banades up with a tight knot.

You were about to help Giyuu back on his feet, but at once, the ground shook beneath you in rhythmical periods.

"There's something!" Sabito breathed more to himself, but you were able to catch it with your senses suddenly heightened by the incoming rush of adrenaline. Giyuu still applied pressure to his injury, his sight switching from complete nothingness to what was happening around him.

Instantaneously, your eyes widened in horror at the demon that was trudging towards the three of you and giggled as it swallowed another kid that he managed to eat.

He was deformed to the bone, several hands hugged its tall, green body. Eyes, disgustingly big, stared at Sabito, then you and Giyuu before his hands began scratching at his skin in an anxious, excited manner.

"Ohh! Urokodaki is feeding me even more kids than usual this time! I bet the three of you are delicious! I can only imagine the face he'll make when three students won't make it back to him!"

Sabito planted both of his feed into the ground, the tip of his sword pointed at the demon's neck. "[Name], you protect Giyuu. I'll lop off the head." As soon as the words left Sabito's mouth, Giyuu was about to protest but stumbled back into your body, your arms catching him before he could trip, again.

"Be careful." You nodded at Sabito and took a defensive stance right in front of Giyuu, holding the blade right next to your head while your hands were grasping the handle tightly. As blue eyes watched your back, watched his two best friends fight, Giyuu felt as helpless as the night his family got massacred.

All he could do was watch.

Perversely large hands dashed at Sabito who leapt through those which didn't radiate murderous intent and cut off the hands aiming for his body. He jumped on one of the demon's arms, dodging a fist coming his way by ducking low and sliding along the green skin.

You blocked a fist with the help of your sword and got pushed back a few meters before you twisted the handle in your grasp, abruptly slicing through the fist from below. "Are you okay, Giyuu?!"

As much as you wanted to take a look back and check up on him, you absolutely couldn't take your eyes off the battle or else, the demon could get Giyuu or even the both of you.

While you were stepping in puddles of blood, cutting those disgusting hands off and had to focus on not taking a lethal hit, you still worried about Giyuu. It made his heart clench painfully in his chest. If only he knew where his sword was, then he'd force himself to fight alongside Sabito and you!

"Don't worry about me, [Name]!"

You were so busy concentrating on what was happening in front of you that you failed to notice the one hand underneath your feet. Before you could even think about using a breathing technique or leaping up into the air, the hand wrapped itself around your ankle and threw you away like you were nothing but a fly.

"[Name]!" Saito and Giyuu shouted your name in unison, watching in horror as you flew farther away with each second.

You desperately stretched one of your arms out in the desperate hope of being able to grab on to a branch and get back to the fight, but it was wishful thinking.

"I'll come back!" You cried out until your vocal chords protested and nearly gave in. The air in your lungs became needles. "Until then, survive, got it?! You must survive!"

"Whatever you do, you've got to survive!" Hands clinging to the katana you carried with you, you screamed at the top of your lungs one last time. Bit by bit, your friends seemed to become dots. "Survive! Sabito! Giyuu!"

Sabito clenched his jaw, teeth grinding against one another as anger bubbled deep within his heart and threatened to spill like an overflowing sink.

He charged at the demon with a yell and got so very close to the neck, ready to chop it off when his blade suddenly snapped into two.

Giyuu watched in horror as the demon used Sabito's surprised state to his advantage and smashed his friend's head in.

All he could do was watch.

All he could do was run.

Agonizingly, your body collided with the hard ground and filled your mouth with blood, several cracking sounds travelled throughout your body like electricity. As you gasped for air, you nearly choked on your own blood and coughed it out, a crimson puddle lingering underneath you.

You didn't know where exactly you were nor did you know how long it'd take you to get back to your friends, but you had to find a way. No matter how much your body ached, no matter how loudly every fiber of your body screamed at you to stop, you couldn't.

It was through pure will that you managed to bury the tips of your fingers into the dirt and drag yourself to your blade lying a few meters in front of you. Your view was blurry, but you still managed to make out that the Nichirin blade Urokodaki had given you had snapped in half and it had you mentally laughing.

He was going to break your bones, wasn't he?

"Just a little bit.." You croaked out with your hand desperately reaching for the handle of the katana. Just a little bit more, just a few more centimeters and the handle would be back in your broken hand, but just before you could even touch it, your arm limply fell to the ground. As much as you wanted to move, forced yourself to go that one extra step, your body didn't listen.

Gradually, black hugged the corners of your view and the ability to hear slowly faded into nothing. No longer could you feel the ground below you or smell the scent of the trees surrounding you; opaque came to envelope you and drag you to the depths of unconsciousness.

Tears rolled down your cheeks, dampening the earth below you and eventually soaking the collar of the haori you wore. You had promised Urokodaki to come back, you had promised to live a long life, you had promised to stay by Sabito's and Giyuu's side and now, you couldn't even promise to move your finger.

"Giyuu.. Sabito.. Forgive me, but I won't make it back.."

The last thing you saw was the moon reflected in the broken blade and the red bracelet firmly wrapped around your wrist.

Three days had been spent looking for you in hopes of finding you only injured, but still alive. Three days without a clue of where you could be, but Giyuu clung to the slim hope of you lying somewhere in these cursed woods, unconscious but well.

It was that thread of hope that kept his hand glued to the blade, kept his head up and forced his gaze to look ahead.

Feet had run through countless rough patches until blisters hurt Giyuu, but he simply ran through them until his feet got sore and he would be damned if he stopped running at that very moment. After all, persistence and determination would pay off, right? The strong-willed would always be rewarded after going through hell and back.

Nearing a river, Giyuu spotted a broken katana as well as smudges of blood on the ground and immediately slid down the small hill he was on. In his rush, he stumbled over his feet and fell to his knees right next to the blade which he knew was yours.

The thread of hope finally snapped.

Frantically, he scanned the area for any sign of you being alive, but all he found was the dried puddle of blood and the snapped Nichirin blade Urokodaki had given you just before heading off for this damned final selection.

With shaking fingers, Giyuu picked up the handle of the sword, hot tears streaming down his face. "[Name]..?" His voice was fragile, on the verge of breaking with every second spent in deafening silence. Giyuu couldn't find it in him to get up, his knees felt like broken mirrors which would stab into his flesh and force him to kneel, regardless of what he desperately wanted to do.

"Please, this isn't funny!" The raven-haired boy called out and tears began blurring his vision, sniffles and choked back sobs rocked his body. "[Name]!" Giyuu hugged the handle of your katana to his chest as he curled up into himself and sobbed into the new day that had just begun.

Why did the universe take away every person he loved so dearly?

First, it was his family, then Sabito and you that got ripped from his grasp, lives he treasured more than anything else, people who he would've died for.

"[Name].. You promised to come back.." The boy murmured to no one and let his eyes travel to the wristband you had made so many years ago. It was physical proof that you were always with him and never far, that he would never forget you and that your lives were intertwined like the sun and the moon.

"Give me [Name] back.."

It was at this moment that a Demon Hunter of higher rank called out to a whimpering Giyuu and brought him back to where the final selection started, a place filled with beautifully blooming wisteria.

Everyone came back.

Everyone except for you and Sabito.

How was Giyuu supposed to face Urokodaki after this?

Lead flowed through every single vein as Giyuu dragged himself back to Urokodaki's home, body heavy with the strain of surviving for 7 days straight, but compared to the gilt gnawing away at his heart, it was bearable.

If only he hadn't gotten injured, then maybe Sabito would still be alive, standing right next to him with an equally aching body but still smiling through the pain because they would've made it.

If only Giyuu had gotten to the river a bit earlier, you'd be swooning over Urokodaki's food and excitedly tell the elder man about all the achievements and experiences you gained. You, too, would be alive and smiling.

The young boy stopped dead in his tracks as his blue eyes spotted Urokodaki chopping up some wood with an axe which the former Hashira dropped when his gaze fell upon Giyuu.

Sadness lingered in Urokodaki's nose and was quick to mix with relief of still being alive, yet Giyuu reeked of regret, grief and sorrow. He couldn't blame the young boy. Urokodaki knew how attached Giyuu was to Sabito and you. The three of you would always train together, share food among one another like you were siblings and cut worries in half simply by being present.

Giyuu was desperately trying to bite back new sobs and tears, since Sabito would be the one to say that a man should suffer in silence. On the other hand, there was you who looked so upset when he once tried to hide an injury from you.

"Stop acting tough." You had once said.

The entire sky came crashing down on Giyuu as he felt his teacher's arms wrapping around him to welcome him home, to express gratefulness that he made it back.

"Sabito and [Name]!" Giyuu could no longer hold his tears at bay, they freely rolled down his cheek like waves crashed into the shore. It was too much and yet not enough. "Urokodaki-san! They.. They..!" His voice broke a little more with each word that Giyuu tried to force out of his throat, but the lump of sorrow cut through his vocal chords.

"I'm glad you're back," was all Urokodaki managed to say and he hoped it'd take a bit of weight off the young boy's shoulders. He feared that if he tried to speak any more, he would cry more than he already was, as well. During the time as a teacher, Urokodaki had lost so many of his students who grew on him ㅡ Sabito, Giyuu and you were no exception.

Sadness poked around deeply in his heart, but it was Urokodaki's duty to make sure that his student wouldn't be overcome by his current despair. He knew Giyuu would be able to overcome his sorrow and grow into a good person.

But first, time needed to heal the wound which was still bleeding so heavily.

Giyuu rubbed his eyes dry with the sleeve of his haori, took off the small bag he carried on his back and showed Urokodaki the broken blade which had belonged to you. "Do you.. Do you think it can be fixed?"

Urokodaki took the two parts into his hands and was surprised at how jaded the blade was. It didn't even cut his finger like it was supposed to and the color had disappeared from the sword like it had never been wielded by anyone in the first place. "That can be arranged. I'll ask Haganezuka."

Two weeks passed when Haganezuka arrived with two swords in his hands and nearly lost his mind when Giyuu said that he wasn't a dual wielder and only needed one blade.

"You little..! What do you mean you can't wield both?! It'd be disgraceful not to wield both Nichirin blades!" Haganezuka screeched loud enough for his voice to echo through every corner of Mount Sagiri. It took so long to make the broken sword look like it had never been broken and this brat didn't even think about testing it out!

Giyuu never pulled the blade out of the sheath as you were the one who should do it and witness the change of colors with your own eyes. "I'm sorry." It wasn't necessary to let the swords smith in on the details when he was a stranger. A weird stranger, at that.

"Sorry doesn't cut it!"

Despite the strange encounter with Haganezuka who was oddly dedicated to his craft, as Giyuu would put it, the sword was always held close to his heart. It was a reminder of the life Sabito and you gifted him, that he should work harder to be able to protect those around him.

When Giyuu climbed through the ranks and was able to afford his own estate, the first thing he had hung up was the sword you fought with.

It was 8 years later when bare feet danced on the wooden floor like water flowed through the river. No unnecessary steps, elegance connected every single move like stars made up beautiful constellations which left people in awe each and every time.

Several women watched with parted lips and sparkling eyes as this person was a constellation herself, someone they could learn and profit from if they watched closely enough. But they knew that this level of accurate and controlled movements required not only effort, but talent as well.

When feet ceased to float and the music humming in the background died down, one woman in particular ran up to the young dancer, manicured nails squishing the full cheeks together. "Isn't she amazing?" Mizu nearly squeaked with pride and reddened cheeks while receiving agreeing nods from the other women.

Mizu was an oiran living in Yoshiwara, a red light district. She was rather beautiful with her opaque hair kept into a bun and held together by golden hairpins, her lips painted crimson and fair skin, although most of her pale skin was thanks to the help of make-up.

"[Name] really is amazing," one of the women said smiling, her palms on her lap as she agreed with Mizu.

Such praise was often thrown your way only because Mizu was in the room. No one dared to openly point out your mistakes and actively help you improve your skills, so you had no choice but to ask the women yourself when Mizu was out of hearing-range.

This issue wasn't the only thing keeping everyone on the edge of their seat.

Whenever a severe mistake happened, that woman was sure to disappear within the next night. Stomping could clearly be heard, you swore the mere sound gave off a murderous intent so intense that it left you shaking underneath the security of your blankets.

When asking if one of your fellow workers could also sense the blood lust every once in a while, they said no. Apparently, they couldn't feel the immense anger creeping throughout the house like you could which left you confused. However, the fact that your senses were so sharp and sensitive to blood lust made you wonder if you had lived a different life before you woke up in Yoshiwara.

Actually, you were sure that you had lived differently before finding yourself in Yoshiwara, but your memories were erased. Proof of your previous lifestyle were your calloused palms, the small scars on them which the other women always pitied you for as it apparently wasn't fit for a lady to have rough palms.

Then there was this wristband which you wore for a reason long forgotten.

All you could remember was your name when you one day woke up on a tatami mat underneath a safe roof with several women in the room. You couldn't answer a single question regarding your past, the years of your life suddenly drowned in black as you tried your best to remember what happened, what caused the pain in your body, but it was no good.

"Thank you for your kind words. If you'd excuse me." As you turned around to leave for the bathrooms, you felt Mizu's eyes on your back and you knew that she had nothing but love swimming in her dark eyes, and yet, you sensed something much deeper, so much darker lurking within them that a shiver rolled down your spine.

One woman responsible for today's cleaning stood next to the highly-respected oiran. "Wherever you picked [Name] up from, it's a gift you found her. She might as well take your place someday, Mizu-san."

A gift you were indeed, but the way you danced bugged Mizu. It reminded her of the fighting techniques of Demon Slayers. Filthy. "Yeah. Who knows what might've happened to her if it was someone else that found her.." Mizu brought the sleeve of her kimono up to her lips, hiding the lower part of her face and tilted her head to the side as she watched you disappear behind shoji doors, briefly remembering where she had found you nearly a decade ago.

"Oh my, what a poor thing." Mizu knelt down to where you laid on the ground, your breathing was shallow and your hand outstretched as if reaching out to the sword in front of you. Manicured nails pushed your bangs out of your face and traced the bruises along your cheek and neck, feeling that your jaw was, indeed, broken.

"You'd look beautiful without all these ugly stains," she mused while twisting a strand of your dirtied hair around her index finger, crimson red lips frowned at the miserable state you were in. So far gone, you couldn't even hear her voice, feel her touch.

Reaching behind her head, Mizu took two hairpins out of her hair and styled your hair into a bun, the hairpins keeping the look somewhat together. You reminded her of the daughter she once had before the small child suddenly died. Mizu desired nothing more than to have her daughter back and you were the perfect fit.

"You'd make a beautiful oiran, one day. Maybe I should make you my daughter." Mizu smiled into the night at the thought of having a daughter, such a stunning one, too. With her, you'd be better off than with those filthy slayers if the sword in front of you was anything to go by. She could give you all the riches you desired, all the kimonos, money, men and women you could ever want.

Those Demon Hunters could only offer you death.

"From today on, you'll be my lovely daughter," Mizu cheered and poked at your cheek to maybe gain a reaction, but all she heard was an incoherent mumble of names she had never heard of. Unimportant, these people no longer mattered.

Carefully, Mizu picked you up with a smile and disappeared into the night.

The water was pleasantly warm against your skin as you washed the heavy make-up off your face, several colors went down the drain and no longer stuck in place like a mask. Luckily, you didn't have to show your face to any outsider that night, or else the amount of make-up would suffocate you.

A sigh escaped through your lips when your eyes landed on that red wristband, the threads wet and soaked with water, but still perfectly intact. You didn't know why, but your heart always ached a little whenever you thought about its origin and the possible memories connected to this little item.

Maybe someone important gave it to you?

Maybe that someone was looking for you and could help you regain your memories!

Ah, what were you thinking? Stuff like this only existed in romantic novels. 8 years had passed and no one had ever looked for you, you were certain of that. No had ever asked around for you, no one had ever put up a picture of your face, no one had cared enough.

Whenever you'd ask Mizu about where she found you and what you did before joining the house she lived in, she brushed you off, saying that it was time for your Japanese class, time to practice calligraphy or dancing, when in reality she only wanted you to be distracted and busy.

"Maybe I should give up and just live with it..," you mumbled into the towel as you dried your face. At least, you would no longer anger Mizu or make the other women nervous when asking anything regarding your past.

Having made up your mind, you trudged back into your empty room. No matter how many paintings you had hung up, no matter how many clothes filled your wardrobe and no matter how much jewelry Mizu made you wear on your hands and neck, it was empty.

You were lucky to live, but were you really alive or simply a shell of who you used to be?

After countlessly tossing and turning, your body finally found some rest and dragged you into a deep slumber.

Streets filled with people were never one of Giyuu's favorites. He preferred executing his job in the mountains where he wouldn't have to hide his sword from the police and didn't have the stress of potentially having to protect a large number of people if a demon was to show up.

One good thing about cities was the food. The steaming bowl of ramen warmed Giyuu up from within as the chilly evening breeze nipped at his cheeks, tinting the flesh a faint shade of red.

"It's almost unbelievable that a demon is supposed to be here. Right, Tomioka-san?" Shinobu sat next to Giyuu and enjoyed her own portion of food. Just behind her back, people chattered away and children played tag with each other, from somewhere further away, she could even make out the faint strumming of an instrument.

Apparently, a demon was hiding somewhere in Yoshiwara. Every few months, women, prostitutes, to be more specific, suddenly disappeared and had never been seen again. Of course, the rumor of those women losing her footing had spread, but this was as waterproof as paper.

Those women had never shown signs of wanting to run away with a man. Love letters were never found nor did they suddenly receive a good amount of money or saw someone especially frequently.

"Demons can hide anywhere." Giyuu's ears picked up how some men asked for some lady's services and briefly, the thought of a demon hiding in a brothel crossed his mind. However, he had never heard of a demon seeking refuge in such business since those places were too crowded to commit a proper murder.

"You're not wrong about this." Shinobu sat back in her seat and put her chopsticks on her empty plate before something caught her attention. What was this red bracelet around Giyuu's wrist? Had it always been there or did he get it recently?

A teasing smile tugged the corners of her lips upwards as she rested her chin on her palm, an index finger pointing at Giyuu's wrist. "Tomioka-san, did you get that wristband from someone special? I didn't know you were the type to be so romantic!" She chirped.

Blue irises gazed at the red threads laced into one thick wristband which was usually hidden underneath the sleeve of his uniform or haori, so no one really ever saw it. "It's nothing like that." Despite his nonchalant words, Giyuu couldn't help the small smile tugging at his lips.

"Eh?! Are you smiling?!" Shinobu could hardly believe her eyes and felt a shiver run down her spine. This was..scary.

"..We're here to look for a demon, aren't we?"

Attentively, you sat close to a river, eyes wide and scanning the area for a familiar mop of black hair tied into a low ponytail. From afar, you could hear an old man giving someone the instruction to become one with the water in order to master the breathing techniques.

Just a moment later, a yell echoed through the mountains followed by a noisy splash and the yell got cut off.

"___-san really threw him into the river, huh," you chuckled as you remembered how you nearly drowned the first time the elderly man tossed you into the river like a rubber duck. Now it was the boy's turn.

Minutes of silence filled the space around you, only the water flowing in front of you filled the tranquil space and then, several gasps shattered the peaceful atmosphere.

The boy you had to look out for coughed up water as he dragged himself out of the river, his body soaked to the bone and what was that on his hand? Blood? He possibly cut himself on a stone underwater.

Leaping up from your seated position and jogging over to your friend, you gave his back a few firm smacks until he breathed normally again. "I feel like ____-san really wants to kill us," the boy looked up at you, but..you couldn't see his face. It was black.

"Speaking of dying. What was that on your hand?" you spoke and tried to get a look at the boy's hand, but he quickly hid his hands behind his back, pressing the back of his hands against his lower back. "___, show me!" You insisted and eventually, your friend showed you the cut on the back of his hand.

The cut wasn't deep, but it still bled profusely down his wrist. Clicking your tongue, you reached into your pocket and revealed simple bandages which you always kept with you in case you got injured. "Why didn't you tell me you were hurt?" The boy saw the upset look on your face, brows furrowed and your eyes scolding him.

Wasn't it his friend that said that a man should bear his pain in silence?

"I'm sorry, [Name]," he avoided your gaze, focusing on the bracelet you had once made for him, instead. It was better than having to bear the disappointment in your eyes.

"Stop acting tough." You tied the bandage around the boy's hand a bit too tight, making him flinch at the pain shooting through his hand. It was unusual for you to be so rough. "I'll always find out if you're hurt."

In a cold sweat, gasping for air, you suddenly sat straight in bed. Your heart pounded against your ribcage, your sleepwear was drenched in sweat at your neck and back, the fabric clung to you like a second skin. Putting a hand on your chest, you tried your best to control your breathing, but the more you tried, the more you could feel a headache stinging in the back of your head.

Whatever you just saw, it was a mere dream, right? Yet, one could usually hear names and see the faces of the people appearing in a dream, but whenever names fell, they were muted. Whenever you saw a face, it was covered in black.

They were nameless, faceless people.

Perhaps, this was a memory?

"Crap," you hissed as the stinging got to your eyes like a migraine and roughly pushed the blanket off your body as you got up to maybe talk about it with Mizu or someone else. Yes, you promised not to bother anyone with your dreams or past, but this left your hands and mind shaking.

Carefully, as to not make any noise, your bare feet padded along the wooden hallways, every shoji door was shut and no light was on, indicating that all of the women were busy with men downstairs. What a pain, you thought. Keeping married and single men pleased at night was something which never appealed to you, even though Mizu had raised you to possess the needed skills.

Lost in thought, you nearly missed how the light of several candles lit up a single room, the shoji door wasn't even fully closed. You finally found someone!

"I'm sorry for bothering you this late at night, but I was wondering ifㅡ"

You were greeted by the sight of blood being smeared across the wall and pooling right at your feet, bones sticking out from the corpse of the woman who had praised you earlier. Your head screamed at you to run, but your body didn't listen. It was itching to reach for something that wasn't strapped to your hip.

"It's a shame you had to see me like this, [Name]." Opaque hair was loose, red lipstick got replaced by the dead woman's blood which was also dripping down claws.

Mizu tossed the corpse away from her and faced you, slowly approaching you with cold steps. Her pupils were no longer round but resembled that of a cat. Smirking, she watched as your legs trembled in fear when she delicately cupped your face in her hand. "I promised myself to never eat you unless you saw me killing someone. But maybe it's exactly because you are my daughter that you'll be extra nutritious."

Horns made of bones stuck out from Mizu's head, resembling the ears of a bunny. At that very moment, you heard a voice inside your head.

"Some demons devoured so many that their bodies are deformed. It ranges from mere horns to multiple body parts and extreme growth spurts."

"Demon!" You gasped, pushed Mizu away from you with all the strength you had in your arms and made a run for it. Splinters dug into the soles of your feet, but you didn't care. What mattered was your survival, your life, the life Haruto and Tsutako left behind for you!

Wait, Haruto and Tsutako..? Who..?

You stopped dead in your tracks, the sound of Mizu's traditional heels rhythmically clicking against the floor haunted you.

Fleeing downstairs was no option. Innocent lives could easily be taken by Mizu and there was no way you could protect all of them when you couldn't even properly protect yourself. Panic-stricken, your eyes found nothing but paintings decorating the walls, a mere fan and a..

A katana!

Grabbing the katana from the wall, you held it with both hands as tightly as you could, the tip pointing at Mizu's neck.

"You're hilarious, [Name]! Don't tell me you're remembering now when it's too late." Mizu pushed some of her hair behind her shoulder as she laughed at your poor attempt to take her down. However, it seemed like your body was beginning to remember whatever a fragile human once taught you and it wasn't like you had completely forgotten how to move, either.

A laugh shook the demon's shoulders as she stretched her palm out and let a bone grow from her skin. Mizu pointed the sharp bone towards you, shooting it in your direction with the expectation to heavily injure you and kill you in the end.

What she didn't expect was the way you vertically cut through the bone, letting drop to the ground uselessly. Your jaw was clenched, eyes wide open with sweat trickling down your forehead and the katana in your hand like it had always belonged there.

"I don't know what you're saying, but I know that I can't let you live!" Zooming right in Mizu's face, you aimed for her stomach to weaken her, but she was faster. Grabbing your head, she effectively put you off-balance and rammed another bone into your side as if she saw no daughter in you.

"You've always had a funny side to you, but right now, you're looking like a jester. You, killing me? Not even you are that dumb." Mizu wore an unimpressed expression as you fell to your knees and coughed up blood. Hastily, you ripped a good amount of fabric from your yukata and tightly wrapped it around your waist to slow down the bleeding.

The demon never stopped you. Sooner or later, you'd faint and die from blood loss. This was nothing but a fool's attempt to desperately prolong their end.

"That katana can't kill me. As a former Demon Slayer, you should know that only a Slayer's blade and sunlight can kill a demon." A swift kick to your face had blood dripping down your nose, but your palm wrapped itself around Mizu's ankle tight enough to make your arm's veins pop, tight enough to prevent her, a demon, from moving.

"Breathing Techniques make it possible for a human to gain demonic strength themselves. But unlike demons, a human's stamina is limited."

Within a moment, Mizu's ankle was in your hand, her blood flowing down your forearm as you tossed the cut off limb away. Immediately, you pulled her into a close-range fight, but the several bones beginning to stick out from her body pushed you further away with each step you took. The sharp bones left cuts on not only your face, but your arms and legs as well.

"I don't care if it can't kill you! I refuse to go down without a fight! I'll simply keep you busy until the sun rises!"

Searching for that demon in Yoshiwara was a lost cause.

No one had any suspicions or those people were just too scared to talk, fearing that they might mysteriously disappear, as well. The tension in Yoshiwara spread far and wide, yet there wasn't even the trace of a demon to be found.

"We can't talk. Otherwise, we'll disappear, as well."

"Those women are said to have lost their footing, but.. No, it doesn't matter."

"..Whatever are you talking about?"

Excuses upon excuses. But Giyuu could hardly interrogate simple passengers and ask them about the existence of a being which they were unaware of or didn't believe in.

Frustrated, he shut the shoji door of his home and sighed.

Suddenly, a shrill clink bounced off the plain walls of Giyuu's home and as he raised his gaze, he saw the Nichirin sword ㅡ which was supposed to be yours if you had survived ㅡ on the floor, the steel shone in the moonlight peeking through the windows of his home.

His heart felt heavy as he wondered what color your katana would have become, how you would've wielded it, how bright your smile would've been if you had had the chance to receive it.

Giyuu picked the colorless weapon up, wanted to put it back on its place at the wall when suddenly his kasugai crow landed on the window sill, cawing so loudly that it made his ears ring.

"[Name] who was assumed to have died in the final selection 8 years ago, needs backup fighting a demon!" The old crow impatiently bounced around, wings already spread and ready to take off. "Hurry to Yoshiwara! Hurry, hurry! "

"[Name]..?" Gradually, Giyuu's usually calm gaze widened and filled with infinite questions while he was wordlessly staring at your sword. Why were you alive and how in the world did you survive? Why did you never come back? What held you back?

With a flick of his wrist, he hid the plain Nichirin blade in the sleeve of his mismatched haori and was out of his home faster than the crow could perceive.

The Hashira couldn't be late. He couldn't be late, again.

This time, he'd be the one to protect you.

"Get out of here!" You cried to the people who had been very obviously enjoying themselves with alcohol, food and women until Mizu had kicked you through the floor which was also the ceiling of the floor below.

No one seemed to fully realize what happened, reality only kicked in slowly when they took note of your battered form and Mizu coming down the stairs as elegantly as ever, but the blood on her and the aura she radiated created nothing but fear.

All of a sudden, they screamed and ran, talking about a monster possessing their beloved lady who was attempting to kill one of their own.

Making sure that everyone got out safely was a mistake. You didn't even realize Mizu leaving her spot on the stairs as she was suddenly right in front of you, way too close to be considered a safe distance. Crap, there was no way you'd get out of this unscathed.

The bone sticking out from Mizu's palm aimed for your right eye, ready to pierce through your skull and put an end to the prosperous life you could lead thanks to the demonic woman. In an act of despair, you swung your katana vertically in an attempt to cut off her arm, but Mizu just smirked as the blade got stuck, not even budging a centimeter, anymore.

This was it. This attack would be your downfall, you thought.

"Water Breathing. Second form: Water Wheel."

You stumbled backwards, falling on your knees and all your eyes could catch was Mizu's arm suddenly dropping to the ground along with the katana stuck in her flesh. Blood stained the carpet an ugly red, a loud hiss came from Mizu's direction, her pupils shaking and mouth unusually quiet.

"A..H-Hashira..?" Claws digged into the flesh of her palm bit by bit, her fist shook and goosebumps were scattered across her skin. Just the mere aura of that Demon Slayer terrified her; he was way too calm and yet she could feel racing anger bubbling underneath the surface. No, she couldn't let a mere human intimidate her. What ridiculous excuse of a demon would get intimidated by a man wielding a sword?

Hashira..?

Looking up, you saw the broad back of a man wearing a mismatched haori but what stood out to you was the red wristband he wore. It looked like the one around your wrist but could it be the same? What were the odds of two strangers wearing the same red bracelet? Impossible.

A sudden sting in your head interrupted your running mind.

Fingers tangled themselves into your hair, pulling at the roots.

"Stop acting tough." You tied the bandage around Giyuu's hand a bit too tight, making the boy flinch at the pain shooting through his hand. It was unusual for you to be so rough. "I'll always find out if you're hurt."

Panting, you closed your eyes shut until it hurt. Why did you feel like you knew the man in front of you?

..Giyuu!" You finally yelled the man's name out like he was the answer to everything you had been looking for, like he was the missing piece to the puzzle of your life. Unknowingly, tears freely flowed from your eyes, making the cuts on your face sting and burn.

A quick move of his wrist was enough to flick Mizu's blood off his sword. "Don't you dare touch her!" Giyuu wasn't one to lose his calm demeanor often, but what he absolutely couldn't stand was the ones he cared for getting hurt, bruised, made to suffer.

You wiped the blood trickling from your mouth away with the back of your hand, lips tugging themselves upwards as you pushed yourself up to your feet once more and stood next to Giyuu. "I'll fight with you. This is a personal matter."

Giyuu was about to protest, tell you to leave this place, but the sharp shimmer cutting through your eyes immediately took down every word that was on his tongue. Never had you backed down from a fight, never had you let anything break you, never had you ever given up.

Wordlessly, he let the katana he hid in the sleeve of the haori, slide into his palm and handed it to you. As soon as your fingers were wrapped around the handle, the blade turned into a clear baby blue, several shades lighter than Giyuu's Nichirin blade.

"I'll handle the bones. You go for the head."

Giyuu dashed ahead while you cut your way through the maze of bones sticking out from wherever Mizu desired, her attacks got rougher as if she was suddenly frightened. Good. "You brat! Do you really think one more person would be enough to claim my head?!" Mizu stomped her foot once.

That stomping.. You were familiar with it.

It'd occur once every few months before a woman would go missing without a trace. This action always frightened you as the murderous intent in it was so overwhelming that unconsciously, tears would brim your eyes.

Quickly, you grabbed the back of Giyuu's haori and slid to the side with him before several rib-shaped bones dashed up from the ground, their sharp tips shining underneath the chandelier. If you hadn't been so familiar with Mizu's blood lust, you were sure you would've been pierced pork by now.

Thanks to the sliding, you had gotten close enough to Mizu, giving you the perfect opportunity to chop off her head before she could cause any more pain and damage. "Go!" You cried out loud enough for your voice to crack and swung your blade at Mizu's face to slice her horizontally, the demon stopping your blade with her bare hands.

"Water Breathing. First form: Water Surface Slash."

Giyuu had gotten behind Mizu and let his katana cut through the flesh of her neck, the head of the oiran sliding off her shoulders and her body collapsing to the ground. "Impossible!" She screeched in nothing but anger and disappointment at you.

"You ungrateful bitch! I saved and raised you and this is how you repay the favor?! How dare youㅡ!" Tears streamed down her cheeks while you were looking at her with a drained expression. Bruises and cuts stained your skin, not to mention the stab wound in your waist which was still bleeding. Bangs hid your eyes from her view, the smell of ash was strong in your nose.

"I'm very thankful that you raised me, gave me food and a roof above my head. I will never forget that. But making humans suffer by letting them die a painful death, eating them without a shred of guilt in your guts.." The grip on the katana's handle tightened in anger, sadness and grief as you remembered your brother, mother, Tsutako. All those people who were so brave and kind and dead. "Savior, Mother, whatever you are. I absolutely won't forgive you for this!"

"Do you think that matters?! You're nothing but a whore I raised! You, too, won't go to heaven and I'll wait for you in hell!" Before Mizu could spit any more words, her head and body dissolved into nothing, not even the ashes remained.

Slowly, you turned around to face Giyuu, a peaceful smile lingered on your lips as you stumbled towards the one your heart had been missing for longer than you could think. Strength left your hand and the katana Giyuu had tossed you earlier fell to the ground. "Giyuu.. I'm so happy you survived.." You tripped over your own two feet, about to fall, but it was okay.

Giyuu caught you.

"[Name], I.." He spoke, but soon noticed that you had fallen unconscious with your cheek pressed up against his chest, eyes closed and breathing so calmly in his strong arms. Serenity was written all over your face, despite the dirt, cuts, blood and pain you went through. You were at peace with Giyuu around just like when you two were children.

His stoic mask shattered as he pressed your unconscious body flush to his and buried a hand in your hair, his knees giving in and meeting the floor with a dull thud. "I'm so sorry I didn't find you earlier." Giyuu buried his face in your neck as he softly cried against your skin, a wave of immense relief hitting him at once.

At least, you weren't dead like the Hashira believed for nearly 10 years.

"I swear I'll make sure to protect you."

The sun was warm on your skin, gentle eyes focused on a blue butterfly which had entered through the open window and rested on your index finger. Its small legs tickled you ever so slightly and you struggled to hold in a giggle at the feeling.

After having fallen unconscious for a day or two, you woke up at the Butterfly Estate where three very sweet girls awaited you coming back to reality; you learned that their names were Sumi, Kiyo and Naho. They brought you everything you needed and frequently kept you company.

With your eyes opening once more, you also regained your memories. You remembered everything from the day you lost your parents, to the training with Urokodaki, Sabito and Giyuu, to the point you had desperately tried to reach your katana and passed out. Although a little bit of regret lingered at your soul, you couldn't find it in you to be upset with yourself.

Life continuously knitted several paths for one to take, but it was up to several strings of fortunate and unfortunate events alike which path they'd lead one on.

Anyone could say you were unlucky to have lost your memories and had to part ways with the ones you loved the most. But if you thought about it, you were very lucky. So very lucky that Mizu had taken you in, that she fought you and that a string of fate decided to intertwine Giyuu's and your path once more.

The butterfly on your finger flew away as the shoji door slid open and revealed no one else but Shinobu who had watched over your physical and mental state after the confrontation with Mizu. The Insect Hashira was incredibly kind and you felt like you developed some kind of friendship with her.

As she sat down on your bed to give you the last bit of medicine you had to swallow, you couldn't help but notice her eyes lingering on your wristband.

"How come you like Tomioka-san?"

You nearly choked on the pills, heat warmed up your cheeks and the tips of your ears while you stumbled over your words like a child tripped over rocks. "I-I what?! It's nothing like t-that, Shinobu!" Comically, you shook your head and threw your arms around as if that would convince the dark-haired woman.

"Oh? But Tomioka-san has the exact same wristband and when I asked him about it, he smiled. Do you know how scary that was?"

You couldn't bite back the laugh that ripped through you at Shinobu's words. The fact that Giyuu seemed to smile so rarely that it was considered creepy when he did it, was both ridiculous and funny to you.

On the other side of the shoji door, Giyuu wondered what could possibly make you laugh so much. He didn't ponder too much on it since this was a sound he hadn't heard in so long and was actually quite fond of. Not that the Water Hashira would ever say that out loud.

As Giyuu stepped inside, he was immediately greeted by your warm smile and despite the bandaids on your face and bandages around your arms, he was taken aback at how pretty you were. Even after 8 years, you still made his heart feel a certain, funny way with little to no effort at all.

"I guess I should leave the two of you alone. Although I can't deny that I'm surprised you like Tomioka-san enough to willingly be alone with him."

"I..am not disliked by people."

"That's all you have to say?" Shinobu wondered out loud and left the room, the shoji door closing behind her with a dull thud bouncing off the warmly-colored walls.

As Giyuu sat with you on the bed, you couldn't help but notice that his facial features got much sharper over the years, his demeanor became stoic, but you were quick to figure out that Giyuu hadn't grown jaded. Those he cared about, he would show his emotions to.

"Giyuu, Iㅡ"

Whatever you wanted to say got blown away as you suddenly found yourself in Giyuu's arms, your chin resting in his broad shoulder while his hands grasped at your clothes as if you were to disappear if he held you any lighter. "All this time, I thought you were dead."

Wrapping your arms around the tall Hashira, you easily melted into the heartfelt hug and felt relief as well as happiness prick at your eyes. You couldn't cry now. "I'm right here, Giyuu. I told you I'd never be far, remember?" Each syllable was a bit shakier than the previous one, but it made the feelings in your heart only grow firmer and deeper.

Affectionately, you wrapped your pinky around Giyuu's and brought the two intertwined fingers up to eye level while resting your forehead on his own. You basked in the closeness with the one you'd been aching to meet, swam in his calm aura and felt your heart skip several beats as if it had fallen.

A lump found home in Giyuu's throat and effectively cut off any word he could dream of saying. He wasn't used to anyone getting this close to him, wasn't used to someone being affectionate and gentle with him. And he certainly wasn't used to seeing your serene face after so, so long.

But he liked it.

"I'd never forget," Giyuu quietly confessed and felt your breath fan over his cheeks, a delicate smile tugging at his lips as the promise from your childhood was renewed. It was the first time you had seen Giyuu smile and contrary to Shinobu's words, it was the most beautiful thing you had ever laid your eyes on.

Step by step, the sun began disappearing behind mountains and dipped the sky in a beautiful mix of orange, blue and pink. Soon, the stars would light up the sky and the moon would shine brightly.

But with the sun setting, it also meant that demons were about to crawl out from whatever hole they hid themselves in.

"Grab your sword, [Name]."

"Huh?"

Giyuu knew he was about to weave you into a life which could never be described as safe or domestic, but he never forgot that you had already decided to become a Demon Slayer when you two were children. He had seen the way you fought, backed him up and sensed a demon's blood lust.

After all this time, you never truly forgot who you were.

"It won't take long until the demons come out. Let's go."

You nearly fell from your bed as you hastily reached for your sword and a bit of confusion lingered in your mind. Just what was Giyuu thinking? It was hard to tell with his face barely moving like it used to.

"I never officially passed the final selection," you sighed and looked at the sword in your grasp which was once broken, lying right in front of you. "I can't just go with you..can I?"

Giyuu could feel doubt and insecurity seeping from you which definitely wasn't characteristic for you. When you fought Mizu, you were hell-bent on defeating her, despite the injuries you took. Was it guilt from back then making you doubt..?

"What happened 8 years ago is unfortunate, [Name]." Pitch black bangs threw a subtle shadow over Giyuu's eyes, but his voice was, dare you say, soothing. "But if you still want to fight, then I'll train you until the next final selection. Going on patrol with me is considered training."

It was okay for you to become a swordsman once again, right? Urokodaki didn't put you through hellish training and taught you everything he knew just for you to quit. With Giyuu's help, you could surely put an end to the existence of demons. Yes, you could do it!

Confidently, you strapped your Nichirin blade to your waist, grabbed Giyuu's hand and pulled him through the hallways of the Butterfly Estate until you were finally outside. "Then what are we waiting for? Training is about to begin!"

Faintly, Giyuu could hear Shinobu, Aoi and the three girls bid their goodbyes. His eyes fell down to your hand holding his tightly with the wristbands nearly touching one another.

Perhaps, you were really bound by the wrist and though the red threads got heavily tangled along the way, it never got severed.

#tomioka giyuu #tomioka giyuu x reader #giyuu x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #kny x reader #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader

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cxsmicmyeon · 3 years

Text

NEW THINGS ; DKS [M]

do kyungsoo x fem! reader

IN WHICH your new boyfriend tries something different in bed, which ends up causing you to panic slightly. and when you tell him to stop, you start to worry that he won’t like you anymore.

genre: non-idol & new relationship au! smut, angst that turns into comfort & fluff. word count: 1.2k warnings: oral sex (male receiving), dirty talk, degradation, swearing, mentions of anxiety, mention of past trauma, panic attack. please take these warning seriously, as some portray serious topics. if you are triggered by any of these, please read with caution.

DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18.

author’s note: omg hey there i cannot be degraded in bed for the life of me (: honestly i get why people like it but every time i read a fic where the reader gets called a “whore” or a “slut” i start to get sad woohoo (maybe i’m too sensitive i dunno). i struggle to love myself and i self doubt a LOT and while i would know that he doesn’t actually mean it, my mind may not be able to comprehend it in the heat of the moment. writing this helped me get out some feelings on this. communication is so so important in a relationship, especially discussing sexual things with them!!! feedback and notes are greatly appreciated <3

"Get on your knees.”

You complied in an instant, dropping down onto the floor so you were eye-level with Kyungsoo’s erect cock. Looking up at him with innocent eyes, you gripped his base and awaited his next command.

“Suck.”

You wrapped your lips around his tip, giving it a few kitten licks before taking more of him in. He took a deep breath as you began sucking slowly, as if you were licking a cherry lollipop.

“Just like that.”

You took more of him in, coating his throbbing cock with your saliva as you swirled your tongue around the head. He fisted your hair into his hands and tugged harshly as his tip grazed the back of your throat. You moaned loudly at the contact, the sound and vibration of your voice elicting a loud moan from your boyfriend.

“You take my cock so well, don’t you, you slut?”

You felt yourself tense at the word. Pushing away any intrusive thoughts, you continued to go down on Kyungsoo. You told yourself to focus on how hot he sounded when he let out another groan from your ministrations.

You and Kyungsoo have been dating for two months. You were still in that fresh stage of getting to know each other (socially and sexually), and you had no complaints. He was always quite the gentleman and very sweet to you. And the past couple of times where you had sex, he blew your mind every time.

Kyungsoo brought up the idea of being more rough with you and trying out dirty talk one night. You were familiar with both ideas, having read loads of erotica in your life and even dabbling in it yourself with past partners. Despite a few doubts, you still remained open-minded. You accepted his offer, which brought you to this very situation.

“You like that? Having your filthy lips wrapped around my cock, whore?”

At those words, you felt yourself begin to panic. You released Kyungsoo’s cock from your mouth with a soft pop, uttered a soft ‘I’m sorry,’ and stood up. You ran inside of Kyungsoo’s bathroom and locked yourself inside. You felt your eyes well up with tears and started to cry softly, burying your face into your hands.

You knew he didn’t actually think you were any of those things, and you knew that those names were all a part of trying out dirty talk with a partner. But, in the heat of the moment, hearing him call you those names made you think of times where you were called them by someone who actually meant it. Bullies in school, perverts on the bus, drunkards at the club. Obviously he wasn’t any of those people, quite the opposite, actually. But still, your mind went back to those hard times, and you did not want any of that to be associated with Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo, the kindest man you ever had the pleasure of knowing. Kyungsoo, the man with the loudest laughter hidden behind his stoic façade. Kyungsoo, the man whose cooking you absolutely adored. He was the textbook definition of an amazing boyfriend, and you wanted nothing bad to remind you of him.

You heard a soft knock on the bathroom door. You wiped your eyes with some spare toilet paper before walking to the locked door.

“Are you okay?” Kyungsoo asked, worry laced in his voice. You didn’t answer, looking down at your hands in shame. You were ashamed that you could not handle the simple act of sexual degradation, you could not handle being called a small, little insult that Kyungsoo did not even mean. If characters in the erotica you read could handle it, why couldn’t you? That’s what you told yourself, at least.

“(Y/N), please open the door. I need to know if you’re okay.” Kyungsoo pleaded, jiggling the handle. As if a dam were to break, you sunk down onto the floor and began sobbing uncontrollably. Kyungsoo jiggled the handle once more before leaving to get the key.

A pair of arms wrapped themselves around you as soon as you heard the door open. Your sobs only intensified as you heard soft reassurances come from your boyfriend. He sat you up and began running a hand up and down your back soothingly.

“I’m so sorry,” you cried, throwing your arms around Kyungsoo’s neck. You felt yourself hold him tighter, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

“Why are you saying sorry, baby?” Kyungsoo asked, kissing the top of your head.

“I... I...”

You struggled to get your words out. Your heart raced inside of your chest as you felt yourself start to shake. Kyungsoo let you go and moved himself in front of you.

“Breathe with me, (Y/N),” You looked around the bathroom for a bit before meeting Kyungsoo’s eyes. He took a deep breath, motioning for you to do the same. You inhaled deeply, holding your breath for a moment before exhaling. “There you go, one more...” You mirrored Kyungsoo’s breathing a few more times, feeling yourself calm down. Just to be safe, you took one more deep breath, feeling your heartrate slow to its normal speed. You looked at your boyfriend and gave him a weak smile, taking his hand into yours.

“Do you feel calmer now?” you nodded, squeezing his hand. “Good. Do you want to talk about it? You don’t have to, whenever you’re ready to talk, I’m here.”

You thanked him before standing and leading him back to his bedroom. He sat on the foot of his bed, patting the area next to him for you to sit with him. You took his hands into yours again, taking a deep breath.

“I’m sorry for before. I should have told you before we started, but I’m really uncomfortable with degradation. I know you brought up the rough stuff and dirty talk, and I’m mostly okay with that, but the whole degradation thing slipped my mind and I should have brought it up earlier. I know that’s probably something you’re into and I’m sorry that I can’t really provide that for you. P... Please don’t be mad at me.” You avoided Kyungsoo’s gaze in fear he would reject your apology.

“You don’t have to apologize. And I’m not mad at you. I should have asked you if you liked that stuff. But thank you so much for telling me, (Y/N). Please don’t think that I’d be mad for something that makes you uncomfortable, especially in bed. I want you to be comfortable with me always, (Y/N).” Kyungsoo wrapped his arms around you, kissing your temple softly. You returned his affections, cuddling close to him.

“Thank you, so so much.”

Never have you felt so safe, so valid, so appreciated. Never have you felt so heard, so seen by a partner. You curled closer to Kyungsoo, peppering his bare shoulder with kisses.

“We don’t have to do anything else today, do you wanna watch a movie or something?” Kyungsoo asked.

“Can we just... cuddle?” you responded, looking up at him.

“Of course.” Kyungsoo stood and led you to the front of the bed, moving the blankets so you can get underneath. He laid next to you and covered both of you with the blankets. He held you close as you laid your head on his bare chest, the sound of his heartbeat lulling you to sleep.

And for the first time in a long time, you felt as if you were home.

Home was now with Kyungsoo.

Forevermore with Do Kyungsoo.

#exowritersnet #d.o x reader #d.o x you #kyungsoo x reader #kyungsoo x you #kyungsoo imagine #kyungsoo smut #exo smut #exo imagine #exo imagines #exo scenario #exo scenarios #exo fanfiction #exo fluff

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crackededges · 3 years

Text

Starry-Eyed

Pairing/s: Analogical

Warning/s: Kissing, implications of anxiety, and self-deprecating thoughts. If there should be more, feel free to let me know.

Summary: One night, Virgil finds Logan alone, gazing at the glittering sky. It takes Virgil every ounce of his being not to fall for the starry-eyed nerd in front of him, not knowing that he already has...

Genre/s: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

Word Count: 4366

Author’s Note: Leave it to me to make a Moceit ficlet and write this monstrosity after. Likes and reblogs are highly appreciated.

AO3

*****

“It’s getting pretty late…” Virgil stood solemnly across from Logan.

The night was warm. Warm enough to make the air heavy with musky scents of nature. From the sickly sweet smell of freesias to the shallow whiffs of grass, every little detail stood as an unashamed reminder of spring.

The evening breeze grazed his skin, wrapping him in its sultry embrace when he found Logan, seated on the ground, lost in his own head. The surroundings sighed. It was a delightful change from the usual cold nights that blew mercilessly at whoever was found awake and rattling with restless thoughts.

Restless thoughts like Logan’s.

Logan stiffened. He looked to the source of the voice, and let his muscles loosen once he recognized the figure in front of him. A short, relieved exhale could be heard escaping his lips. If one were to be quiet enough, maybe they’d hear Virgil’s curiosity spark in weak but volatile bursts.

“Virgil,” he began. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

Virgil stepped closer. The grass brushed against his shoes, delicate but assertive. He usually didn’t like the sound. It was much too unsettling, especially at a time where darkness enveloped each corner with its presence, rendering anyone weak and helpless. But at that moment, it was the least of his worries.

It wouldn’t be a part of his worries for quite a while.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep by now?” Virgil stood beside him, making sure to maintain a comfortable distance. “You’re usually so strict with your own schedule.”

In one swift move, Logan brought his hand up to inspect the watch on his wrist and his eyes went wide. “My apologies.” He looked around, clearly disarranged. “I didn’t seem to notice the time.”

“Distracted?”

Logan looked up. “Pardon?”

“Were you distracted by something?”

His gaze retreated to the ground, shame and embarrassment flooding his face. “Yes…” He admitted. “I suppose that would be a good assumption.”

Virgil cracked a smile, finding amusement in Logan’s sudden loss of order about himself. He glanced at the sky above them. A dark blue canvas had covered its entirety with clouds bleeding into the thick veil, sporadic and untamed. Stars were scattered across the heavens, enthralling in their unaligned pattern. It provided balance in some way. A solitary flaw in a sea of flawless elegance. Now that was a sight to see.

“I don’t blame you,” Virgil said. “The sky’s pretty clear tonight.”

“It is.”

“It’s rarely like this.”

Logan sighed, melancholy lacing his tone. “Unfortunately.”

A wave of empty silence passed. Logan cleared his throat, clearly not wanting to tolerate the awkwardness that hung in the air. “Speaking of nights, I should be preparing myself to sleep now.” He took one last glance at his watch before heading in the opposite direction. “Thank you for reminding me, Virgil.”

Virgil turned to look at him, his face tightening. He weighed his options, creating thousands upon thousands of reasons that spoke against what he was about to do. Yet...

“Wait.”

Logan stopped in his tracks. He looked over his shoulder and Virgil could’ve sworn his heart fluttered inside his chest, repeatedly colliding against the walls of his ribcage, when he was greeted with curious eyes he would willingly lose himself in.

“Virgil?” Logan asked, soft and cautious. “Is there something wrong?”

Virgil’s mind scrambled for something to say, desperately hoping that incoherent gibberish wouldn’t erupt from his lips. Luckily, they didn’t. “Like I said, the sky’s rarely like this. And it’s a weekend. It wouldn’t hurt to stay up for a little longer if you want to…”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “I don’t see how that would be a logical idea.”

“I didn’t say it was.”

Logan stayed bolted to where he stood, unwavering. Virgil sighed. “Things don’t always have to be logical, Logan-”

“I highly doubt that.”

“And I saw the way you were staring before I interrupted. You seem so... intrigued.”

Strangely, Logan’s voice diminished, possibly subdued by the last word. “What about it?”

“Nothing. It’s just that…” Virgil paused, scratching the back of his neck. “I don’t see you like that often. It’s a good break from being…”

“Unapproachable?”

“Stoic.”

“‘Stoic’?”

Virgil nodded.

Logan opened his mouth, hesitated, and said, “Should I take that as a negative observation?”

He shook his head. “No,” he replied. “I don’t think you should. You have a lot of self-control. That’s admirable.”

Logan stared at the ground, his face contorted into something Virgil couldn’t read. A crease formed between his eyebrows and that was enough of an indication for regret to start seeping into Virgil’s handwoven cloth of conscience. With an uneven voice, he quickly added, “Unless you don’t want to be called ‘stoic’, then just forget I said anything. I’m sorry if-”

“No.” Virgil cocked his head to the side, feeling the pricks of fear disperse and disintegrate. “It’s fine.” Logan turned to properly face Virgil. A hint of a smile could be seen upon his lips. “‘Stoic’ it is.”

It was Virgil’s turn to exhale with relief.

Logan went and sat back down, letting meaningful silence pass between them aside from the faint rustling against the grass. Virgil shifted his footing. He tried to decide if his presence was still welcomed or not.

“Virgil?”

Virgil glanced back. “Yeah?”

Logan smiled. His next words were enough to make Virgil numb from the long-lasting buzz of excitement that jittered through his bones.

“Would you like to join me?”

***

That was how it started. Every week, after all of the strain, after all of the fatigue, the worry, the tightness that slithered and branched from every shortcoming, they found themselves in the same spot at the same time. There was never any formal discussion about it. Neither of them told or urged the other to meet them there. A specific time was never set. It simply happened. Every week, there was an itch in the deepest parts of Virgil’s insides, slowly but surely growing until it was impossible to ignore. He needed to be by Logan’s side, and he feared trying to form a sensible reason behind it.

Maybe he didn’t need a reason. Maybe they could continue this small routine of theirs, forever gazing at the endless sea of stars above them while ignoring Virgil’s agonizing feeling of wanting more. So much more. More of Logan’s presence. More of his demeanor. More of his calming voice that cascaded along crevices of Virgil’s uncertainty and distress, filling them with nothing but mellow security.

He wanted what lay beyond civil words and shallow smiles, but he would be a fool to say that it wasn’t far from his reach. Wanting more was a luxury he couldn’t afford. And what he had in that spot, beneath the stars, was all he could ever claim as his.

If that was the only thing he had in his grasp, he was going to savor it.

Logan had just finished discussing Sirius A, the brightest star that could be seen from Earth’s sky. Earlier, he pointed towards three stars spaced uniformly from one another. They eventually led to a ball of light that seemed to outshine the rest, grand and dignified with its superiority.

Virgil thought it was lucky.

“Do you remember the other day?” Virgil asked, poking through the wall of silence between them. That was another thing. Silence was rarely tense; never rigid. In some miraculous way, Virgil found comfort in the lack of noise. With Logan next to him, taut air was left with no room to settle. And Virgil was thankful. “When you said you were unapproachable?”

“I rarely forget things, Virgil.”

“I know.” A shaky hand ran through his bangs. “I just wanted to be sure.”

Virgil felt Logan’s stare. He didn’t dare to meet it. “Yes, I remember.”

There was a pause.

“Is that seriously what you think of yourself as?”

Logan turned to him, giving a confused look. Something dangled behind his voice. Hurt. Hurt that wasn’t his to carry. He couldn’t understand how the word could have affected him. Maybe he was tired. That must be it.

“Yes,” he answered matter-of-factly. “Is there something wrong with that?”

“No, it’s just that…” Virgil’s hand traced against his jeans, taking a stray thread and holding it between his fingers, a faux expression of focus plastered on his face. “Don’t you think that’s kinda harsh?”

“Being unapproachable?”

“Calling yourself unapproachable.”

“I don’t think so.” Logan reached up to adjust his glasses. Virgil still didn’t look at him. “It’s merely an observation. I know the others find it particularly difficult to consult me for dilemmas. Making an assumption based on their selective interactions was a logical thing to do.”

“Do you think we see you as unapproachable?”

Logan frowned. An answer stood stalling upon his lips. Maybe he didn’t like that. Maybe the question wandered to a place where it shouldn’t, and he couldn’t decide what to do with it other than wave it away like a fly that was much too adamant for its own good. “It would be a reasonable assumption…”

Virgil finally looked up and met Logan’s eyes, shiny with doubt. He barely noticed how close they were to one another, and that revelation almost made him choke. He took a breath and finally said, “Look, take it from someone who rarely leaves his room half of the time and hisses at anyone who tries to make any form of social interaction. You’re not unapproachable.”

Logan blinked, but their gaze didn’t break other than that. He stared into Virgil’s eyes, examining them. Waiting for something to falter. Something to hang back, show delay, and possibly give him a reason to believe otherwise. After a while, he turned away. Virgil had punched the air out of his arguments. When he spoke, his voice sounded lost.

“Is there any logical evidence for that claim?”

With that, Virgil inched closer. He placed a hand on Logan’s shoulder. The touch seared into his skin, but he didn’t pull back. He didn’t shy away. His hand stayed, rubbing fond circles on Logan’s back. Logan didn’t protest.

“You’re a lot of things, Logan. Unapproachable isn’t one of them.”

***

Logan's eyes rarely left the glittering sky. Virgil never complained. In fact, he found delight in it. Logan was in the middle of explaining the expansion of the universe, but Virgil couldn’t help but steal a small glance. He was glad for that. Studying the way Logan’s face lit up from uninterrupted immersion, a jolt of warmth danced without rest.

That was Logan’s effect on him, and it was certainly going to be the death of Virgil one day.

“I never got to ask why you were interested in space so much.”

“Hmm... ?”

Virgil shuffled, his shoulder brushing against Logan’s. They were lying on the grass now. What Virgil once considered as a comfortable distance was thrown out the window, forgotten, and replaced with a new meaning. He cleared his throat. “You always seem so excited whenever space is involved. I mean... I’m pretty sure that’s the reason why the two of us are here every week, isn’t it?” Among other reasons. “Why?”

“It’s big.”

Virgil snorted, nudging Logan slightly. “That’s why?”

Logan laughed at that. Virgil had heard Logan’s laugh before. No, not the stringent one that he uses around the others for the sake of emitting laughter. He had a real one. Raw and vulnerable. He heard it every time he was done with another one of his rambles about the origin of certain constellations, laughing off the far-fetched beliefs made by the Greeks and the Babylonians. He heard it after Virgil recounted an instance with Roman, on the brink of losing his mind after being told that he needed to have facial hair before he could shave, let alone use a godforsaken sword to do it. He heard it when a firefly strayed too far and found itself landing on Virgil’s nose. He wasn’t a stranger to Logan’s laugh. Even so, that didn’t stop his chest from stirring with endearment every time he did.

Logan shifted. “There’s something intriguing about large things, Virgil,” he began once the lighthearted jests had died down. “There’s always more to learn, more to explore, more to understand. Even with that in mind, space is something beyond that; it’s beyond our understanding.” He gestured vaguely towards the sky. “It’s a seemingly infinite void that holds non-Earthly phenomena and continuously expands even before we’ve had the chance to witness it all. Space alone proves that our knowledge compiled after millions of years is only a speck in our universe.”

He paused, taking in the view in front of him, relishing in it as if it was the only time he could do so. His eyes reflected the same fervor that spilled and oozed from his words. “Many think it’s overwhelming, perhaps terrifying, but I think it’s interesting. I even think it’s, dare I say it, beautiful.”

Logan sighed. A smile hung on his face, reaching past his cheeks and up to his eyes. Seconds later, his smile fell. He cleared his throat as a faint blush started forming on his face. “My apologies for rambling. I got quite carried away-”

“You don’t need to apologize, L.” Virgil’s hand trailed to Logan’s, squeezing it gently. At the corner of his eye, he could see Logan’s smile reattach itself, and Virgil couldn’t have been anymore lovesick.

“I agree,” he said, but he wasn’t looking at the sky anymore. “It’s beautiful.”

***

One night, it was different. The usual balmy and cordial breeze had come and gone, leaving nothing but tight air that stung Logan’s nose. Virgil laid on the ground, frigid and quiet. There were no cynical remarks. No skepticism towards the constellations and the history they held. No glint of clever retorts. Not even a dismissive chuckle that acted as a sign of Virgil’s confusion from the overwhelming buckets of knowledge Logan threw onto his lap.

Something was wrong.

“Virgil?” Logan finally asked, having decided that he couldn’t withstand the sudden shift of the air between them. “Are you alright?

It took longer for Virgil to respond. Much longer. “Kinda…” His voice was worn and raspy. “Just had a rough day today.”

Logan sat up, facing him. He could see the restraint on Virgil’s face, clear as day despite the low glow of the night that only highlighted the sharp lines of his caricature. The view tugged at his chest, almost wounding. Since when did he feel like this towards another’s sorrow? Was it the way Virgil was clearly being selective with his words? Did he not trust him enough to be more open... or was it something else? Something he had yet to understand… like the dark veil above his head that held more questions than answers. Whatever it was, it tugged harder when he noticed Virgil turn away. It only added to his pain.

“Would you still be able to tolerate my presence for today? If you would rather be alone, that’s completely understandable-”

“No.”

Logan paused. Virgil tried to sneakily wipe his eyes, but it failed to get past Logan.

His expression softened. Virgil was struggling, but Logan didn’t want to be another stone for him to carry on his already weakening back.

“You can stay,” Virgil said, his voice as quiet as a whisper. His face remained hidden. “Only if you want to.”

Virgil didn’t give him time to respond when he continued with, “If you don’t, that’s fine-”

“It’s okay.”

Virgil’s chest rose unevenly. He looked up, exposing his tear-stained face, and caught Logan’s comforting gaze. For a moment, maybe that was all he needed; a look that held sincerity without an ounce of selfishness.

He didn’t want to look away. He was afraid to.

“I’ll stay.”

In a heartbeat, Virgil leaned into him, his face gently pressing against Logan’s shoulder, warm with tears. Logan wasn’t used to it, to say the least. Consoling someone was far from what he usually knew. Normally, he would leave the emotional complications to Patton. He knew more about emotions than Logan ever could. Quite frankly, Logan found himself vexed by it which meant that it would be doing both of them a favor. But today was different. Virgil was different… and he’d be damned before he’d catch himself sending Virgil away to someone else.

With his lack of experience, Logan only did what he felt was right. He wrapped his arms around him, placed a hand on the back of Virgil’s head, and he held. He held, and he held. He held Virgil close as if he had all the secrets of the world kept in his pocket. No. It was more than that...

He couldn’t quite wrap his head around it. Maybe what they had was beyond wanting. Beyond the usual things they craved from one another. At that moment, they held each other. They held without wanting anything in return.

Logan and Virgil sat on the grass, the sky twinkling without pause, and against all odds, they would stay. As long as Virgil needed him, as long as he had more tears to shed, they would stay.

In the midst of it all, Virgil’s words broke through, wobbly but certain.

“I’m really happy you’re here…”

***

A week passed.

Logan wasn’t there.

At first, Virgil didn’t know what to make of it. More days passed... and he still didn’t know. He knew the reason behind his absence. Thomas had started on another project. As a result, both Logan and Roman were whisked away, tucked back in their respective rooms, drowned in schedules, blanketed in pressure, and wrung dry with expectations as high as the stars. Virgil was no exception. That’s the thing with him... he’s never excluded entirely, is he? The sudden change in the flow of things left him winded; it left him gasping for air more than it usually did. Was it because of the anxiety that came with it all? Was it the tension and weight that he had to endure that disrupted the calmness of his days? Or was it...

No.

No, it wasn’t. It shouldn’t be. Logan had every right to shift his attention to something else. After all, it was for the betterment of all of them. A victory for Thomas was a victory for all. If Logan wanted to dedicate his time to something that was clearly more productive and more worthy of his effort, who was Virgil to stop him?

Still, the pain that clawed in his chest didn’t cease.

Virgil didn’t expect Logan’s absence to be as hollow and bleak and... empty as it was. Surely, a little more than a week wouldn’t hurt much, would it? Oh, how wrong he was. As the yesterdays bled into tomorrows, something deep within him ached. It twisted and crumpled into a misshapen mess of longing and yearning. Yearning for the slowly expanding void to disappear until it morphed into a dismal hum, forever to be ignored and overlooked. He wanted it to shrink into what it should have been: something to pay no attention to.

He wanted... but he couldn’t afford wanting. He never did.

Maybe, if he tried hard enough, he could pretend it didn’t bother him. He could pretend that the barrenness Logan left didn’t gather into a thunderstorm, raging and merciless. Menacing and violent. He could ignore how it lashed against his skin, the icy wind thrashing to and fro until he turned numb. He could lie. He could hide. He could find another way to ease his mind.

He could do that.

But if he could... then why was he sitting on the grass, looking out into the darkness, desperately wishing to hear who Orion was and why he was considered as such a great hunter from a voice of familiarity?

Why was he here?

“Virgil?”

It was Virgil’s turn to stiffen, but he didn’t turn and look to the source of the voice. He didn’t need to. The way his heart leapt to his chest served as undeniable evidence.

“It’s late,” Logan said, words drenched in fatigue.

“I know.”

There was a pause.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

“This sounds familiar.”

Logan smiled through his words. “It does.”

Silence stretched. It stretched much longer than they would have liked. Logan shifted uncomfortably. “Virgil, why are you here?”

Virgil’s chest rose. His mind scraped every corner for a reason. When he turned up empty-handed, he replied with, “I’m not sure.”

They were met with silence once more. Logan took one step towards him. Then another. And another. He sat down, and the warmth of his presence was probably enough to tip Virgil over the edge from his precipice of constraint. For a while, they stayed like that, scared of saying the wrong things and making the wrong moves. Maybe it was better that way. Maybe talking wasn’t worth their time anymore. Maybe Logan had decided it was for the best that they stopped. For the best...

Why did the best always seem to hurt the most?

“I’m really sorry if what happened last time put you off.”

Logan glanced at him. “What makes you think that?”

“I don’t know.” Virgil scratched the back of his head shamefully. “I thought I scared you or something.”

“I don’t get scared.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I... don’t think I do.”

“Why do you always-” Virgil stopped and took a breath, letting his head drop into his hands. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Virgil-”

“Did I upset you in some way?” His tone started to waver like how a gate shook and rattled before bursting open, letting loose whatever creature that panted for freedom.

“Of course, not.” Logan’s next words were soft. Light. Delicate. “I was busy. You know this.”

“I do.” Virgil sighed. “I do know. I’m sorry. I just…”

For a while, Logan looked at him. Thoughtful and evaluative. He still had a hard time grasping why he cared so much about the words that left Virgil’s mouth. It wasn’t even merely the words anymore. With every action, every mannerism, every breath that filtered through his chest, he was left to dangle on a limb, desperately trying to understand more. Perceive more. Absorb more than what Virgil was letting on. Maybe, by some miracle, he could finally decipher the weird language of Virgil, and he could offer him what he wanted. What he needed. The chances of Logan actually giving him that were ridiculously low, but for Virgil, he would try. As long as Virgil’s mind went rampant with whirlwinds of disquiet, he would try.

Again and again, Logan would try.

Virgil lifted his head, still avoiding Logan’s gaze. “I’ve never had something like this.”

Logan’s brows furrowed. “Like... what?”

“This.” Virgil gestured to the space between them. “Just talking and listening and looking and…” He paused, taking his time to consider his next words. He ran a nervous hand through his bangs. “It’s always just been me, y’know? I’ve never had anyone else to talk to and help forget that the rest of the world exists. It’s nice. It feels nice. I guess I was just... scared.”

“Scared…” Logan repeated hesitantly. “Of what?”

A weak laugh escaped Virgil’s lips. “Of losing it in some stupid way.”

“Virge…” Logan began, but the rest of it trailed off. It wasn’t important. Not anymore.

It all started with a touch on Virgil’s shoulder. Just a small pat that said Logan was there. But it burned. It burned with aching. Tenderness. Affection. Everything that was stripped from them after so long came together in one touch, crowding around like a whirlpool. Before they even noticed, Logan wrapped his hand around him. Virgil clung onto it, holding as if his life depended on it. Logan came closer, taking the gesture Virgil threw his way and wrapped him with another hand. His embrace formed a port, a cover, a shelter to shield him from the raging storm of the world outside of their little spot. Logan would do that for him. He had no doubt about that.

When Logan was close enough, he rested his head on Virgil’s shoulder. Virgil turned to him slightly and he let their foreheads touch with a warmth that spread like a wildfire. Logan still had his arms around him, his heat infectious in the best way possible. Virgil couldn’t believe it. He almost didn’t want to. He feared for the sun to rise from its dark and desolate chamber, shedding its light and revealing what they had to be nothing but an illusion. He didn’t want the sun to rise. He didn’t want the night to end. He didn’t want to open his eyes and be greeted with the same stony loneliness he was used to.

But he wasn’t. He opened his eyes, and there was Logan. And Virgil couldn’t have asked for anything else.

Virgil spoke. It was soft and breathy, but Logan was close enough to hear it. “Are you still busy?” He finally asked, his lips lightly grazing against his. “Do you need to leave?”

“No.”

Virgil swallowed thickly. “Can you stay?”

Logan squeezed him tighter as if proving a point… and he smiled. “As long as you want.”

His smile was contagious and Virgil couldn’t help the way the corners of his mouth quirked up. After a while, he lifted his head and was met with blue eyes as dark as the night sky. His smile faded. So did Logan’s. The air quivered between them, shivering with uncertainty. But amongst all the doubts that clouded the moment, they were certain of one thing and one thing only.

Virgil leaned forward. Logan met him halfway. Their eyes fluttered shut before their lips met in complete and utter adoration for the other. Logan’s lips were sweeter than Virgil expected, but that didn’t stop his stomach from spinning and twisting into knots in the slightest. Why would it?

When they broke away, Virgil opened his eyes again and was surprised to see the same starry-eyed look Logan always had when he was lost in the stars above. Virgil couldn’t do anything else but lean forward for more.

Perhaps space wasn’t the only thing that Logan found captivating.

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #analogical #analogical fanfiction #romantic analogical #roman sanders #patton sanders #fanfiction #sanders sides fanfiction #fluff #sanders sides fluff #comfort #angst #virgil angst #kissing #anxiety #sanders sides fic

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newtxtinaforever · 4 years

Text

Happy Birthday Tina!

Hello there! Today's one shot is sponsored by @neighborhood-newtina-reblogger, a tumblr that I greatly admire. Okay, it's not technically sponsored by the blog, but it did provide the prompt/idea for this one shot, which I will include at the very end in case you want to know what it is. Also, the fanart above belongs to @sydsketch and partially inspires my fanfic as well. Don't want to put the prompt at the beginning and spoil the story, so without further ado, I hope you enjoy this little piece of my Newtina heart. Oh, and happy birthday Tina! ☺️

3rd POV

"Oh, Newt. She's perfect!" Tina exclaimed happily, a smile brightening up her usually tense features. It wasn't that the American witch held a grudge against smiling or having fun; quite the opposite, in fact. She was so used to being responsible that her default look was to come across as a professional who took her job seriously. When she was with Newt, however, she couldn't help but smile. His light-hearted nature simply had a way of making her feel like she could let her guard down and didn't have to worry about what kind of person Newt was. Having fought alongside him in the fight against Grindelwald, Tina knew she could trust Newt. It was a good thing because he had just given her a creature to call her own.

"Really? That's wonderful to hear. I hoped you would like her but I wasn't completely sure if you would be interested in-" Newt was quickly interrupted by Tina's warm words of gratitude. "I love her, Newt. Thank you," she replied. Her eyes sparkled with a light reminiscent of the creature that currently rested in its small glass case. "What's her name?" Tina asked softly as she admired the speckled salamander. Newt blushed before replying, "Well, I thought you might like to name her seeing as she's yours." Both pairs of eyes connected for the briefest of moments.

"Of course!" Tina blurted, although she soon regained her composure. "I'm not quite sure where to start, but I'm sure we can think of something." Newt's tender smile at Tina's inclusion of the word 'we' went unnoticed for the most part, yet the tone of their environment was clearly evident. It was nearly impossible to miss the delicate care each person felt for the other, so alive and tangible was it. The silence that settled in during certain moments of the conversation were not uncomfortable, but peaceful instead. Surprisingly enough, Newt was the next one to speak up.

"Keegan," he uttered cryptically. Tina tilted her head to the right by a dozen degrees. "Who?" she wondered aloud, her sharp eyes fixed on Newt. The famous magizoologist remained quiet for several seconds until Tina cleared her throat. "Oh, I'm sorry. I was simply suggesting Keegan as a name, but I understand if you don't like it. She's yours, so feel free to choose whatever name you feel is best."

Tina lowered her gaze to the ground, then extended her head upward. "The name's fine, Newt. And I want you to be included in the naming process, trust me," she said with reassurance in her voice. Newt smiled. "What about Thea? She's the Greek goddess of light, which is fitting since salamanders feed off of fire, right?" Tina inquired. She waited for a response from Newt, but he appeared not to have heard her. Beginning to wonder if something was wrong with him, Tina repeated the end of her previous sentence. "Right, Newt?"

The man in question displayed signs of life after what seemed like forever. His nose was scrunched as if he had caught a whiff of rotting maggots while his eyes blinked ferociously. What was going on? Tina prompted Newt to explain his behavior, although it took some serious persuading. "The name sounds a bit like... well... like Theseus, my brother." Tina nodded her head in agreement and decided to move on. The last thing she wanted was for her new companion to remind Newt of his older brother.

"Perhaps you might consider Idris. It's Welsh and can mean 'fiery' depending on the language." Newt explained gently. His voice was rich and full of childlike wonder, much to Tina's delight. It was rare to find such a kindred spirit in a world where brute strength and power was often congratulated. Tina tried not to let her emotions become too obvious as she lovingly murmured, "I think Idris is a lovely name. Thank you, Newt." Once again, both pairs of eyes connected and lingered; the result was pure fascination and ultimately love.

With their eyes still fixed on each other, Tina closed the space between them. Her long, thin arms wrapped themselves around the middle of Newt's back. Much like their prolonged glances, this embrace was personal and private, something that was special between them. Tina was keenly aware of Newt's reservations regarding the hug, so she made sure to take baby steps while reassuring Newt at the same time. Her fingers brushed lightly against Newt's back, the warmth from her hands radiating through his pale blue shirt. With a great amount of hesitance and care, Tina tightened her grip on Newt. Hopefully he wouldn't feel uncomfortable; that was the last thing Tina wanted. Nevertheless, she held on to him, refusing to let go just yet.

Nearly a minute had passed before Newt reciprocated the hug. Unbeknownst to Tina, his eyes watered and a huge grin spread across his face. Both sets of arms rested gently on the other's back, a sign of peace and acceptance. It didn't take long for Tina to pull Newt in closer, more confident this time. Any lingering doubt as to whether or not Newt would perceive such intimate physical contact to be desirable was gone. She knew that he would understand just as she had learned to understand the roundabout way he comforted and complimented her.

With an overflowing heart, Newt Scamander enveloped Tina in his arms; pure, sentimental emotion surrounded them. Every part of him wanted nothing more than to freeze that moment and remember it forever. Not only was it rare for Newt to desire physical contact, but it was also rare for him to feel so content as a result of it. In Tina, Newt found appreciation and compassion. Despite miscommunication being a continuous issue between them, the two old souls always managed to make things right. If Newt was honest, Tina completed him — to a certain extent. He hadn't felt that his life was 'less than' without her, but he did notice a change whenever she was around, whether physically or in Newt's thoughts. She was someone who helped him restore his jaded view of humanity, and for that, Newt was grateful.

The embrace continued for several more minutes, Newt mentally recording what it felt like to be so close to Tina.

The scent of her hair, the touch of her hands. Newt was so mesmerized that he even dared to lift Tina off the ground, just a couple inches, and spin her very gently. It was instinct and had occurred before he could stop himself. Never before had he allowed his emotions to come off so strongly in the presence of another human being, and he had to admit: it felt freeing.

As for Tina, she experienced similar sentiments during their embrace. Mind racing, heart soaring... Since when did Newt display such sudden outbursts of affection? While Tina was slightly confused by this, she didn't question it because of her elation. If Newt was comfortable enough to be so physically close with her, she took it as a sign of growth and was proud of him. Each second that passed served as a reward earned by the energy both had spent in order to fight against the evil forces that threatened wizards and muggles alike. After years of fighting, Newt and Tina were given a moment of reprieve. A moment to be still, but more importantly, to be happy.

For Newt, happiness took the form of feeding his creatures. This was nothing new, but having Tina by his side — her eyes full of adoration — made the event much more enjoyable. For Tina, growing closer to Newt served as her main source of happiness, although she also happened to find it in the pursuit of wizardkind's most elite criminals. After all, being an Auror was an important part of Tina's life. The fact that her devotion to justice nearly managed to get her killed was unfortunate, yet Tina had put it in the past where it belonged. She needed her job because it allowed her to protect innocent lives, and that was something Tina would never stop pursuing. Whether it was a sideways smile or a lengthy yet tender hug, both Newt and Tina were fond of the little things in life as well as each other. Nothing, not even Grindelwald, could take those feelings away from them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's Note: Below is the prompt for the above one shot ⬇️⬇️

I want Tina to initiate newtina’s first embrace. And I want it to happen in a happy context. I want her to realize that maybe Newt isn’t bold enough just yet to make that move, so she takes control and latches onto him. It won’t be like when Theseus hugged him, arms and back stiff the whole time. It will be at first, while he takes a few seconds to process what’s happening. In those few seconds, Tina is fully aware he’s processing the situation, so she holds him even tighter to reassure him that yes, she’s here. She wants this. She will wait. And once he finally accepts that, I want Newt to reciprocate her embrace with an enormous grin on his face (bonus points for misty eyes). I want him to wrap his arms around her back and tentatively return her gesture. Tina pulls even tighter to erase that last bit of questioning how far he should go. Then, Newt fully wraps her up in him, encasing her with his arms and body as completely as he can (bonus points for a little pick up and spin or something extra cute like that). And they stay like that for a while, just appreciating each other. Wordlessly processing their emotions. Surrendering to their feelings. Just being together like they want.

#AugustNineTeenie2020 #fantastic beasts #newtina #newtina fanfiction #newtina fanart #tina goldstein #newt scamander #salamander #happy birthday tina #tina goldstein birthday

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sweet-barnes · 4 years

Text

From Princess to King - Prince!Bucky

Pairing: Prince!Bucky x Princess!Reader

Word Count: 4.7K

Summary: She is known as the Prince in her kingdom and is accepted by her people and her family, but that acceptance isn’t shared by everyone, not even by the family she is marrying into.

A/N: happy pride month! all you guys have my full support no matter what, i am here for you! i thought i’d write a Royal AU that’s a lil bit different, being fluid in your gender should be embraced and you should be able to identify as whatever makes you feel comfortable! so here’s a girl who embraces her masculine and feminine qualities, changes her titles to the masculine versions in public and dresses interchangeably in a time that wasn’t so accepting of it. Feedback is always appreciated!

Moodboard

The weight of the sword steadied you, grounded you and rooted you in your stance. You let out a deep breath and felt your mind entering a calm state as you closed your eyes. Taking one last breath, you snapped your eyes open and a grunt left your mouth as the sword swung around your body, heading straight for your opponent.

The sound of metal on metal echoed through the training pitch, the young warriors around you flinching at the harsh sound. You paid no mind to them, swinging ferociously in well timed sequences to catch your opponent off guard. They met every strike with a block from their own sword or a slight move of their body, dodging each on coming attack. Your frustration grew as you were unable to get a hit, causing you to become more erratic and unpredictable in your movements.

Soon, it was hard for your opponent to keep up, frantically trying to block each blow but soon it was too much and your sword was clanging against their chainmail.

The sound indicated the end of the training demonstration. Your opponent - one of the knights of the Royal Guard - stepped in front of you and both of you bowed to show your respect towards one another.

You turned your body outwards, towards the on-looking trainees that were stood in awe at the fight they had just witnessed.

“You need to stay focused, analyse your opponents movements and act accordingly,” your voice was strong and powerful as you spoke out to the group. “Your life may depend on it.”

You heard the scurrying of feet behind you as you finished your sentence. You turned as smoothly as you could in your own chainmail armour to come face to face with one of the palace’s messengers.

“Your highness,” the boy bowed in front of you and you dipped your head in response. “Your presence is requested in your Mother’s chambers.” You knew instantly what was about to happen. The plan had been in motion for the better part of 8 months and the time was creeping closer and closer. You nodded, letting the messenger know you would be right there.

You turned back to the group of trainees, “partner up, the Royal Guard will take over your training from here, I expect great things from you.” You flashed your bright smile at them, letting out a small laugh before adding, “see you whenever I see you I guess.”

With that, you turned and made your way to the small stables located at the entrance of the training pitch. Your jet black stallion waiting patiently for you. You let out a sigh, giving his snout a stroke just before placing your foot in the stirrup and throwing your foot over his body, landing heavily in the saddle with all of your armour still on.

“This could be our last ride my old boy,” your voice was wistful as you pulled yourself out of the covering. “Let’s make it a good one.”

Just a moment later, you were galloping through the large open fields, a smile spread across your face despite the tears that were rising to your eyes. You’d miss this feeling and you wondered if you were to be allowed this freedom where you were going next in your life.

You shook away the thought and focused on the ride you were having now, not wanting to miss a moment of it.

You uttered your thank you’s to the Royal Guards who opened the doors to your Mother’s chambers. A few maids were hurrying around the room, fabrics, food and other packages in their arms as they scuffled around.

You met your mother’s eyes at the other side of the large room and made your way over to her. She gave you a fond smile as she looked you up and down with you stood before her in your gamebeson. “You always remind me of your father when you put your armour on, so strong and independent.”

You simply smiled at her and she stood to press a kiss to your forehead. “You have a letter from your new kingdom, a welcoming.” You were handed an envelope, ivory in colour and the seal of your new home was stamped in wax to seal it.

You pulled it open, uncovering the crisp paper inside and the handwritten words. You immediately noticed your title.

“They’ve called me Princess again,” you huffed, glaring at your mother as she passed by you.

You were always known as the Prince. From the moment you could form your own thoughts and words, you instantly called yourself the Prince, and whenever someone would dare call you a Princess, they would be at the receiving end of your telling offs (even at 4 years old).

So that’s the way it has always been. Later in your life, you explained to your people that you wanted to be the Prince as to not be held back by your title as a Princess. As Prince you could venture out into the world more, you would be taken more seriously and you were respected far greater than the feminine title.

You still attended balls in extravagant dresses but you also showed up in well decorated suits and capes, upstaging all the other noble and royal men within the ballroom.

There was no holding you back, however you wanted to look, however you wanted to dress, you made sure it happened and no amount of royal traditions or rules were going to stop you. You did whatever made you comfortable, and if that meant appearing more masculine, the you were happy with that.

Your parents supported you all the way. Your mother was a little hesitant at first, worrying she would never get her precious little girl back but after much reassurance for yourself and your father, promising you would always be her little girl and that you were just a bit different from all the other royal girls in the kingdom, she finally came around to the idea. Now, she was extremely proud of you and defended your choice no matter what.

Your father embraced your interest in the masculine side of ruling a country as much as he possibly could, training you in the battlefield and in royal affairs that the women wouldn’t have previously been allowed any input in. It also gave your mother a chance to get involved, feeling more confident in herself after witnessing your bravery on the matter.

The smile on his face was unforgettable when you took down your first opponent in the training pitch at 10 years old. Fast forward another 8 years and you were training the next group of young warriors to be part of the armies and possibly part of the Royal Guard, the most elite soldiers there were within the kingdom.

With all this acceptance from your family, you found it difficult when the other kingdoms did not respond in a similar way. Instead, they would dismiss your requests of being addressed as Prince and call you Princess regardless, and talk down to you as though you didn’t understand what was occurring around you.

There was only one person from your neighbouring kingdom who understood your preferred title, and that was Prince James Buchanan Barnes, or Bucky as you had grown to know him.

The first time you had met Bucky and his parents, they had greeted you as Princess and then told you to disregard the disorder with their guards as they were sorting the problem themselves and you wouldn’t understand. They quickly stopped underestimating you when you provided the perfect solution to their problem within 30 seconds of hearing it, and adding “it’s Prince Y/N” onto the end.

You saw Bucky smirk at your comeback out of the corner of your eye, a proud smile making its way onto your face as this response. From then on, you knew you’d be safe with Bucky.

Your mother voice broke you out of your train of thoughts. “Darling, I know it’s going to take some time but be patient with them, they’ll learn eventually,”

You rolled your eyes, earning a stern glare from your mother to which you apologised immediately. “I know it takes people some time, but it’s been nearly a year, and I’m going to marry their son, if someone was coming into our kingdom, I would make sure I was accommodating on every level.”

Your mother didn’t have anything to respond with, she knew you were right. Your surrounding kingdoms were not accepting of your view on tradition and tried to dampen it whenever there was a royal gathering, but your parents would never let it affect you.

“Come on sweetheart, we need to get you ready for the morning,” you let your mother lead you out of her room and down to your personal chambers, helping you prepare for your new life awaiting you.

Your heart was pounding as you looked out of your window at the houses that were scattered outside. The villagers were waving at the carriage, hoping to see a glimpse of you as you passed but you only sunk further into your seat.

“They love you already,” Wanda, your personal maid and best friend, whispered beside you. You glanced at her before moving your eyes to the window again.

“They love the idea of me, the idea of me being a good wife and Queen to Bucky,” you sighed. You knew what was to come, and your stomach turned at the thought of it.

The idea of marrying Bucky didn’t cause you as much anxiety as you thought it would when you first heard about the arrangement. Since your first meeting, he made every effort to get to know you. The real you, behind all the fancy ball gowns and suits, the royal dinners and the fronts that every royal and noble liked to portray.

You both had snuck out of your living quarters at an ungodly hour to meet and go for a walk under the stars. That night, he promised he would protect you no matter what. Even if you didn’t want to love him, even if you agreed to just be friends and only be lovers for show. He made a vow to always be the King you needed him to be, out in the kingdom and in private.

That was the night you felt your heart open for him. He held your hands softly and you felt like your skin was on fire under his touch. He provided you with so much care and respect in the short times you spent together, it made you yearn to be around him more often.

You were looking forward to the time you would have with him now. Ever since the last time you had seen him, frequent letters were sent between the kingdoms. Telling each other many things about yourself and with every detail you felt yourself falling and falling even more.

Should a Prince really be letting herself feel this way? You didn’t know, but you would accept that warmth into your life in an instant if it meant you could spend eternity with Bucky.

The people scared you though. The King and Queen scared you, you didn’t know if Bucky could protect you from them but you were willing to let him try. Before you knew it, the carriage had come to a stop and when you looked out of the window, a magnificent palace loomed over you. Elegant and commanding over the kingdom it ruled.

You took a deep breath, glancing at Wanda who reached over and gave your arm a squeeze. “You can do this, I believe in you all the way to the throne.”

You sent her a nervous smile before nodding, turning your body to the door as it was opened by one of the kingdom’s guards. You looked up and Bucky’s face was in front of yours, his toothy grin causing goosebumps down your spine and a matching one to spread across your face.

“My Prince has finally arrived,” he uttered to you, and an elated feeling spread across your chest. Hearing those words from Bucky instantly calmed your nerves. “I’m glad you are here to greet me, my Prince,” you responded. You took his outstretched hand, letting him help you step down from the carriage.

Your mother had convinced you to wear a dress for the initial meeting, but said you were allowed to wear whatever you wanted thereafter, you just needed to impress the King and Queen at first arrival.

The soft grey material stretched out behind you, flowing slightly in the wind. Mesh covered your arms and your back, gold and silver thread creating delicate patterns across the material. The skirt flowed straight down, extra layers helping to create a softer look and a simple tiara sat atop your head.

Once you were fully straightened outside of the carriage, Bucky couldn’t help his eyes wander over you. You had taken his breath away, he couldn’t believe he was marrying you in the morning. “You look gorgeous,” he whispered, his eyes coming back up to meet yours. A slight mischievous look glinted in them but it was soon replaced with endearment. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, “come on Buck, they’re all staring.”

You had noticed the audience that had surrounded you. All the guards, nobles, and royal were all looking onto yours and Bucky’s interaction, the citizens of his kingdom also watching from afar, trying to get any glimpse they could of the new arrived royalty.

“I’m not surprised,” Bucky joked but still led you towards his parents. Your anxiety picked up as the distance between you and them decreased. You were glad you were holding onto Bucky’s arm otherwise you feared you would have turned and ran away.

You felt like you were going to faint by the time you reached the King and Queen, Bucky’s grip was strong on your hand, tightening it against his strong bicep and keeping you in place. However, it was a good job he was holding onto you for very different reasons when the King greeted you.

“Princess Y/N, it’s an honour to welcome you to our kingdom for good now,” his voice was smooth and powerful but his words made anger rise in you. Before you could think to correct his mistake, Bucky was taking the words out of your mouth.

“Forgive me father, but it is Prince Y/N, not Princess,” Bucky held his gaze with his father for a few seconds, almost like they were communicating without words before his father conceded. “My apologies, Prince Y/N, please forgive me.”

You accepted his apology before being guided into the lavish palace that awaited you.

You looked up at Bucky and he was already staring down at you, you sent him a soft smile as a thank you that made his heart swell.

You were guided to a large chamber, a luxurious bed in the middle with red and gold drapes hanging at every window. The dresser, wardrobe and drawers were all made of solid mahogany wood and the gold handles stood out perfectly on them. Your eyes went wide at the sight in front of you, you had grown so used to the luxury at your own palace, seeing others made you realise truly what kind of lifestyle you led.

“Do you like it?” It was only you and Bucky in the room now. All your belongings had been dropped off and you were left alone for some time together before the dinner that evening. You hummed in response, turning to face him as he walked closer to you.

Before you knew it, he had scooped you in his arms with a grunt, earning a small squeal from yourself followed by a giggle. He flung you both onto the king sized bed and gave you a moment to settle before speaking again.

“I missed you,” his eyes were roaming your face, your tiara had fallen onto the sheets and pieces of your hair had fallen over your face. A gentle hand came and brushed them away, his fingers lingering on the side of your face before cupping your cheek in his rough yet kind hand.

Your eyes met his ocean blue ones, his pupils dilating at they looked into yours. “I missed you too,” you whispered. These were the moments you longed for when you weren’t near him. No amount of letters could fill this void of his touch and his smell and his voice.

Bucky inched forward, his breath fanning across your lips as he stopped in front of your face. A moment passed before his eyes closed and he gently placed his soft lips against yours. They were warm and tender, and you felt yourself instantly melt into his touch. From the one kiss, you could tell how much he cared for you and there was nothing that could rival that.

He broke away too soon for your liking and the soft whimper that left you caused a chuckle to rise from his chest. He moved his hand to rest around your waist, pulling your body so it was flush against his. “I’m sorry about my parents, they’re just not used to the Prince thing yet but I promise I have been correcting them every single time, they’re very stubborn.” You shook your head, “I believe you Buck, I just wish they understood what it meant to me.”

Bucky saw the hurt in your eyes and pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead. “I promise we will make them see, they will call you their Prince for eternity.” You giggled at him as he over exaggerated his words.

“What will we do when I’m made Queen?” You voice was quiet and Bucky could hear the worry seeping through. “You will not be my Queen, you will be my King.” Bucky’s voice was stern, he meant every word, you could feel it in your bones.

“I wouldn’t mind being your Queen though,” you moved your gaze down, fiddling with the lapel on Bucky’s hand tailored suit. “Just for you.” Bucky didn’t know what to say. For as long as he had known you, you always insisted on masculine pronouns, and now you were willing to change that just for him?

“Are you serious?” His voice came out as a whisper. His fingers moved under your chin, forcing your head up to make eye contact with him. “You need to tell me if you’re serious or not, doll.”

You smiled up at him, at the anxiety in his eyes at your words. “Of course I am, my Prince, I will always be your Queen, it can be our thing.” Bucky didn’t reply, instead he caught your lips in another one of his heated kisses, making you feel at home at last.

It was the day of the wedding. You had been woken early to start the preparations for the day and you were already exhausted at 9am, you didn’t know how you were going to last for the rest of the day.

Wanda was stood behind you at the dresser, taking out the rollers you had slept in to reveal your wavy hair. She let out a sigh, running her fingers through your soft curls. “I’ve been waiting for this day since I first met you, it seems like so long ago but my dreams of you becoming my King are finally starting to come true, I just know you’re the perfect person for it, especially with Bucky at your side.”

Her words caused a smile to grace your face as you looked at her in the mirror. “I don’t know if I can be king here, Bucky accepts it and supports me but the rest of the kingdom seem against it, they’re just not willing to change.” Your eyebrows furrowed together as you thought of the dinner last night.

“The topic came up with the King and Queen when they mentioned me becoming Queen, I put forward that I would be grateful if I were to be called King, that it would make me feel more comfortable in my role and they turned their noses up at the very idea.” Wanda saw the anguish in your face and dropped her hands to your shoulder, giving them a gentle rub to sooth you.

You carried on, “Bucky came to defend me, and they even shot him down, saying it was not normal and not tradition so it could not happen. Word must have got out, I heard the people protesting outside this morning, they clearly do not want to accept that change either, I don’t know what to do anymore.”

At that moment, Bucky walked in. A white suit adorning his large figure, detailed with gold embellishments and thread, his short hair styled perfectly. He took your breath away when you saw him, your eyes dancing over him and taking as much in as you could.

He looked like a god to you, and you never wanted him to be out of your sight.

“You look perfect Buck,” you said after a moment, a grin lighting up his face as he walked over to you. Wanda stepped out of the way, busying herself with preparing your outfit. You snapped yourself out of it quickly though, “Bucky, you’re not supposed to be in here, we’re not supposed to see each other until we’re getting married!”

The panic caused Bucky to chuckle a little, kneeling down in front of you. “I know, but we break tradition enough already, what’s one more thing?” His soft voice calmed your nerves instantly and you settled back into your chair.

Your hand reached towards him and he instinctively took it in his, his thumb brushing over your delicate skin. “I know you’ve heard the people outside, but I will not let them get to you, they can say whatever they want but you will be King of this land some day, no one can say otherwise.”

You shook your head, “They’ll push me out before I can even become their King, James,” the use of his real name caused a spike of worry in his heart, you never used his real name unless it was serious. “Doll, look at me,” Bucky insisted, his other hand moving to rest on your leg, squeezing it a little to get your attention.

“They may think that now, but once I am King, I will allow whatever you want, and no one can stop me because I will be their ruler, I will not let anyone suppress what you want in this life.”

You lent forward, letting your lips gently graze over his. You felt Bucky smile before he fully connected your lips, sending your head reeling until he pulled away. You eyes followed him as he stood and he let out a laugh, “don’t look at me like that, you need to get ready to be my wife!”

You rolled your eyes at him as he left the room and Wanda walked back over to you. “Wife, huh?” She was giving you the eye in the mirror and you shook your head, you couldn’t help the smile that took over your face. “Yeah, it’s our thing.”

Your foot was tapping against the floor of the carriage as you pulled in front of the great cathedral. The only thing that kept your mind in the present was the fact that Bucky was waiting inside for you, waiting to become your husband.

Wanda was sat next to you, her pastel red dress flowing over her body perfectly. You looked down at your own dress, knowing you would be much more comfortable in a suit but your mother was inside and you wanted to be her little girl one last time. She deserved to see you in a wedding dress on your big day.

It clung to your body in all the right places, the long lace trail laid throughout the carriage at to not crease it in any way. The back of the dress was open, buttons going down along your spine, as you knew Bucky liked it when you wore dresses like that and your hair was decorated with the wild flowers of your own kingdom. An ancient tiara sat atop your head, one that had been in Bucky’s family for centuries. Ivory laced adorned the white material of your dress, creating beautiful patterns along it.

Your bouquet, that you were holding rather tightly - Wanda had to tell you to loosen your grip a few times on the way to the cathedral - was made up of sunflowers and rose. It stood out wonderfully against the pale colour of your dress.

The time between getting out of the carriage and making your walk down the aisle to Bucky was a blur. You focused on him the whole way down, noticing the tears rolling down his cheeks at the sight of you. You made a mental note to tease him about that later on when you were in private.

The ceremony went smoothly. Flowing as naturally as it could with the nerves of you and Bucky causing some jitters, and under the watchful eye of both your mothers and fathers.

You had caught your mother crying a few times, your father holding her hand whenever she did and you sent her a warming smile to comfort her. It must be hard seeing your baby become an adult so quickly.

It wasn’t until the end of the ceremony that there was a problem, and Bucky was not shy in correcting it.

“Please, citizens of our Kingdom, please welcome your new Princess, Y/N.” There was eruption of cheering outside but you felt yourself sink inwards. Bucky made eye contact with you, gripping your hand tighter than he had already been and turned towards the bishop.

“I am sorry Sir, but you are mistaken, it is Prince Y/N,” you could tell Bucky was frustrated, you could see it in the way his jaw clenched and the muscles flexed under his cheeks. The bishop’s eyebrows furrowed. “Pardon me Prince James, but she is clearly a woman, she is a Princess.”

Bucky shifted his weight, letting out a sigh. He turned to face the audience, everyone looking onto the problem that was unfolding. He pulled you closer to him, his arm circling your waist. “This is my Prince, Y/N, you shall all welcome her and address her this way, I will not tolerate for anything other than this title.”

Murmurs rustled through the crowd, Bucky’s mother and father sharing a look with each other before looking back at the pair of you. “If I hear anyone addressing her in a different way, there will be consequences.”

With this, Bucky turned to face you, your eyes wide after his announcement. You shared your first kiss as a married couple there, under the eyes of the kingdom, finally feeling at home in Bucky’s embrace. Maybe now they would accept you, only time would tell.

The kiss was over too soon, Bucky had pulled away and was leading you down through the aisle, passed everyone who was staring at you but you didn’t pay any attention to them. Your eyes were on the man that loved you enough to protect you from his whole kingdom.

You arrived outside to a cheering crowd of citizens, but you rushed straight to the horse and carriage, Bucky helping you inside and gathering your dress before jumping in next to you. It set off immediately, back to the palace where you were to get ready for the celebration later that evening, but you had a feeling Bucky had something else in mind before the event.

The fields of flowers and wheat passed you outside the windows, the birds singing and only the sound of the horses could be heard. You stared at Bucky, taking in his beauty in that moment.

He turned his face towards you, smirking when he noticed your gaze was already on him. “Like what you see?” He joked, and you nudged him before he captured you in his strong arms, pulling you as close as possible.

“I definitely like what I see, my Prince.”

#james buchanan barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fluff #bucky fluff #bucky fanfic #mcu #mcu fanfic #bucky imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #prince!bucky #king!bucky #royal!bucky #royal au

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damnusillygoose · 3 years

Text

Jerza fanfiction(Fluff)

Title: Some insecurities to overcome

summary: Erza has some insecurities. Can Jellal help her overcome them?

Disclaimer: These characters belong to Hiro sensei

'Mira, listen. I think I am overdoing it but I can't stop.'

'I know right? A woman cannot stop her raging heart inside a shop selling skincare products after all.'

'This is very addictive', Erza grimaced, looking down at the products in her hands, ranging from body lotions to SPF to cleansers to moisturizers. All sorts of products a woman can buy to pamper herself.

'You are finally paying attention to your skincare routine. I wonder who is that lucky man who triggered such a change in you, huh?', Mira smiled in a suggestive manner.

'wh-what makes you think I am doing this for a man?! I am doing it for myself you know-

'Yes, yes feminist, I know. In fact, we all know when you exactly started paying attention towards this department. Especially your hair. Stop trying to divert the topic, will you?

'….'

'Does he make you happy?'

Her eyebrows de-tangled themselves from her frown as her face softened at the mention of the man who held her heart within his. 'He does, Mira. He makes me really happy', she gushed in a barely audible whisper.

'I am going be the "best aunt" to your kids. Mhm, though Meredy could be a potential rival for this title', she rambled.

'M-Mira?! That's- You are going too fast! Slow down! It's been just six months to us, give us a break. I would…love to have a family with him in future but right now, it's too soon and I…. I would like to marry him before that', she stammered and covered her face with her hands, turning red at her confession.

Mira eyed her friend smugly, studying her reaction. Erza truly acted different when Jellal was involved. She would turn into the sweetest cinnamon roll around him. Not that she purposefully acted different in front of him.

Erza felt free when she talked to Jellal. She could act spoiled, flirty, bossy, whatever she wanted. She could act vulnerable in front of him because Jellal was her place of comfort. She could be herself within his arms, he was her childhood sweetheart after all.

'Yes, yes grow as a couple, bloom as a couple. Take your time. You guys don't have to rush anyways. Make up for the time you lost', Mira remarked.

Erza lowered her hands slowly, producing a shy smile. 'Yes, we are making up for the time we lost.'

*****************************************************************************************

Seriously though, skincare was such a hassle. It needs dedication and consistency. You have to be patient. You don't get results overnight. Jellal's face was super soft and absolutely blemish free, no dark spots whatsoever. He didn't even use any special product.

'Greens Erza, greens. Eat your greens. Plus, I don't go snacking on sweets in the middle of the night, you know.'

Erza pressed her lips together in defiance. Cutting out sugar redeemed results when someone is trying to achieve clear skin but that's something she couldn't accomplish, if she were to be honest. Leave it, I will try to compensate in other departments like quality sleep and exercise, she tried to convince herself.

She finished applying her hair mask and tied her hair into a secure bun. She reached for her tea tree scrub, took some of it in her hands and started rubbing it in circular motions on her face.

She rinsed it thoroughly after 2 minutes of exfoliating and entered the bathroom to prepare her bath.

****************************************************************************************

Jellal entered the front gate of their little cottage which they bought just at the outskirts of Magnolia. The location had advantages of its own. They both enjoyed and appreciated scenic beauty away from the clanging energy of the city. They could wake up peacefully, hear the serene chirping of birds, as the soft morning rays would kiss their faces gently. After spending an entire decade fighting battles, they thoroughly appreciated the tranquillity provided amidst nature.

Plus, they could very well use some privacy from media houses because Erza and Jellal's relationship was a hot topic going around in the city. They could take long walks without being pestered by them, flirt and make out whenever they pleased, without the fear of being stalked by them. No one could invade their privacy. It was their personal heaven.

Their friends obviously knew about their location, they came to visit them often.

Team Natsu would often come by to annoy Erza but Jellal knew she loved when they visited and she loved picnics as well, so he tried to create an aesthetic arrangement by adorning the flower pots in their lawn with golden lit fairy lights, situated within the close vicinity of their seating layout. He would switch them on late in the evenings, as they all would watch the sun set while sipping tea, stargazing and laughing with each other. Sometimes, Gray would bring his music speakers and they all would dance and listen to some traditional songs together as the fairy lights embellished their surroundings. Jellal truly enjoyed their company, they were a fun bunch to hang out with.

Crime sorciere was no less. Jellal would often play cricket with them on Sundays and afterwards, they would laze around in his lawn, basking in the sun, as it was the closest place from their playing field.

Jellal would find Erza trying to engage herself with his team and serving them pastries. It would warm his heart immediately when he would see her making attempts to integrate with his people.

'Well, you try to spend time with my friends, I want to know yours as well.'

Not to forget the fact, Erza had taken upon herself to look after Meredy, just like she did for Wendy. She would also do her best to include her in girl's night out and slumber parties. The two of the most important women in Jellal's life became close pretty quickly.

He was grateful to have such an exceptional woman who tried to indulge herself with his life, entwining them together, just like they both were meant to be. He was lucky, he contemplated.

He had gone out to visit Meredy. She had recently rented a place in magnolia and Jellal went to check on her if she needed any assistance.

He closed the door behind him quietly and proceeded to place the groceries he bought in the kitchen. He treaded upstairs to their bedroom and found her sitting in front of her dressing table-applying some lotion on her face, her hair neatly wrapped in a towel.

'I am back.'

'Hey. Everything okay with Meredy?'

'Yes, she is ecstatic to have her own place'

'I see. That's good. I should visit her soon and inform her of some cheap shopping complexes, which offer quality clothing in Magnolia. I love to frequent those with Mira. A woman should have some tricks up in her sleeves.' She replied as a matter of fact.

'I am sure she would be grateful for that', he almost laughed. 'What are you doing?'

'Applying moisturizer'

He sat at the edge of their bed and observed her closely.

'What?', she asked

'Can I help you in drying your hair?'

The corners of her mouth raised on hearing his request. She closed her eyes relishing his adoration for her hair that he named himself.

'Please do', she said as she finished applying her lotion on her face.

They were always like this around each other - content and serene, just like two important halves of a single soul, reunited after treading a long and strenuous journey of self-actualisation. Erza took note of the fact how loved he made her feel even through his tiniest action. Like how he was helping her dry her hair right now.

Jellal, unaware of her musing, took hold of her towel and carefully unwrapped it. Her hair was damp but not dripping wet. He divided them in two partitions and gently started squeezing the excess water out with immense concentration and meticulosity. He repeated the process with the other section as well until he was satisfied with his job. He kept the damp towel aside and ran his hand through the soft and glossy texture of her locks reverently.

Erza felt the tension residing her shoulder muscles leave when she felt his expert hands massage her the nape of her neck firmly. He moved his fingers, tracing her collarbone, bringing her against his chest gently.

'Erza, please remember that you are beautiful. Blemish free or not.' He reminded her, whispering gently in her ears before kissing her cheek lovingly. He held her face softly in his hand and turned her to face him, as they held each other's gaze.

She recently developed a complex regarding her skin not being flawless. Those cursed vogue magazines she picked at a store depicted ladies with blemish free faces. They continued to attack her newfound insecurity.

Jellal often witnessed her groaning while examining her face more than usual in front of the mirror. He saw her reading some magazines where models were photoshopped to an extreme extent, as if they had no skin texture at all. Some didn't even seem human with their body enhancements. It was abhorrent, he felt, to make women insecure regarding something which was naturally unachievable. He just wanted to let her know that he was going to love her no matter what and that outward appearance would never dwindle his feelings which he held for 14 years.

'Thank you Jellal', she took a deep breathe and smiled at him, being grateful for his support. 'I am not hating myself anymore for not having clear skin. Those vogue magazines depict a very unhealthy beauty standard and some women end up hating themselves for not looking that fabulous.'

'You shouldn't read them anymore. I don't want you to feel sad over something unrealistic. You are beautiful the way you are.' He didn't think she knew how beautiful she was in his eyes along with her flaws, especially her flaws.

'I am not, believe me. People are meant to be imperfect after all. That's where the real beauty lies. right?', she replied, meaning every single word she spoke, finally brimming with some self-confidence.

'Come here love, sit between my legs, come', he urged her and she relented by walking towards him. He shifted further along the mattress to make some space for her. She crawled over and seated herself comfortably between his legs and laid her back against his chest. He brought his legs around, boxing her within his hold. She brought her hands up to hold his and leaned into his cheek, sighing contently.

They spent a few moments in this position, simply observing and cherishing the sunrays falling into their room-for warming them up in this cold morning. Their hearts-already warmed up with the love they held for each other.

'Hey sleepyhead', he nudged her mildly when he noticed her blinking in exhaustion, almost ready to fall asleep owing to the cosy atmosphere they created, 'Aren't you hungry? What about breakfast? No- brunch.', he corrected himself when he turned his neck to look at the clock. It was almost 11.30 A.M.

'mhmp...? Oh brunch, right. I almost fell asleep', she chuckled, still slightly drowsy.

'What about strawberry sprinkled donuts glazed with white chocolate?!', she exclaimed ecstatically with her eyes wide open, now fully awake.

Of course, he should have known she would reply something of this sort.

'Sure, but after I feed you some healthy omelettes along with salad consisting of broccoli and beans.'

Jellal was kind of particular about nutrition.

'But those donuts are baked, not fried!', she argued. Apparently eating sweets for breakfast was perfectly healthy in Erza's dictionary.

'You can eat fried as well but after we have our brunch.', he hugged her tightly and kissed her forehead. Forget brunch he wanted to eat her right now.

She smiled and rolled her eyes in her apparent defeat.

'Salad it is then.

*****************************************************************************************

A/N: This drabble is also a gentle reminder to all the beautiful ladies out there who feel inferior after browsing through Instagram, looking at those models and wondering why aren't we like them. We are not like them because they themselves do not represent a reality. Instagram is not real, nothing depicted there is. Keep loving yourself and stay hydrated. Do check out my others stories and leave a review if you liked this one. Constructive criticism is appreciated!

link to my profile on fanfiction.net

https://www.fanfiction.net/~damnyousillygoose

#jerza #jerza fanfiction #fairy tail #fairy tail 100 yq #erza scarlet #jellal fernandez #jellal x erza #jellal and erza

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so-writing · 4 years

Text

Snow 13 - Ivar / Hvitserk x Reader (end)

This is later than planned but I've rewritten so many times that it just needs to go. The end of this! I hope you enjoyed it and I would love some suggestions for future stuff!

---

“Wake up,” you rubbed your eyes and focused on the body sitting on you bed, Brenna, “Hvitserk wants to see you.”

The furs hanging over your shoulders didn’t obscure the lace nightdress covering your body. It left nothing to the imagination and you thought Hvitserk would appreciate that. The ball of nerves dancing in your stomach had you on edge the entire time.

“I hope you haven’t waited long,” he smiled sheepishly as he dropped his cloak and leaned down to press his lips to yours.

“I haven’t,” you smiled into his kiss and bit his lip, “will you help me out of my furs?”

You didn’t have to say another word, he was easily untiring your dress and kissing your shoulders.

Dressing quickly, you smiled at the memory of your time with Hvitserk and considered how far the two of you had come since that first night you spent together. You felt slightly guilty visiting him before Ivar.

Gunnhild was standing guard at his door, she gave you a nod as you walked past and entered his chamber. Hvitserk was sitting in front of the fire without a shirt, the deep purple bruises on his back were visible right away.

“My gods, Hvitserk! Look at you!”

“My love,” he groaned in pain as he turned to face you, “you should see the other guy.”

“No jokes, Hvitserk! You could have died!”

“That was always the plan, my love.”

You ran to him and wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him close, ignoring his painful grunts. He was here, he was alive and there was no way you were ever going to let him get away from you again.

“I missed you so much, Hvit.”

“I know,” he kissed you gently, trying to avoid pressure to his busted lip, “but this isn’t the time. Ivar is awake.”

“So what?”

“So he is your husband,” he bowed his head and kissed your neck, “you need to go to him.”

Hvitserk kissed the length of your neck down to your palm and placed a small knife in your hand while he did it.

“I love you,” he whispered, “finish what I could not.”

The blade was hot in your palm as your left Hvitserk’s chamber and headed toward the one Ivar was fighting to stay alive in. His men gave you odd looks as you approached but they could not deny your entrance.

The room was cold despite the fire burning in the hearth. Ivar was still heavily and bandaged and unable to move much, but his breathing had stabilized and he was doing much better than expected.

“What are you doing here?”

His voice was barely above a whisper and his arm trembled as he reached out to summon you closer to his bed.

“You are my husband and you are dying, why wouldn’t I be here?”

A chuckle left his lips as he struggled to sit up and recline on his forearms.

“You are more cunning than I could ever wish to be, my queen. I will miss you.”

“What do you mean, Ivar?”

“You win.”

“What have I won? You are going to die and I will be alone.”

“Silly woman, don’t play those games with me. You would be delighted to send me off the Valhalla. Marry my idiot brother and have a thousand children, I do not care anymore.”

“Do you really feel that way?”

“Yes, you lied to me, you pretended to love me. I wish I could say I was pretending too.”

The blade in your palm was cutting into your skin, reminding you why you were here. He stole your life from you. Aren’t you tired of his control?

“Do you truly love me, or do you just desire what your brothers have?”

Ivar laughed, softer and more hollow sounding than normal. His attempt to lean on his elbows failed and he collapsed back into the bed with a cough.

“My mother told you. This was never about him, I only wanted you. Hvitserk just happened to get in the way of that.”

“Ivar,” you approached his bed and set your hands on his chest, “i’m sorry.”

Blood pooled between your fingers as the sound of his labored breathing filled the room as he struggled to survive.

“I.. wouldn’t..” the words barely passed his lips while he continued to struggle with his breath.

He couldn’t complete his thought but you knew what he meant. You should not apologize for your actions, if he were in your place, he wouldn’t.

Finish what I could not.

Tears pooled in your eyes and slid down your face as you forced the blade into Ivar’s chest until his breathing slowed. If he survived he would ruin your life. He would kill everyone you loved and save you for last so you could watch them all die.

That didn’t mean you couldn’t mourn him. Tears mixed with your husband’s blood covered your face as you wiped your eyes and let go of the knife. It remained in his chest but your knees gave out and you slid to the floor, hot tears running down your cheeks.

That didn’t mean you couldn’t mourn him. Your cries mixed with your husband’s blood covered your face as you wiped your eyes and let go of the blade. It remained in his chest but your knees gave out and you slid to the floor, unable to stop sobbing and catch your breath.

“It’s over,” strong arms wrapped around your body and pulled you from the floor, “it’s over.”

Gunnhild lifted you from the ground and helped you leave the room. The tears hadn’t let up and you couldn’t stand without her help. Every muscle in your body hurt and you didn’t think you had the strength to survive the night, but Gunnhild covered you in familiar blankets and you drifted off easily.

It was strange waking up the bed you shared with Ivar knowing that he would never join you in it again. You knew you had to bathe and dress and eventually make an announcement about the king’s death and what would happen next.

Truthfully, you had no idea what you would say to the people.

Ivar may have had his title of king, along with his life, stolen from him but you were still the queen. Several of your ladies rushed into the room and began to prepare your bath. You rubbed the weariness from your eyes and took control. It was time to be the ruler Kattegat needed.

“I brought a dress that I think will fit this occasion appropriately, my queen. We also went to your father’s shop and he provided us with a weapon that I think would suit you well.”

“A weapon?”

“Yes, you’re the only ruler left, you need to be able to protect yourself.”

“You will look more intimidating, my queen,” a different one piped up, “you will be taken more seriously.”

“Am I not taken seriously?”

It was a question you had never thought to ask but when your ladies busied themselves with work rather than responding, you had your answer.

“What can I do?”

The words came out of your mouth more pleading than questioning, and as soon as they left your lips, there were three women surrounding you.

“You are Ivar’s queen but it is widely known that you are Hvitserk’s love. You need to play to that strength.”

“You should also go ahead and take over Ivar’s armies! Declare yourself the true queen!”

“Wield your father’s weapon and take no prisoners. Do not show any amount of sympathy for anyone, you will be thought of as weak.”

You had spent so much time under Ivar’s thumb that you never considered your own royalty. He was a tyrant king but you were his queen, and now that he was gone, Kattegat was yours.

You’d gone from a common blacksmith’s daughter, to the lover a prince, to the wife a king.

Ladies draped your furs around your shoulders, placed your crown on your head, and tucked your father’s sword into your waistband. There was a difference in your attitude as you left the great hall to stand in front of the confused and scared crowd of townspeople. As soon left the hall silence fell over the crowd. They were waiting for you.

It was the first time you truly felt like a queen—the queen of Kattegat—and it was going to stay that way.

tagged: @lol-haha-joke @youbloodymadgenius @heavenly1927 @blonddnamedhandz @ivarthebloodyking

#vikings imagine #ivar the boneless #ivar the boneless imagine #Hvitserk #hvitserk imagine #alex høgh andersen #marco ilso #I hate tagging things #ivar x hvitserk #I hope y'all enjoy #snowivarhvitserk #ivarxhvitserksnow

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fanficsrusz · 4 years

Note

Hey there dear!I hope you're good.So today I found out that one if my favorites author in one of my fandoms is going to leave her blog cause of anon hate and harassment from other members.She was one of the main supporters of trying to stop the stereotypical/racist portrayal of POC people in the fandom and the others just obliterated her and the others that were calling out the writers that were doing that. Being a POC girl too (Latin American) I'm tired of seeing this mindset also in fandoms1/2

"It seems like people that aren't white can't be safe from belittling/harassment or the cruelty of the others, even in fiction. This reminded me when me and two friends (from Venezuela) were harassed by some Spanish members in our fandom to the point that someone reported us during the "witch hunt" on Ff.net and we were forced to delete our stories (but theirs "mysteriously" remained). It happens several years ago, but I still remember how it hurted. Sorry for venting here, but I really need to get this out of my system cause it truly enrages me. Thank you for the lovely answer to my ask the other day, it truly ment a lot for me. Bye!

First of all, that's terrible. It's disgusting that she even has to spend time trying to eliminate stereotypes for POC. Like it's 2020. Get your shit together people. It's also disgusting that people would hate others just for trying to see themselves in something they love.

I know this is a very controversial topic but i do think it's something that needs to be addressed more.

I can't even begin to imagine the issues that POC face, and i believe it's even worse if you're a WOC. Obviously I'm white so i have that advantage in life (it's terrible to say that but it's how this fucking world works) but i still struggle because I'm a woman and i know what it feels like to be looked down upon, so with the added racism on top, it's hard.

I 100% stand behind POC who bring some representation to their fandoms because everyone deserves to see themselves represented in whatever fandom they're in.

It's irritating to me when i read a fanfic and the charecter has blue eyes when i have brown. It makes me feel like i can't really connect to the story and it's something so little and stupid, So to see that the majority of other fanfics are centered around mainly white woman must be frustrating and it must make you feel as if the person you like wouldn't even glance at you because that's how it would make me feel if i was in that situation. And that in itself is crazy to me because i have seen so so so many POC who are literally STUNNING .

There arnt enough words in the world to describe how proud i am of POC who write and devote their time to writing fanfics (or creating any other for of fandom content) for others that fail to see themselves represented in other people's work.

20 years ago there was more than likely no fanfics that portrayed a POC but now i can find loads of accounts that solely focus on providing work for them. I know its not a lot but it's progress and in the future i hope there will be a time where people don't even remember the stereotypes around POC.

It's also empowering to see that those people behind those accounts woke up one day and thought 'I'm sick of this' and create something that they would love to see and took a stand in order to change the way things were done.

The only way i can compare it so other people who arnt POC can understand (especially women) is image if Emmeline Pankhurst never created the suffragettes. Where would women be today without her .

We should stand behind POC who are brave enough to face the hate in order to get representation and give them the support they deserve and need to power through it all.

I will stand with anyone who fights for representation of their race in anything and to give them the love, appreciation and attention they deserve.

I'm sick of seeing these butt hurt people complain about bullshit like this. Seriously. It's only like a small percentage of fandom content that focuses on POC.

Ok i hope you see my point with this because i feel like i'm rambling and i could go on forever about this.

So to summarise. I love and support POC who create content for their fandom and i strongly encourage your friend to just ignore the hate, as hard at that is, and continue doing what she is.

Honestly don't worry about sending me stuff randomly because i honestly love it and i will always try to do my best to give other support. I'm not perfect and i will make mistakes, but i will learn and i will improve ❤️

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rocketpowerreg · 5 years

Text

I’VE GOT HUNGRY EYES (flashback) → RAWRper

TAGGING→ @notthatharperlee @rocketpowerreg TIME→ August 18th, 2018, late evening (the day before the Flower Arrangers vs Showers Fall 2018 game) LOCATION→ A diner in Manhattan NOTES→ Deciding to hang out the night before the upcoming game, Harper and Reggie get food from a late night diner. Deeper feelings get realized, and even more unexpectedly, acted on AUTHOR’S NOTE → this shit is soft as fuck.... HAPPY BIRTHDAY 4TH BIRTHDAY JEN!!!!!

REGGIE CLIFFTON

When Reggie was younger, more competitive, and less physically damaged, the day before games had a specific process. She would get all her responsibilities done, and just mentally prepare for the challenge to come. That continued on through all her years of playing in a row, especially as she got better and her future starting relying on how good her stats were. But seventeen year old Regina Cliffton was vastly different than twenty three year old Regina Cliffton, for she had experienced life without soccer. She had survived past it, and found she could be okay still. Not perfect, but okay. Which made it easier to decide that instead of laying around alone, she could go out and enjoy the world. Maybe even enjoy it with the people around her.

With that logic, it was easy to see how Reggie winded up being with Harper at the late night diner Scout used to work at.

They had boarded there together from Harper's dorm, Reggie never minding to go the extra distance of going to get Harper rather than meet her places. Things were more fun with her, and her trusty stead had served them more than well. It was late at night, and despite being a Saturday, there was a lowkey crowd. Mostly just a few drunks on the other end of the restaurant. It was easy enough for the pair to be in their own world. Reggie's focus was on Harper as she gave an enthusiastic rendition of a Brachiosaurus eating a French fry. As always, Reggie found it adorably amusing, as proven by her laughter that she tried to cover with the sandwich in her hand. Yet her eyes never left Harper even between the chuckles.

Once properly composed and normal eating habits resumed, Reggie realized something she hadn't considered before, "You know, it's crazy because I've brought food from here to you. But I think this is the first time we've actually eaten here." Reggie straightened up, nearing the last few bites of her sandwich, and asking in a sincerely curious tone, "So what do you think, better as take out or does it have a good atmosphere?"

HARPER CLARINGTON

Harper paused mid-bite to consider Reggie’s question. The answer was complicated, after all. The truth was that she had visited the diner on more than one occasion while dating Spencer. It was a fact she hadn’t purposely kept hidden from the brunette, but it had never come up before tonight. Harper wasn’t oblivious to the way that Reggie was looking at her. Despite the slurred bumbling of the drunks in the background there was a marked difference between the atmosphere tonight and from their previous ‘dates.’ The last thing Harper wanted to do was ruin the moment by talking about her ex, formerly Reggie’s sworn enemy. True to her word, Harper had kept a guarded distance from the idea of having something more with Reggie. Her heart, however, had different ideas and despite her best intentions Harper had fallen for the culinary student.

Realizing that it would be easier to take her seriously sans sandwich, Harper set down her food and waited to reply until she had finished chewing. “You know how to throw the tough questions, Cliffton. Are you sure cooking is the right career path for you? Because I’m seeing some lawyer potential right now. Remind me to hire you as my defense team when the time comes,” she teased, playing into her well-known love of true crime. “Honestly, I’ve been here a few times before. Enough to say that no meal compares to sharing it with you.” An embarrassed flush colored her cheeks at the revelation and Harper ducked her head bashfully. A flash of neon in the corner caught her eye, providing the perfect distraction from the cheese she had just unleashed upon their table.

With a playful smirk she raised her head to meet Reggie’s gaze. “In fact, I’m certain the only thing that could make this better is some jukebox jams. What do you say?”

REGGIE CLIFFTON

Reggie was waiting patiently for Harper's response, always interested to know her thoughts on just about anything. That ranged from movie theories, to how she felt about certain sexual endeavors, and currently diner food. She smirked at Harper's first response, chuckling to herself and dropping her head a little in the process all in good fun. Given her humor didn't seem to always land with people, it was nice to have Harper around to make dumb jokes with. She quickly lifted her head though, and just as Reggie's eyes landed back on Harper, she was ducking hers. Except she had done it out of feeling flustered for what she said, and that made Reggie's expression soften. Despite her affinity with woman, Reggie wasn't used to having someone say sweet, genuine comments like Harper often did. In the beginning, those kinds of words made Reggie's own cheeks heat up out of uncertainty for the words, and knowing how genuine they were. As of late, she seemed to be able to accept them with a little more ease-- taking them right to heart instead of mind.

Reggie didn't say anything back, but her eyes didn't leave Harper, either. She just smiled and let her get herself composed. It was easy for Reggie to just observe what Harper did, finding her mesmerizing in many ways. At the mention of a jukebox, Reggie's eyes landed on the machine she was referencing. Having picked more than her fair share of songs on it, Reggie was more than aware of the jukebox at the diner. It was one of the most fancy ones she had ever seen, which meant that it had a vast music library, "I say you make a good point, bar royal. There's definitely something that could make this night better," Reggie agreed, sitting straight as she started to get herself out of the booth seating. While still at the same level as Harper, Reg swiftly leaned herself towards Harper to steal a quick kiss with a crafty smile on her lips after, "Like that. That makes for a better night. But a jukebox jam probably could, too."

Properly standing up, Reggie made her way to the high tech jukebox that was only mere steps away from where they had been sitting. She had no idea what she was looking for, though surely something would pop out, "Since you've been here before, you probably have some songs on here you know you like. You sure you want to trust me to pick the right one?" She teased, mostly just wanting to keep conversation with Harper despite being only a few feet away.

HARPER CLARINGTON

The witty remark Harper had prepared was lost as Reggie leaned in for a kiss. The charm of the atmosphere combined with the clear thought Reggie had put into the outing left her wanting to deepen the kiss. Knowing that would only succeed in them ending their night early or result in them getting banned from the diner and possibly cited for public nudity, Harper made a mental note to make up for it once they found themselves back in her dorm. She turned her attention back to Reggie, who was standing next to the jukebox with the kind of confident ease that had attracted her to the woman in the first place. “Don’t get too cocky there, Cliffton. What makes you so sure that a kiss from you wins out over the jukebox? For all you know, I’m a jukebox junkie.” The competitive nature that was hardwired in her took over as she teased the brunette, slipping in a reference to a favorite song from a childhood of accompanying one parent or the other to bars. Truth be told, it was hard for Harper to even joke that she would prefer anything over a kiss from Reggie. Not when she had spent every moment away from her counting down when they would see each other next. She was positive the bluff was written across her face as obvious as her feelings for Reggie.The woman was quickly carving out a space as someone dependable in her life, a fact that both terrified and excited Harper. Trusting someone that thoroughly didn’t come naturally to her, but with Reggie it had almost happened without a conscious effort. Harper stacked the empty plates at their table as she considered the question. “I’m sure I’m going to regret inflating that ego of yours later, but when have you ever let me down? Surprise me. I’ll even cover my eyes to give you a fair shot.” It wasn’t like she could even see the selection screen from where she was sitting, but Harper wanted to play up the stakes. Reaching back, she pulled the hood of a sweatshirt she had ‘borrowed’ from Reggie earlier that week down low over her eyes and waited.

REGGIE CLIFFTON

Ah, that quick wit. It always managed to get a smile out of Reggie, even if it came as a playful jab her way. Having someone to laugh with felt nice, especially when it went both ways. Reggie had a hand on the jukebox, leaning over it's touchscreen as she was scrolling, tossing a, "You raise a good point, your highness. Consider me humbled." Which, given the smirk on her lips, it was clear that she wasn't humbled in the slightest. She knew Harper well enough to be aware she was thinking of wanting more than just a kiss, mainly because Reggie was, too. But they'd get there eventually.

For now though, she needed a song, and almost as if a gift from the universe was being presented did Reggie find the perfect choice. It was coming up next with the current song already coming to an end. When Reggie was younger, music played only a small role in her life as she tried to distance herself from it given her father was a musician. It wasn't as if not listening to any music got back at him, but Reggie just didn't develop a connection to it. Not until she was in college and dance had been part of her rehab process. Getting into dance made her appreciate rhythm, melodies, lyrics, and the sensation music brought all the more. She had also got much more into movies and television while she was injured, which left a perfect cross section genre of songs from movies. Ones considered iconic, and perfect for a night to just be playful and at ease with good company, "Hey Clarington, turn around," she called out as she she stood there by the jukebox waiting.

Only moments later did the opening beats of Hungry Eyes from Dirty Dancing started play, Reggie was very confident in her choice. She gave Harper a smile as they locked eyes, her shoulders shimmying a little to the bells of the song. Once the lyrics began, she was dramatically mouthing the words, her focus never straying far from Harper,"I've been meaning to tell you/I've got this feelin' that won't subside," Reggie started she started moving over towards Harper with moves that both had some skill behind them, while mixed with a goofy, over exaggerated nature. Still, the steps remained to the beat despite it all, "I look at you and I fantasize/You're mine and tonight/Now I've got you in my sights" Reggie's brow quirked a little suggestively at that line, one of her hands with two fingers pointing at Reggie's own eyes before turning to point them at Harpers. Reggie's smile was nothing short of playful.

As the chorus began, Reggie was back to being near their booth and extended her hand out for Harper to take. Her head even motioned little as if to beckon Harper further. Reggie had a smile on her face was full of life, while remaining soft as she wanting to be inviting for Harper to join her. It wasn't lost on her they were in public-- normally Reggie kept a certain front on for the world in order to only be seen as she wanted to be seen. But they were in a diner that was familiar, even if Scout was gone now, and Reggie was with someone who had see many sides of her already. The comfort ability was there between them for Reggie, even in a diner that had drunks and overworked staff, and that spoke volumes.

HARPER CLARINGTON

At Reggie’s request Harper lowered the hood of the sweatshirt and turned to face the jukebox. The dying notes of the last song were quickly replaced by the sound of Hungry Eyes, a song from the movie she had watched countless times with Hunter. Truth be told, Harper couldn’t have picked a better song herself. The lyrics seemed to voice the thoughts she had been having moments earlier and she couldn’t help but think of the vicious way Hunter would razz her if she could see how her heart was starting to beat in time with the chorus. She watched fervently as Reggie began to lip-sync along in time with the song, the performance becoming increasingly lively as it continued on. At the sight of Reggie pointing her out, Harper threw her hand against her forehead in a mock faint. It was no secret that Harper wasn’t afraid to put herself out there in the name of a good dinosaur impression, but this was the first time she had ever seen Reggie let loose in public. It was hard to imagine how they had gotten to this point when she considered the fact that just a couple of months ago the soccer player was merely an emotional hook-up for her.

Before she had time to contemplate their relationship further, Harper grabbed the woman’s extended hand and was swept up onto her feet. She let her arms gently wrap around her Reggie’s neck as she found the rhythm of the music and let the diner fade into the background until it was just the two of them in that moment. Unwilling to let Reggie completely upstage her, Harper dramatically mouthed along to the chorus. It wasn’t until the final line that she hit a small stumbling block- the word love. Like a flash of lightning across the night sky the lyrics clued Harper in to what she was missing all along. She hadn’t just fallen for Reggie, she loved her. Somewhere along the way of learning how to board and trying to convince herself that she would be fine keeping things casual-ish between them Harper had given away her heart.

Now did I take you by surprise?

As far as the Clarington sisters went, Harper was nowhere near as reserved as Hunter when it came to letting someone in. That, however, didn’t mean she wasn’t cautious. It took a long time for her to truly become comfortable with another person and allow them to witness her at her most vulnerable. Her rule had been simple. Don’t let anyone get close enough to have the opportunity to hurt her like her parents had. Months ago Harper had written off Spencer as an exception to that rule. Now, it seemed, Reggie had snuck through the cracks without her even noticing. And already Harper could say that she was worth the risk.

The song was starting to wind down and Harper was at a loss for words. She closed the distance between them with a kiss, wishing she could say everything on her mind. Instead, she settled for the witty comments that had become synonymous with her name. “So, humble knight, was it your intention to literally sweep me off my feet or is it just my lucky night?”

REGGIE CLIFFTON

Dancing in a diner had not been part of Reggie's original plan when deciding to take Harper to the diner tonight. Which, granted, there was hardly much of a plan to begin with as she simply wanted to have the courage to ask Harper to the diner in the first place. Unbeknownst to the girl she had in her arms, Reggie was viewing this night very much as a date. She didn't want to tell Harper on the off chance it would cause a panic in some part of Reggie's conscious-- however it didn't. She had just felt excited nerves, one she had assumed were very much long gone. Her and Harper had gone and done similar outings, Reggie wasn't blind to that, yet she had always been keen to only see them as hang outs. Calling this night with Harper date was a major step she needed to take, and it was going better than expected. The patience and understanding that Harper continually brought her over the months had been paying off for both of them. The idea of opening herself to romance and love had started to sound obtainable.

It took no time on Reggie's end to kiss Harper back nearing the end of their dance. She could practically taste there being extra emotion behind it and that caused Reggie to try and match it. All things considered, it wasn't hard to do so in the slightest. She felt deeply for Harper Clarington, and Reggie accepting that much was another personal accomplishment. a grin broke out at Harper's question, feeling prideful at the fact she could still sweep a girl off her feet, or more accurately, that she could sweep Harper off her feet. With their eyes meeting, Reggie's grin didn't falter when she answered with, "Can't it be both?" as her hands moved from being on Harper's hips to instead loosely have them around her waist, pulling their body's a little bit closer. There was a moment of silence as the songs switched, and it seemed a lot like time stood still in that time, though it certainly hadn't.

While the night wasn't over, Reggie felt that it had been a success so far. Enough of one that she was feeling braver, calmer, more at ease. So she wet her lips and tilted her head, formulating words in her mind before pressing on, "I was thinking... in a couple weeks we should do beach camping. The season's going to be over, you'll be all moved in, but school's still not starting. I'll be done with my externship..." Reggie listed, knowing that it wasn't like she needed to convince Harper but with how well it all lined up, it seemed too perfect not to make note of, "So, what do you say? Want to venture out into wilderness and see if my choices in songs are as good as my survival skills? Promise there will be s'mores a plenty."

HARPER CLARINGTON

“I wouldn’t have mentioned both options if it weren’t fitting,” Harper quipped, her eyes lingering on the irresistible way that Reggie wouldn’t stop grinning. The mere weight of the brunette’s hands on her hips would have been enough to sweep her off her feet on a normal day, but Harper wasn’t about to disclose that fact. Better to let her discover it later, when they inevitably fell into bed and could let their hands do the talking. For the first time she wished she could freeze this moment- the two of them dancing in a beat down diner with only eyes for the other. But this wasn’t a movie and before long the last song faded, leaving them standing in silence.

Any further thoughts she had were interrupted as Reggie posed the question of beach camping to her. Now this, this was the something more she had been hoping for. It wasn’t a proclamation, but Harper could see it for what it was; a step. In her experience, steps were always the harder of the two- and for Reggie? She was happy to take as many steps as were needed. So with her heart beating a frantic tempo, Harper nodded. “Looks like my fate is in your hands, Reggie Cliffton, because that sounds perfect.”

#*para: all #*para: 011 #*c: harper #*para: harper #// this wasn't supposed to be a flashback para but now it is and SOMEHOW THAT'S WORSE

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justlurkingintheshadows · 6 years

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The true evil of RWBY

We all know Salem is meant to be the big bad and Ozpin (who we now know as Ozma but will be referred to as Oz to make like easier) is the one meant to be the good guy, tasked with destroying her, however I find him to be questionable, in fact volume 5 kept lowering my opinion of him ever further. My friend and I like to roleplay and make more of a character out of characters, you'd expect us to have Oz as a good guy and Salem as a bad guy but actually it's quite the opposite, Salem is generally our favourite character, she's a fierce beauty and we know barely anything about her (or at least before V6 we knew nothing but hooray for lore) we've come up with our own headcanons, we usually see her as a fair boss or loving mom, and Ozpin barely has a second thought, maybe sometimes we've thought of him as an ex love, or the opposite side to her but really we don't think about him much, reason being because we don't particularly like him, don't get me wrong he has a great character but like I said, I find him questionable and I'll tell you why in just a moment. Chapter 3 of Volume 6 showed us exactly what happened over a thousand years ago with the Gods of Light and Darkness and Salem and Ozma and answered a lot of our questions, but it got me thinking about who the real villian is, of course it's Salem but when you break down the four characters you begin to realise it's not all black and white...

The Gods

So we finally got to meet the brothers we've heard of only in stories by a campfire. The God of Light (GoL) and the God of Darkness (GoD) are two new interesting characters we had the misfortune of meeting, and yes it is misfortune. Good ol' GoL denied Salem of her love, refusing to bring him back, that's fair, and GoD brought him back but later destroyed him when he found out he was Salem's second choice after his brother, that's also fair, except he brought him back without question in the first place, likely appreciating that someone actually came to see him (but I won't get into the precious GoD headcanon). For her actions Salem was cursed by GoL with immortality, and told she must learn the importance of life, and this turned out to be the biggest mistake he ever made and you'll see why in a bit.

Upon Salem's betrayal GoD destroys THE ENTIRE planet, instead of simply taking away all magic (Salem's too), or condemning Salem to external purgatory, or literally anything else, instead he just decides to effectively Thanos snap the entire planet because one bitch did a thing, thousands of completely innocent lives, gallant warriors, and dutiful worshippers gone in a second, and GoL just let's it happen like yep this is completely acceptable. I understand the idea was to punish Salem with a failure so big that there is no possible way she would ever be able to undo it but they still kept Salem there... With hope that she could change and see the importance of life... But if there is no life how can she learn it's importance...

And then there's the fact they just up and abandoned that entire planet, then destroyed the moon as a f*** you, because there was no need for that really.

If you thought the world was a lost cause why not wipe the slate clean and start anew, why would you ever trust humans to set aside their differences and unite themselves, humans are incapable I mean look at our Earth for example, there will always be something they find to cause conflict, and everyone will never get along, it's impossible, and how can there be any good without the bad to balance it, there was likely conflict even with the Gods there so what hope is there without them... Well actually I believe that hope was Oz and Salem...

Salem

Now sure Salem was an arrogant demanding bitch when Ozma died and she called the Gods monsters for taking him away from her again and again even though they were probably just trying to keep the natural balance of life and death in check, and I know she kinda rallied the humans to try to take down the Gods but really... It's not that bad. I know that sounds insane but hear me out, her punishment could have been a lot worse, and she could have found another way, I mean she could certainly take her time to come up with a plan that's for sure. She got punished with eternal life, now for some that would be a blessing, getting to live forever, never having to fear death, and of course watching everyone you've ever loved fade away around you as their lives come to an end and yours keeps on going... doesn't sound too fun actually... But this was her punishment for betraying the Gods, and she had to learn her lesson, learn the importance of life, you'd think with eternal life that would be a synch... WRONG, the worst thing you could ask of an immortal being is to learn about the importance of life, what does life mean to someone who never dies? It means that no matter what mortals will come and go but you will stay forever as you are, you're guaranteed to outlive anyone and everyone you meet, losing people constantly, it makes you bitter, so you isolate yourself to avoid getting attached and losing them as you know you will again and again, and you become detached, mortal beings have no place in your life because they can never match you, especially when you have magic and they have nothing, why should you care about them when you are in every way superior, you even control their deepest fears (since Salem is basically Queen Grimm thanks to GoD's Grimm pits), and Ozma's own curse makes learning her lesson even worse, he's the only person she loved, and he is cursed to die and be reborn, into a different body, the only death she would care about is his, and if he keeps coming back even as a different person death eventually doesn't bother her, Oz will always come back, and that's a constant so why should mortal death matter when it's not the person she loves. On top of that she is definitely affected by the Grimm desire to destroy things, so she can never be 100% held accountable for her actions after she fell into the pit.

But the biggest point is - Salem was right.

Her suggestion that they forget about the Gods and become their own Gods was sound, sure the gods helped them but it's not like people knew of that now, the Gods abandoned them when their experiment failed and left the saving of the planet to the guy who knew the person to spark all this... Oz and Salem were beings of infinite potential, one can never die, the other will always be ressurected, and both have magic, a thing which no one possesses anymore, following them would be wise, they could have led the humans to a new kind of salvation. Now of course destroying those who don't comply is a little extreme but if Oz talked to her then he could have let her see that there was no need, why force people to follow you when they'll do so of their own accord, and if they don't believe then that's their loss, it's not like they could actually DO anything about it... They couldn't take the two out, they'd always exist, and they have superior power and displayed mastery over using their gifts to destroy Grimm, seriously why wouldn't you want to join their side!

I'm not excusing things she did I'm just saying she was right, and things would be incredibly different in the present had Ozma just talked to her, which brings me smoothly over to him...

Ozma

The glorious Oz, originally Ozma, we know him best as Ozpin, and now as Ozcar, but of course based off the wizard of Oz who was at the end of the story a big fat fraud... Huh... his roots don't seem to really work in his favour...

"Blessed" by the God of Light to experience death in every form and to join with another's soul to be reborn in a cycle that will last for eternity. Really it's more of a curse, dying over and over and over and over and over again doesn't seem too fun, but boy did he come to learn the importance of life because surprise if you have to experience death and live in another's shoes you really start to appreciate what it means to live. No wonder Salem will never learn her lesson, the Gods didn't do her any favours... the same Gods who abandoned their people because their "experiment" failed... and left the saving of the entirety of mankind to one guy just because he knew the person who basically "caused" everything... Whom the Gods created by providing eternal life... because he died and she wanted back but the Gods wouldn't allow it... and their solution was to have her live forever and eventually bring him back to her anyway and have him always be reborn... Seems they contradict themselves too...

Anyway point being Oz didn't seem to have things in his favour from the start, and it only got worse from there...

Turns out Oz has ALWAYS had that issue about not telling people things, it seems his most constant flaw that even thousands of years of dying and taking host of a new body couldn't fix, I mean I understand him to an extent but right at the beginning he didn't tell Salem about GoL's conversation with him straight away, and when he did he kinda just left it at that and didn't talk any more about it... And Salem didn't even seem to really mind (her eyes white showing she was in control and chill), that is she didn't mind until he tried to leave with their kids (eyes turned black with Grimm anger) and the fact he had to have his weapon didn't help him - I'm still not excusing what Salem did though, but they both killed their kids, caught in the crossfire, fatalities of the destruction they both caused.

Before I skip to Ozpin and Ozcar I have a gentle reminder here for you, this revelation came to me when I saw a post about how Ozpin has made more mistakes than everyone combined and one being the fact he had sex with Salem... A Grimm Salem... Multiple times (the exact wording being "Putting my dick in /that/ for starters") however that appendage wasn't his own, you forget at that point he had been shoved into a random guys body and immediately took over and controlled his every action, we know he had barely any care for his vessel or "host" (if we want to start the whole Oz is a virus rant) at the beginning because Jinn tells us that after his fight with Salem he EVENTUALLY learned to live in harmony with the soul who's body he shared... after ruining the lives of a countless many... we also know or rather assume he only suppresses the other soul rather than takes over completely as learned from Ozcar (and potentially Ozpin too), which means there was a suppressed and confused other soul wondering what was going on and being forced to take a back seat watching Ozma do whatever he wanted in a body that didn't belong to him, I can't imagine him actually being ok with this random and extreme series of events, this man watched as Oz made a family with Salem without even a fleeting thought for the man's own family that he no doubt had... And then Oz got this man killed in an unnecessary battle... what a glorious hero...

Anyway grazing over the numerous lives Oz ruined and all the other sh!t he no doubt did that brings us to Ozpin, though we know fairly little we know enough to say that he has a bad habit of doing things like playing the pronoun game, providing half truths, and of course not telling anyone what they actually need to know - "You have silver eyes" yes she does... What about them? (Hype for getting that answer this volume) - he fails to inform people of what matters, preferring to leave that until later when people have already died (including himself, so he is now Ozcar) and people are desperate... Except oh wait sorry he doesn't even tell you then, he holds back mostly everything with the excuse that you don't need to know, and even when he 'tells you everything' you STILL find out he was holding something back... Classic Oz I guess

Now we're on Ozcar and you see that he has a second bad habit of taking over control forcefully, he hasn't learned harmony with the other soul at all, this given how he's lived for the past thousand or so years shows that he hasn't changed, sure he may be 'better' than he was before but he still very much has not changed. Even when he and Oscar apparently talked about that he took over anyway in an attempt to prevent people learning about something he didn't tell them (shocker) except this time the vessel fought back (something I doubt many if any have done before)

All in all he is an extremely questionable character with even more questionable motives.

But as much as it may seem like I'm dragging him through the dirt I won't deny the achievements he HAS managed, the academies for one major thing, it really helped out the world and there'd be a lot more fear and chaos had he not intervened in such a major way, doesn't explain why he likes to throw kids off of cliffs or any of that but still, I'm sure he has his reasons, don't expect him to tell you them though.

He truly has made more mistakes than any man, woman, and child on the planet...

~~~~~~~~

When you really take a look at everything you begin to realise that the Gods kinda set them both up to fail, whether they knew it or not, imagine how different things would have been had a single thing gone differently, and how easily things could have changed

~~~~~~~~

And thus concludes this post, I hope I didn't miss anything (but if I did then oops)

Now I don't know about you but I would totally go up to Salem and tell her she was right, if Tyrian doesn't murder me the immediate second I show up, I've been leaning towards her side more and more since Oz pulled that sketchy move of controlling Oscar without permission (though I do realise death was a possibility it was still sketch) at least she doesn't build your hopes up only for you to discover they're lies, she seems like she'd tell you what's up. But that's just how I've committed think of her I suppose, she is an amazing and beautiful character, who we still don't know all too much about even with this lore... I really hope this means we get more backstories for more villians, I want to see a baby Tyrian.

But I digress.

#rwby #rwby volume 6 #salem #ozma #ozpin #ozcar #oscar #gods of light and darkness #rwby villians #rwby lore #please don't hate me

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earstomy-music · 6 years

Text

Angels and Demons

Characters: Brendon Urie x Reader

Summary: After being broken up with Brendon for a while, he decided to provide some closure.

Words: 1593

Warnings: Angst, cursing, and a sad ending

A/N: First Brendon fic on here :) I apologize for the very vague details about how it ended between Reader and Brendon, but I felt like it was appropriate because there are a lot of things that could’ve went down, so I’ll leave it to your imagination. LIKES, REBLOGGING, AND FEEDBACK ARE ALL ENCOURAGED AND VERY MUCH APPRECIATED!

It’d been the third time you felt like you were being followed that week. Earlier that week, you were strolling through the mall and you saw the same man in a black hoodie behind you every time you turned around. He reminded you of the man you once loved, the two sharing a similar build, similar style, and that same ivory skin. You brushed it off, concluding that you were acting delusional and you left it alone. A couple of days later, you’d finished putting your groceries in your car when you saw a very familiar car parked a few spots away from you. You began to grow fairly suspicious, for this particular car looked exactly like his red 1972 Chevrolet Impala convertible. This was a dead giveaway, but once again, you brushed it off, deciding－hoping－that this would be the last time you’d have to deal with it. You were wrong.

You exited your house to go on a run, hoping that it would clear your mind from the troubles the day had brought you. You discovered that the promotion you were working towards for four months was given to the former intern, who was now the personal assistant of your boss. The new assistant had worn skimpy skirts and revealing blazers each day, so you were sure that their relationship was far from professional. Adding onto that, your computer decided to reboot halfway through the day, which forced you to document everything through paper until your computer was finally useful, and to put the cherry on top of the wonderful cone of bad luck you had that day, one of your co-workers had spilled coffee down your favorite work shirt.

As if the universe was finally giving you some mercy, your run was peaceful. To your surprise, nothing went wrong in the half hour you spent jogging around your community. It was the first time that day you felt your mood increase, but those thirty minutes of bliss were rudely interrupted when you saw him parked ten feet away from your house.

Jogging towards your house, your eyes met with his slender figure, dressed in a simple, white t-shirt and his signature black jeans that were always ripped at the knees. He was leaned against his red convertible, hands comfortably resting in his front pockets as he looked around through his dark, boxed sunglasses.

At this sight you stopped in your tracks, immediately shifting your weight to one legs and crossing your arms over your chest. You scoffed in disbelief, shaking your head when he sat up from the car, straightened his posture, and stalked over to you.

“You know, I didn’t want to believe that it was you following me around this whole week, but who else, other than the infamous Brendon Urie, would?” you spat, not moving a centimeter from your stance when his masculine frame grew closer to your much smaller body.

“You’re an intelligent person, Y/N. I knew you’d catch on.” You rolled your eyes, making sure your annoyance was visible in his line of sight. “What do you want, Brendon?”

“I just wanna talk, darling. That’s all.�� Brendon pushed a strand of your hair away from your face, the cold from his hand transferring to your heated skin as his hand lingered. He spoke like his words were honey, and as long as you could remember, he’s always kept up this suave facade.

“Don’t ‘darling’ me,” you sneered, slapping his hand away from your face. “A normal ex-boyfriend would send a text or call, not stalk them until they got the message.”

“Oh, Y/N. You know far too well that I’m anything but normal. Besides, there’s no fun in that.”

“What do you really want?” you deadpanned, feeling beyond tired of his antics.

“How’ve you been?” he questioned, cocking his head to the right. You narrowed your eyes, your brows seeming to furrow on their own as you felt hot steam blow out of your ears.

“Seriously? ‘How’ve you been?’” you fumed.

“Yeah.” he replied nonchalantly, mirroring your stance by crossing the arms of his own. You laughed in amusement, not being able to comprehend the intentions of the cold-hearted man standing before you.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me, right?” you mused. “Why the fuck do you care, huh?”

“I get why you’re mad, Y/N, but you have to believe that I still love you,” he reasoned, dropping the illusion of his unbothered state and revealing his true emotions. But you weren’t having it.

“Oh, really? You love me?” you challenged, maintaining your tough exterior. “Is that right?”

“Look, I came here to explain. Everything I did was to protect you.”

“Well, that’s precious. You ended our two-year relationship through a text with no explanation and disappeared for five months, leaving me all alone to wonder what I did wrong for you to leave me. You fucking broke me, Brendon. Is that your twisted way of protecting me? Is that what love is to you?” You felt your pent-up anger and your boiling blood flow through your veins as your balled your fists at your sides. You’d failed to keep your cool, but you knew that there was no way you’d be able to.

Brendon chuckled low beneath his breath, feeling the deep waves of his voice rumble inside of you. You began to feel traces of distress pervade throughout your body, causing your arms to shiver and leaving the tips of your fingers cold.

“Love comes in various forms. It’s not a force to take lightly, darling.” Brendon purred, tilting your chin up with his thumb and his pointer finger. Meeting the deep hue of his chocolate brown eyes, you found yourself melting into his touch. You brought yourself back to reality, remembering all the hurt he brought upon you, and you snapped your head to the right, releasing yourself from his grasp. Brendon grinned sinisterly at your reaction, and he smoothly backed himself into the red convertible.

“They say that those in the vulnerable state of love perform the unorthodox. Sounds bizarre, doesn’t it? I mean, you’d think that love would bring out the best in people.” He placed his hands on the hood of the car, leaning over it as he gazed into the setting sun.

“Doing that to you, hurting you like that, was far from easy. Making that decision took far more than the tempestuous journey I thought it would. You weren’t the only one left broken because of it.”

“Then why, Brendon?” you pleaded. “Why did you do it?”

He sighed, taking his gaze away from the sky and focusing it on you, burning his eyes into yours. “You see, some people are devious. They make it seem like they’re completely and utterly innocuous. They’re dangerous, because when you strip them entirely of their exterior shell, you see the frightening reality. You see them for who they really are.”

“Through the mesmerizing jewels you call your eyes, I was perfect. Flawless. There wasn’t anything I did that could pull you away from me until I did what I did.” Brendon, a man with ivory for skin and a mane of black locks smiled at the thought, for he found it impossible, humorous even, to perceive himself with such superiority.

“It terrified me, Y/N. It fucking terrified me. Knowing that you saw me that way, that you loved me for it… I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t let myself pretend to be the mere caricature of what you believed you saw in me. I’m nothing close to who you thought I was.”

“Brendon… What are you talking about?” You begged, slowly stepping closer to the man in front of you. Even after everything that happened, all the pain, confusion, and heartbreak he caused, you still felt a surge of love pouring through you. You couldn’t help but become mesmerized at the sight of him. The deep hue in his eyes showing nothing but affection and care, the sheer fabric of his shirt dancing against his toned body as the wind breezed by, and the way his pink, plump lips pursed together as the wrinkles formed between his eyebrows in distress.

“I’ve tried, Y/N. In the two years we were together, I strived to be the man you deserved, but in the end, it was just simply impractical. Hell, there isn’t a man on Earth worthy enough, because you deserve all the good in the world, Y/N. All the fucking good on this godforsaken planet.”

“No, you were all I wanted, Brendon. You were everything to me, I didn’t need anything else. You gave me all the love and the happiness and… I still love you.” You confessed, tears having a mind of their own as they streamed down your cheeks. An overwhelming rush of pain mixed with love and confusion penetrated through your heart as a sob racked through your body, and your knees buckled, your helpless body pulling to the ground beneath you.

“I’ve always loved you, Y/N, ever since the moment I saw you.” Brendon whispered, kneeling next to you and pulling you into his chest, rubbing your arms as a way to soothe the intensity of your emotions.

“But I’m not what you need. I’m far from being the man you deserve, and because of this, for your sake, I withdrew myself. I left you because, to me, someone with the purity and the wholesomeness of an angel from heaven above should never love someone who was darkened by the demons themselves.”

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galadrieljones · 6 years

Note

Writing question time! I remember you said at one point that you use Abelas as a foil for Solas. Can you elaborate on that? What does a 'foil' mean, technically? How do you go about developing a character to fill that role? And, expanding further, how do you develop characters to be complementary to each other? Is there certain steps you think of, or does it come naturally? I am thinking of Revesan and Rasha, and also of Mythal and Lea? (and personally, I need a friend for Iwyn in modern AUs)

Hey! Yay thank you for the writing question. I am all about this!

A foil is basically a character that is, in some way, complimentary to the protagonist, or just to any other main character in a story. They can be dramatic opposites in many ways, or they can be very alike but just dissimilar in really key ways. The point is that the foil’s traits, in some way, highlight certain important traits in the character they’re foiling. I actually just looked it up on Wikipedia to learn the etymology of the word, and it seems to come from an old-fashioned method of placing foil behind gems inside of jewelry, to make them shine more brightly.

In terms of inventing and developing strong, interesting complimentary characters, here’s one way to boil it down:

You realize that a main character needs to change, or their character needs to be developed in some way You might not even know how they need these things, but you just know they need them. Change and development don’t have to be dramatic. This can just be about deepening character development in some way.

So you introduce a new character (or you reintroduce an old character) as a way of propagating that change/development in some way, as a foil. Usually they come bearing a veiled choice of some sort, or a question, or an opportunity, though not always. They could merely be a consequence of circumstance.

BUT, and this is the really important part: you MUST give the foil character their own life and characterization, independent of the main character. They must be given traits and development of their own, even if it is minor. They must not exist solely for the development of the main character. They cannot be made JUST for the story. They must be a character of their own–one that can also be “foiled.”

The easy mistake to make: The problem with a lot of foil characters is that, too often, they don’t seem to exist for any other reason than to compliment the main character. This sort of thing can be found in a lot of romantic comedies, ie: the “best friend” character. The best friend usually exists only as a sounding board, to offer encouragement and resources to the leading lady, and to be a quirky, off-beat comparison who never exists in competition. She is not a true foil, though she’s acting like one in the story. But she has no actual characterization of her own (beyond the most surface-level traits). So she’s not really a character at all. She’s just like, a symbol. She’s just furniture. Very comfy furniture for the leading lady to sit on whenever times get rough.

How I write complimentary characters: I am usually, to some extent, aware of how characters foil each other when I write them. Especially in the beginning. I develop the relationship between the two characters using scenes in which they talk and cooperate, sometimes in which they argue, depending on their dynamic and/or where we are in the plot of the story. I am usually pretty conscious of what kinds of characterization I need to develop with each scene, as well as what kinds of plot or actions I need to address, and so I choose the situation for each scene pretty carefully, and I try to vary my scenes as much as possible, and also to choose off, unexpected situations for my scenes, as a way of exploring characterization in new, challenging ways. So like, not every scene can be a conversation over a meal, or driving in a car. There has to be something else. I also pay close attention to the dialogue between foil characters, to make sure that they’re not just talking back and forth, answering each other one-to-one, but that they speak in accordance with their own individual agendas and interests.

Sometimes, I also develop my characters and their relationships by having them do something very mundane together, something that’s off-topic, occupying themselves, but together. Being alone together, and letting their actions communicate their individual characteristics, and how those characteristics are complimentary to one another. Sometimes, you can have a third character there as a sort of anchor. This kind of scene, I’ve found, is especially useful when writing romantic relationships–making sure that complimentary characters exist independently, without constant verbal interaction, and developing their complimentary traits via action, and also separately, not always in conversation with one another. Even if characters are talking to each other, they can be doing separate things. This is a really good way to make sure that foils (and secondary characters in general) are not just like, sounding boards there to serve the main character.

Basically, at some point, foils must be more than foils in order to be interesting. They must be real. They must have backstories and lives, wants and desires and fears, even if those things are only implied in small ways. I think that’s the hardest part, and the part to be most aware of when writing ALL characters, ie: to NOT just think of them as foils, but as simply characters. Most characters are complimentary to the protagonist, and to each other, in SOME way.

Abelas and Solas

Abelas is a foil for Solas because he is a lot like Solas, but he is drastically different from Solas in very important ways that call attention to Solas’s vulnerabilities. Both Solas and Abelas were recruited by Mythal when they were teenagers. They are huge ancient elves with a lot of power, and they have tragic backstories involving the deaths of one or more immediate family members. They were ranked #1 and #2 in Mythal’s armies during the Great War of Elvhenan, and in The Dead Season, they are both, at some point in the story, attracted to Sene. One could also argue that Sene is attracted to them both at some point as well. They both abuse substances to cope with their problems, and they both have a lot of trauma that they’re trying to overcome.

But Abelas is simpler than Solas. At some point, Mythal describes him as a “uncomplicated.” She says that “he is not like Solas” because “he sees things for what they are, and he goes right to them. He is practical.” Abelas is hyper-literal, where Solas hyper-analytical. Abelas knows how to let go of control. He understands that happiness is a state of mind, and that all he must do is reach that state of mind, and then, he can be happy. Solas is highly controlling. He overanalyzes every last step he must take on his journey toward happiness, and he must do this because it allows him to feel in control. So when Abelas and Solas meet in Crestwood, and Abelas begins interrogating Solas on what is going on with this Dalish girl, he is literally just asking. He just wants to know. But Solas is overanalyzing the entire situation, and he’s reading all sorts of things into Abelas’s questions. He distrusts Abelas, becomes defensive, gets angry, then realizes he has lost, and gives up. These are vulnerable moments for Solas. It was hard for me to write Solas’s vulnerabilities at first, because he’s so confident in his exterior, and so charming and intelligent, and so strong. But when seated across from Abelas, who is exactly like him in almost every way, except for in this one key way–his ability to just see and deal with things for what they are, WITHOUT over-complicating–he turns to mush in like half a scene. It felt great to write it lol.

Revasan and Rasha

With Revasan and Rasha–they are foils for one another, because Rasha is HIGHLY docile where Revasan is HIGHLY willful. Also, Rasha is incredibly patient where Rev is incredibly impatient. With her, however, he is suddenly both calm and patient. She brings out the best in him, or at least the quiet. Meanwhile, Revasan is a challenge for Rasha. She is a little too submissive at times, too indecisive, too unsure of herself. But Rev is assertive and confident, and he believes in her, and she wants to meet his hopes and appreciation for her hidden strengths, because she loves him, so with him, she is stronger.

Lea and Mythal

Lea and Mythal are also good foils. They are very similar in many ways. Both were born into extraordinary wealth and bred to be the heads of their houses. But where Mythal took up her mantle, forgoing love and a normal life for status and power, Lea escaped, giving up her and status and power for love. Meanwhile, Lea is funny and lighthearted and playful, where Mythal is serious and dour and easily offended. Lea is practical where Mythal is highly impractical, and extremely high maintenance. Lea makes Mythal laugh and provides her with perspective on her petty dramas, while Mythal allows Lea to feel needed (a compulsion just like her son’s), and her seriousness reminds Lea that all they have experienced is real, and that she cannot hide forever behind her humor and her charm. Mythal is a reminder of Lea’s particular darkness as well–maybe more so to the reader. Lea is an evanuris, and while she may have been hidden away in the attic before, she lives now, full power in a world that, if they knew everything, would fear her. Meanwhile, for Mythal, Lea is a reminder that life is full of second chances–something that Mythal desperately needs to believe if she is to go on. They are foils.

Random foil-y scenes from The Dead Season that come to mind:

Solas and Abelas (first meeting in Crestwood) - Abelas is foiling Solas

Sene, Solas, and Kieran (peeling potatoes at Suledin Keep) - Kieran is foiling them both

Sene and Solas (right before closing the rift in Crestwood) - Solas is foiling Sene

Solas and Dorian (at the tavern in Sahrnia) - Solas is foiling Dorian

Solas and Daniel (outside the Hanged Man in Kirkwall) - Daniel is foiling Solas

Solas and Deshanna (at the Lavellan farm in Ansburg) - Deshanna is foiling Solas

Solas and Revasan (at the Lavellan farm in Ansburg) - Revasan is foiling the literal shit out of Solas

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littlemissfundip · 6 years

Text

All the Way Down the Rabbit Hole

Fandom: Dragon Age Inquisition

Pairing: Grazham Trevelyan/Robert de Somonte

Summery: Due to a series of unfortunate events Grazham and Robert find themselves stuck in some rather inhospitable dwarven ruins. Then come the spiders.

Note: A Cristmas trade for the lovely @mureh as part of the @daficswap. It was an honour to write for your babies. I hope I did them justice. Had to repost this because apparently Tumblr’s entire system wants me dead and flat out refused to let me tag anyone.

“This is a very bad idea.” Robert said for what felt like the hundredth time.

If Grazham were in the mood to be honest with himself he might have agreed.

The long forgotten tunnel they traversed was littered with debris. Some little more than piles of dirt but others formed more intimidating obstacles, forcing the pair to climb, crawl, and shimmy to pass further.

It was by no means a safe nor sane place to go wandering but there were things to be done and if Grazham were to wait for what was safe or sane he would never get anything done.

Robert had been vocal enough about his doubts both back at Skyhold when Grazham had first agreed to the task and later before entering the mouth of the tunnel. As they descended though, Robert’s concerns became more frequent until it had become almost a sort of chant.

“So you’ve said,” Grazham sighed, allowing the smallest amount of exasperation to sneak into his voice. “Several times, in fact.”

He appreciated the concern, truly he did, but there were times when Robert’s kind attention felt too much. Too cloying. Too much like something he didn’t deserve. It made his words sharp, though he always found himself regretting them later.

“That being said, you didn’t have to come.” He continued, using his stave to nudge aside what appeared to be the remains of some timber braces. Chunks of dirt showered the floor as well as both men, but the tunnel held so Grazham foraged on ahead. “I’m sure the others could make better use of your mothering.”

It was meant as a joke but the long beat of silence that followed made Grazham flinch uncomfortably.

Perhaps he had gone too far, overstepped his bounds. He didn’t want to drive Robert away; quite the opposite, but it was difficult not to push. Difficult not to pursue.

Especially when he wasn’t sure Robert wanted to be pursued.

Thankfully, Robert broke the heavy silence easily, his voice so gentle that it actually hurt a little to hear it aloud.

“I would never leave you alone in a place like this,” said Robert seriously. His gaze never wavered, not even for a moment, as he stared into Grazham’s eyes.

The force of it, the sincerity in his gaze was too much for Grazham. Glancing away he could feel his cheeks burn and his heart thump uncomfortably in his chest.

It was unfair how Robert could throw him into turmoil so easily. For a man who showed so little interest in romance he let honeyed words drip from his lips far too easily.

“W-well it is strange that there would be an elven artifact hidden in such a place.” Trying desperately to change the subject before he said something he regretted, Grazham glanced around at their surroundings. “Why would they hide it in a thaig of all places?”

“Perhaps it’s some sort of mistake?” Robert suggested, so hopefully that Grazham couldn’t help but smirk.

“Do you want to be the one to tell Solas you think he’s made a mistake?”

Roberts face shifted for a moment, cycling between emotions until he finally settled on resignation. It was clear that he knew as well as Grazham what awaited down that path.

A long and undoubtedly boring lecture about the history of the artifact as well as the thaig, and the entire history of elfdom if Solas had his way. Ending with them exactly where they were now.

“Point taken,” Robert sighed, his shoulders sagging in defeat.

With no further arguments to be levied, Robert could do little but follow as Grazham led them down into the darkness.

By the time they reached the thaig’s door it became apparent that Grazham was lucky that Robert had chosen to stay. It took the both of them to force away the heavy stone door that blocked the entrance. Together they managed to shift it just enough that they could squeeze through, though it was a tight fit.

Despite its title, the thaig in question certainly failed to live up to its name.

The room, barely larger than the main hall at Skyhold, was so decrepit that it looked ready to fall in on their head should they even sneeze wrong. It was unclear whether piles of rubble lined the walls or if the walls themselves had turned to rubble.

All in all it was underwhelming to be certain.

Raising his torch higher, Grazham took in what he could of the room. From what he could see there were no obvious signs of any artifacts but that didn’t mean there was nothing to be found.

At least he hoped not.

“Did Solas at least give us some sort of clue as to where this elven whatever might be hidden?” asked Robert, similarly daunted by the enormity of their task.

Reaching into the hidden pockets of his robes Grazham pulled out the notes Solas had given him. Lowering his torch Grazham stared down at the pages.

Solas’ writing was neat and clear and complete gibberish. Any landmarks that they might have used were long since gone and the dwarven map he’d provided was equally useless.

Shifting up behind, Robert watched from over Grazham’s shoulder, wincing at the now useless direction. Whoever these dwarves were they were about as good map makers as they were architects.

Turning the map this way and that, Grazham tried to make sense of it all. If he could get some sort of bearing it would be a start at least.

“I think it’s…over here” he said slowly, gesturing towards what he hoped was the north-east facing rubble wall.

To be honest Grazham wasn’t entirely sure that it was the right direction. To a point it all sort of looked the same. But standing around wasn’t going to accomplish anything and it was as good a starting point as any. So, as confidently as he could muster, Grazham head off in the most likely direction.

Together, torches in hand, they began to search.

It was filthy work, moving rocks, shifting through dirt and refuse. Any time something was moved, even down to the smallest pebble it seemed, debris would rain down from the ceiling. Dusting the pair in…well, Grazham preferred not to think about what it was too deeply.

In the dark it was hard to tell how much time had passed. By Grazham’s estimation it felt somewhere in the range of a thousand years.

Every pile of rocks and rubble yielded the same thing. Nothing.

It was by a simple stroke of luck that they found anything at all.

As they passed a partially collapsed wall, Robert paused.

“Is something the matter?” asked Grazham.

Robert reached over, tugging the parchment gently from Grazham’s hands. Glancing down at it, he leaned in closer to the wall, lowering his torch to get a better look.

“I think,” he said slowly, his fingertips tracing over the runes carved into the wall, “this may be what’s on Solas’ map.”

Glancing around, his eyes finally settled on what looked to be a stray pile of slate.

“If this marking is correct the chest should be over there.”

Working together, they managed to drag the heavy stones free. Finally a flash of silver emerged, uncovering to form a tarnished silver chest.

It was old. Not as old as the thaig, but still ancient. Even on the darkened metal Grazham could make out what looked to be elven markings.

“Is that it?” Robert whispered inspecting the box from every angle as though suspicious of its contents. “Are we sure it’s not a trap?”

Reaching out Grazham cast a half smile in Robert’s direction.

“I certainly hope not,” he joked lightly, though his heart pounded loudly in his ears, “or we are dead and have yet to find out.”

Perhaps it would have been more prudent to wait for someone who could disarm any possible traps but truth be told Grazham was more than a little tired of this particular task.

He was tired and covered head to toe in who knows what. Trap or no he was more than ready to be done with the whole thing.

Grabbing hold of the heavy metal clasp, Grazham heaved the lid open. When no heat, or pain, or blinding light followed he let out a small breath of relief and peaked further into the box.

There on the bottom was a small silver amulet. It matched Solas’ description perfectly and Grazham wasted no time snatching it up.

“Well that, as they say, is that,” Grazham said confidently, tucking the amulet into his belt pouch. “I would almost call it too easy.”

“From your mouth to the Maker’s ears,” Robert chided gently, though his tone held no serious scolding. “Though I might agree with you once I’m reminded of what the sun looks like.”

Grazham was about to respond with something reasonably witty when a low sound caught his ears. Raising a hand he cocked his head to the side, listening carefully into the darkness. Then he heard it again. The soft skittering hiss of movement across stone.

Grazham barely had time to toss aside his torch and free his stave before the spiders burst from the darkness. Massive furry monstrosities they almost looked like an encroaching wave of shadows themselves.

With barely a moment to think, Grazham swung out at the monsters. Grimacing as his stave connected he followed up with a fireball for good measure.

The scent of charred flesh filled the air but Grazham did not let it distract him.

From the corner of his eye he could see Robert take out yet another spider with his oversized sword. Alternating clumsily between his sword and his torch to keep the remaining few at bay.

His face was twisted into a grimace, as it always was when he was forced into battle.

Still, Grazham felt his chest clench disconcertingly at the sight of it. In the low light Robert’s skin seemed to glow like he was made of gold. The shadows casting his high cheekbones and squared jaw into sharp relief.

There was an intensity to it. The gap between Robert’s normal gentle self at the violence he was forced to defend himself against. Grazham could not find it in him to look away.

Normally Grazham would have scolded himself for such a slip. In battle such distraction could leave one cold on the ground. This one time though, it turned out to be a blessing as, if it weren’t for his foolish staring, he might not have noticed the lone spider skittering down the wall at Robert’s back.

There was no time to think. Too late to call out and to risky to cast a spell Grazham only had one option left.

With a force that surprised even himself, Grazham launched himself at the spider, swinging his stave with all his might. The barbed edge of his staff connected with its rounded abdomen with a wet thump that Grazham could feel all the way up his arms.

He’d made it. He’d made it in time.

A wave of relief washed over him. That relief was sadly short lived though as a sharp crack reverberated throughout the room

Immediately, almost unconsciously his eyes sought out Robert’s. He was far enough away that no matter what happened he’d at least be safe. At least there was that to be thankful for.

That was all Grazham had time for as the world was devoured by darkness.

Grazham felt like he was swimming.

Or at least what he imagined swimming would feel like. Weightless and warm, he drifted through the comfortable darkness

It was familiar, this feeling of nothingness. A single moment where the darkness closed in, gentle and comforting. A moment where there were no responsibilities. No demands. Only peace.

Still, perhaps it was not truly nothing.

In the back of his mind Grazham could feel the slightest of twinges. A pinprick of something he was supposed to remember. Something he was supposed to do. A place he was supposed to be.

It was little; barely even a whisper at first, but the feeling grew. Like grasping hands it dragged him from the darkness and the world seemed to explode with light.

The first thing Grazham became aware of as he was dragged back to the world of the living was starbursts of pain radiating from…well from everywhere actually. It felt like he’d been kicked by a halla. Repeatedly.

The second thing he became aware of though was the panicked muttering of a familiar voice.

“I thought,” Grazham managed to push past numb lips, “that you didn’t curse.”

Hands scrambled to move him upright. Though careful of his injuries the movement was far from pleasant. It was only when Robert had settled him back against one of the larger stones that he found he could breathe normally again.

“You must have misheard,” replied Robert, though there was far more relief than teasing. “We should have the other healers take a look at your ears when we get back to Skyhold.”

Grazham couldn’t hold back a chuckle even though it rattled his lungs and made his bones ache. Mentally he began to take stock of his injuries.

His ribs felt bruised, making every breath a trial and his head felt strange. Any movement too sharp sent the room spinning. Worst of all was his ankle which ached fiercely. Probably sprained in the fall but there was still a chance something had broken. All in all not he’d been spared the worst of it but the news still wasn’t good.

Grimacing Grazham reached for his staff. His other wounds hurt but his ankle was definitely the most pressing if they wanted to move any time soon. As he reached though, he found his hand grasping empty air.

Glancing around a cold wave of apprehension dawned.

“Have you seen my staff,” he asked, hoping that perhaps Robert had moved it somewhere for safety.

It was the sort of thing he’d do.

There was an unnaturally long pause and immediately Grazham knew the answer wouldn’t be good. If that hadn’t been such a giveaway the look on Roberts face said more than enough.

Slowly Robert reached behind, pulling forth familiar wood and metal. Well, familiar except for the fact that it was in far more pieces than the last time Grazham had seem it.

With a groan Grazham took the splintered staff from Robert, looking over the damage. It was in four pieces, one large and three small. Far too many to be of any use.

“And it was my favourite too,” he sighed, running his finger over the scarred wood.

“I’m so sorry.”

Grazham shook his head.

“It is no huge loss. Better my staff than my neck after all,” the jest was weak but it was enough to make Robert smile if only a little. “But it does mean that I am going to be stuck here for quite a while.”

“What?” Robert’s expression seemed to waver between surprise and concern. “Can’t you heal yourself? You’ve done it before.”

“Not like this,” glancing down at his staff Grazham bit back a shout of frustration. With their luck it would bring the whole thaig down on their heads. “I don’t know how damaged the bone is. If it’s broken I don’t want to risk healing it without setting it first and without my staff to work as a focus…”

Grazham trailed off, not wanting to finish the thought. Without a focus and with his head feeling like it were about to pop off and float away he knew he was in no condition to even light a candle using his magic, never mind perform a complex healing spell.

“Oh, well I guess we’ll have to make do then.” With what Grazham could only assume was meant to be a reassuring grin, Robert reached into his pack pulling out a small handful of handkerchiefs. “I always carry some just in case. They’re not ideal but they’ll serve.”

Knotting the pile of linens end to end, Robert set about wrapping Grazham’s foot as best he could.

It was a painful process and Grazham tried his best not to cry out, but each tug of cloth sent a bolt of pain shooting up his leg.

Gritting his teeth, Grazham began to search for a distraction. Something, anything to keep his mind off the pain. After all it would be unseemly for the great Inquisitor to swoon like an Orlesian noble just because of such a small wound.

There was precious little in the thaig worthy of any interest, so Grazham let his gaze fall on Robert.

It was a nice view to be sure.

His sweat soaked hair curled wildly about his face, even more so than usual. Even filthy and covered in spider blood Robert was lovely. The look of concentration on his face, so at odds with the gentle ministrations of his hands.

Had he the ability Grazham would have loved to paint it. To preserve the way Robert looked in this moment.

Biting his lip, Grazham felt his heart lurch unpleasantly.

It was unfortunate that Robert seemed so oblivious to Grazham’s yearning. As though every flirtation and innuendo missed him entirely.

Unless he did know, but simply abhorred the thought of being with Grazham. Disgusted by his advances but too polite to say.

Suddenly Grazham’s heart hurt far more than his ankle.

Desperately he tried to cut off the unwelcome line of thought before it went too far. Choosing to focus on a stray curl that curved along the shell of Robert’s ear, as opposed to the way his heart seemed to be making a concerted effort to tear its self from his chest.

It wasn’t like Robert only behaved that way with Grazham in particular. In fact, he seemed generally perplexed by the art of romance altogether. Though warm and kind to all, Grazham had never seen him pursue anyone. Choosing instead to focus on what he considered more important things.

That thought was far more comforting indeed. Though Grazham couldn’t help but wish that perhaps he weren’t so disinterested in matters of the heart. It was a far better alternative to Robert despising him in secret.

“There,” Robert said suddenly, breaking Grazham from his musings. “It’s not perfect but it should hold.”

Gently Robert patted the now bandaged ankle. Grazham was relieved to find it no longer ached so sharply, instead diminishing to a low pulse.

Still, movement was difficult and Grazham could tell that the moment he put any weight on it the pain would return.

There was only one solution left and Robert was definitely not going to like it.

“You should go back by yourself,” Grazham blurted out. Hoping that if he said the words quickly enough that Robert might not have enough presence of mind to argue.

Unfortunately, the tactic was less than effective.

“What?”

It was not a question despite its phrasing.

Suddenly every other object in the room seemed more pressing than Robert’s eyes. At least the spider corpses didn’t stare at him with a painful mixture of hurt and sadness.

“I can’t walk like this,” Grazham soldiered on, though still unable to meet Robert’s eyes. “The castle isn’t that far. You could ride for help and be back far more quickly without me.”

“Surely you don’t expect me to leave you here?” Robert’s voice sounded pained, as though he were the one who was hurt by the mere suggestion.

Gathering his courage Grazham turned to stare directly into Robert’s eyes. He was prepared for the agitation and hidden stubbornness he knew he would find in them.

The only way that Robert would ever agree was if Grazham used logic to persuade him. Otherwise they’d be left arguing until the death of the world.

“It’s more efficient this way,” Grazham insisted, holding Robert’s gaze. “You know as well as I that it will take an eternity if you are forced to match my pace and with so much debris blocking the passage who knows where we will be forced to stop.”

Despite the mutinous look on his face Robert appeared to be listening at the very least. It was certainly a blessing for Grazham because he wasn’t sure what he would have done in the face of any more arguments.

“If it’s you alone,” Grazham continued, “you know where the exit is and you’re faster than I am anyway.”

The small joke seemed to fall flat in the heavy air between them, but Grazham held firm. This was for the best. Robert had to see that.

Finally Robert broke first, looking away with a sigh of resignation.

“I don’t want to go.” He said finally.

Thankfully it seemed to be more of a statement than an argument because he began to pack up none the less. There was a set to his shoulders though, a stiffness to his movements that said that he wanted to be doing anything but.

It made Grazham feel for the man. Were their positions reversed it would have taken the business end of a sword to make him leave but there was no other choice.

“I know.” Said Grazham as comfortingly as he could. It might not have been the most eloquent of responses but it was all he had. “Just bring Bull back with you alright? I’d hate for him to miss this.”

That was enough to force a small smile from Robert. Bull would likely laugh himself silly at the Inquisitor being taken out by a pile of rocks but he was one of the few people Grazham trusted to carry his sorry arse out of this forsaken hole in the ground.

With nothing left to pack and no more procrastination he could manage, Robert cast one last long look at Grazham.

“I’ll be back,” Robert promised solemnly, as though Grazham had any doubts.

And with those last parting words, he disappeared around a corner, taking the last of the light with him.

As the darkness closed in, Grazham leaned back and closed his eyes. There was very little point in keeping them open when he couldn’t see anything anyways. Not that there was much to look at even with the light.

Even without the pain from his leg to distract him Grazham was not confident that he could summon even the smallest ball of light without something going horribly awry. With no present danger and nowhere to go it was simply not worth the risk.

So, with little else to do, Grazham settled in for a long wait.

After a while, when he’d finally exhausted every tavern song and ballad he could recall off the top of his head, Grazham found his mind beginning to wander.

The darkness of the thaig was so different from the darkness he had awoken from. There was no feeling of warmth or comfort. No, this darkness felt colder, almost lonely.

It pressed in on all sides until Grazham felt like he was buried beneath it. Like the thaig had become a tomb, which it likely would be if Robert didn’t return with help.

The thought, surprisingly, was not as troubling as it should have been.

Maybe I deserve this, Grazham thought to himself and somehow it didn’t feel wrong in the slightest.

He had hurt so many people. Done things that could not be forgiven. Perhaps this was his penance. To remain here in the darkness. Alone and forgotten. It was nothing less than he deserved.

Here he was no longer a danger to the world. Locked away safely from all those who wished to hurt him and those whom he would hurt in return. In a way it was freeing. No responsibilities. No voices clambering at him to make their decisions for them. Decisions that could mean life or death. Not only for himself but for so many innocent souls as well.

It felt almost as though, in place of darkness surrounding him, those souls he held in his hands were pressing in on him instead. Chaining him to the stone at his back like a criminal and Grazham, for his part, was content to let them.

Grazham wasn’t sure what he became aware of first. The red behind his eyelids or the hand clenched almost painfully around his wrist.

When he opened his eyes though, the first thing that filled his vision was Robert’s worried face. A part of Grazham wanted to reach up and smooth the creases from his brow. But his could not find the strength to move even a single finger

“Thank the Spirits you’re alright,” Robert said, his panic slowly diminishing though his grip on Grazham’s wrist did not. “When I saw you lying there I thought you’d…I thought were hurt.”

“I’m fine. I was just…” Grazham trailed off, realizing that Robert had barely been gone long at all. Certainly not long enough for him to get to Skyhold and back. “I thought you were getting help?”

For a moment Robert’s expression changed. He could not meet Grazham’s eyes and if Grazham hadn’t know better he’d have almost called it bashful. Then his face smoothed to something more familiar.

“I did not go for help.”

Mystified Graham couldn’t help but stare.

“Didn’t go for help but why…?”

Grazham’s question was cut off as Robert stood. Using the wrist he still had in his grip he pulled hard on Grazham’s arm.

“Apologies,” Robert muttered as he tucked himself under Grazham’s arm, stabilizing his bad leg. “This will likely hurt but please endure it.”

Grazham knew his expression probably looked like that of a beached fish but he could do little to push past the confusion of Robert’s sudden return.

They were already at the entrance to the thaig before he could form a cogent response.

“Wait a moment,” Grazham protested, though he still allowed Robert to pull him along. “I’m far too heavy for you to carry like this. It will take twice as long if we do it this way and that’s assuming we make it at all.”

Robert said nothing, instead choosing to help the both of them past the thaig entrance and out into the tunnel.

“You don’t have to force yourself like this.” Grazham continued, desperate for Robert to see reason. He had to see how mad this was. “I was just fine on my own.”

“I know.”

The words, so even and matter-of-fact, stilled Grazham’s tongue though his jaw dropped open slightly in surprise.

“I would not have left you there had I not thought you’d be safe,” said Robert calmly, as though Grazham was a fool for thinking otherwise.

It was infuriating. Grazham simply could not understand. They had a plan. A good one. Why would Robert take such a risk, seemingly for no reason at all?

“Then why?” he snapped, only partially regretting his harsh tone.

Thankfully Robert did not mind in the slightest.

“Did I not tell you,” said Robert, his smile gone soft as he glanced helplessly up at Grazham with a shrug, “that I would never leave you alone in a place like this?”

Whatever Grazham had been thinking, whatever he might have said next vanished in a puff of smoke as a rush of warmth permeated his being. The chill that resided in his bone, always present though usually hidden, seemed to evaporate in the face of Robert’s shy smile.

It was so much like looking at the sun that Grazham was forced to look away. Left scrambling for words that did not make him sound like a lovesick fool.

“Next time Solas can go find his own damned artifacts.” He managed to grumble out, still unable to look at Robert though his grip may have tightened ever so slightly.

Robert let out a sharp laugh that Grazham could feel in his core. A reminder of how close they were pressed.

“Agreed.”

All in all it had been quite a day, Grazham mused. A journey down a hole, attacked by spiders, crushed by rock, and finally dragged back out of said hole by a handsome lunatic. His ankle ached fiercely and he wasn’t sure he would ever be clean no matter how long he soaked.

Still, being pressed close to Robert that he could feel the very beat of his heart, Grazham couldn’t remember ever being so warm.

#daficswap #muher #dai:i #dragon age fanfiction #Christmas swap #I really like Grazham #he seems like a very cute mess #which are the kind of characters I love to write #nothing like a trapped in ruins plot to get the romantic juices flowing #I hope you like it

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