#can you tell that I am really done being told to assimilate?
Note
Juli
I'M BACK (I never left, it just took me a while to respond because I need to think about my answers otherwise I'll ramble on ad infinitum and college beats me eh). I love talking to you so I hope it's not a problem I'll keep asking you stuff about these fascinating characters (The Plinth) and any other topics because I love your ideas and your takes.
About your reply on AO3, I can promise that I will start doing my own HCs on Strabo and Ma and you will be the first person I will show it to when I have written it. I must also say that I agree with you: while ships and romantic relationships are amazing to explore, platonic and familial relationships are just as interesting and deserve to have their fics and hc and analysis within the fandom. (Can we talk about the potential of Lysistrata as a possible friend of Sejanus in canon?)
Before I start with my rant of the movie (it's finally here, another day we will continue with the many other things like the war in Two, First Quarter Quell, etc jsjsjfjs) I come to pass you the link of the fic I mentioned and also to recommend you a new series of fics that recently appeared centered on Baby Sejanus during the war (please tell me what do you think!!!)
1. Bullets Over Two
It is being update I must warn but what is there is for now, is very good!
2. All I Long for is Home (Little Sejanus series)
I really thought it was magical when they sent the link on discord for this series. It has everything we love: Baby Sejanus, studied the dynamics of the Plinth and their experiences during the war!
Speaking of the Plinth. I think its function is both ways: they are clearly the immigrant experience and the difficulties of forced assimilation of coming from another country as identity crises but also USA is a very large nation and as you say, the culture shock within its own territory is enormous and continues to reproduce these dynamics of discrimination.
Ah yes I send you a big hug for the mockery. People really can be cruel. I don't get it, to me it seems like such a nice way to call mothers. 🥺
In my case I'm from the capital but my father is not, he came from a state and has told me a couple of truly traumatic experiences about the problem of fitting in. Ah
But well. The time has come for the rant.
First I would like to clarify that I loved the movie. Great cast, great direction, costumes and cinematography. The soundtrack is a fucking work of art. Iconic enough that I will forgive them for not adapting the snowjanus song from the book. I also think Coriolanus and Lucy Gray had more than satisfying and well done arcs.
In fact there were some changes to the story they made in the movie that seem to me to be great additions or reinterpretations of the text (Example. making Felix the president's son, killing him and having Dr. Gaul use his death to interrupt Reaper's act of direct rebellion -another change that as you can see I am into it-, Tigris serving with that line "You look like your father, Coriolanus", etc).
I don't have a problem with any of that. My big conflict comes down to their portrayal of the Plinth and the Academy students (I'm mostly talking about Clemensia but I didn't limit myself to her). As I said before the absence of the Plinth (Ma and Strabo) seems problematic to me, because they will be the worst crime of Coriolanus. They are the proof of how many limits he is willing to cross to get to power while being the force that is able to allow him to fulfill those ambitions. It's fucked up and very necessary to show in order to understand Snow.
I understand that the time was probably here what contributed to the fact that we only got to see them in a small cameo but gosh I think one scene. One little scene they could have given us. Besides it wouldn't have been a waste, because a lot of information about the Snow's we found out in relation to the Plinth.
What can I say?, I just feel sad every day that we don't have the scene of Coriolanus and Strabo talking in the movie. It's such a short but intense conversation.
With Sejanus my biggest complaint is that because the involvement of his family and family history is almost nonexistent, viewers of the film alone don't know a lot of much needed facts about who he is to see his nuances and there were changes that worked against reflecting his character as well as his situation.
The most extreme example that we have discussed before is the Sandwiches scene. In the movie, the credit is taken away from Sejanus, who was the only one to be concerned about the welfare of the tributes in the book. He was the first to try to approach them not to put on a show like Coriolanus but to try to offer them dignified treatment.
That Sejanus brought so much food. That he did not give up even though at the beginning no tribute wanted to approach and in the end his thing with Marcus will not be settled are actions that speak a lot about who he is. Since such actions don't take place in the film, it leaves an incomplete understanding of the character (which leads people in tiktok to have the worst takes on him in the world).
But this doesn't just happen with poorly executed scenes, it's present even in well done scenes like Sejanus responding to Arachne's bad comments. While it's a scene I adored and establishes well that Sejanus and his fellow academy members live in very different worlds, I don't think it quite captures Sejanus' situation well.
Although inferred, in reality outside of disagreements of opinion there is little in the film that if you don't know the context of the book, tells you very clearly that Sejanus has been harassed and bullied by his classmates for over a decade and the true extent of the hostility of the environment to him.
Which in part doesn't quite capture the reason for his desperation. Equally influential is that Sejanus begins with a higher pitch of protest in the films rather than the escalating spiral he faces in the book.
Now about the Sandwiches scene, I think we can all agree that it is made to make Coriolanus look much better than he acted in that particular situation and ultimately impacts along with other subtle changes in his behavior to make the character a more gentle and selfless version than his book counterpart.
And as you rightly said Juli, Sejanus is not the only character who is prevented from showing his virtues to 100, to favor the image of Coriolanus. This happens in fact with all the students of the academy. Especially with Clemensia.
I wanted to talk about Lysistrata but I feel the same problem with her as with the Plinth: they are practically nonexistent, and it is striking that the other character who genuinely showed concern for her tribute, sought to give him a humane treatment and was not particularly in favor of the games, was almost eliminated.
But I'll go with Festus. Who like other characters in TBOSAS - THG is a greyscale. He'll say wild and clearly poorly thought out things like suggesting the use of capital punishment and brute force to get more people to watch the games but he's also a kid who mourns the death of Arachne, the twins, eats at all hours, is funny, and told Clemensia she was cruel for not wanting to send food to her tribute. And he had a kind of connection with Coral.
According to Coriolanus he was also one of the few people who liked Sejanus more than the average student at the academy. Which says something about his persona, but more importantly in Coryo's own words.
Festus was his best friend and I was quite surprised at the kind of focus they gave him in the movie because not only is there more focus on his flaws but his moments with Coriolanus are more sparse. You wouldn't think they were friends. Again I'm not 100% complaining about that alteration and I can understand where it comes from (it was to give more focus on snowjanus "friendship") but here we have a character who to a lesser extent is reduced to being a mentor who doesn't treat his tribute with gentleness unlike Coriolanus and who seems to not be his friend. Just his classmate.
Which brings us to Clemensia. Who I think is worthy of a place in the "I was close to Coriolanus Snow and he ruined my life" club. I think people underestimate the weight of Coriolanus' actions when he decides to put himself first. When he decides to put her aside to ensure his own survival.
Clemmie is one of Snow's closest friends. And their relationship is the least complex compared to other important relationships in Coryo's life. Which I think is something that promotes the strength of their bond, as Dovecote is genuinely just a friend that Coriolanus spends time with.
It's not as wearing and multi-layered as his love hate Sejanus. Like the conflicts Lucy Gray stirs up and it's nowhere near as torturous as his relationship with Tigris. Coriolanus genuinely cares for her and they seem to understand each other well but this is what I think makes her the first victim.
I can't really say that Coriolanus will act badly in the whole situation. It was Gaul at the end of the day who did most of the damage; demanding that rehearsal from them even when Arachne died, lying to Clemensia to send a message to Snow.... But it is the turning point. Because Coriolanus is faced with a crossroads, what happens with Clemensia forces him to acknowledge what he has always known.
The Capitol does not care about protecting its people. The Capitol is cruel and oppressive. The Capitol subjugates them. He can't rely on institutions or adults to protect him.
And I can't blame him for his reaction, but it is his reaction that makes him complicit. He decides not to protest, not to argue, not to tell and not even to try to take care or to know about Clemensia once she disappears. He does it to ensure his own survival. To take care of his family in theory and other things but it is that point of fall where the debate opens up within him as to why his actions and what he is willing to leave behind in order to survive.
He runs away from her, unable to face the horror of his own inability to act or do anything else for Clemensia and while he awkwardly apologizes, for leaving his friend behind, it was this event that marks this point of who else he is capable of leaving alone as soon as they "become a threat" to his interests.
So I don't understand for the life, why they didn't shoot the scene of her in the hospital with snake scales? Clemensia and Coriolanus' arc IS VITAL. And removing it was a huge mistake, not only that, but changing Clemmie's attitude to make it look like she "deserved" what dr. Gaul did. It was honestly the worst decision. It just doesn't make sense. And I mean that in all seriousness. They didn't even complete her story *scream*.
But well, who I am to complain... On a happier note our beautiful LATAM AU. 🤭 Of course, Sejanus is the one who fights with Strabo every time there is a family reunion. His cousins try to eat at the speed of light before Sejanus starts saying things against the pigs politics who exploit people and Strabo tells him he's a dumb anarchist and stop questioning everything and then they start yelling at each other and have to take the kids somewhere else 😭😭😭
By the way it would be funny if Sejanus, is disinherits by his dad every christmas and he's like "I don't even care about your dirty money" but Coriolanus DOES CARE so he scolds him every time he says that and tries to talk some sense into him although the odds are also very high that he tried to convince Strabo to make him his heir instesd of Sejanus by chatting with him in the yard JAJSJSJSJSIS
Arg Coryo is good because Tigris has an album and a copy of that album with pictures of him dressed as a chick for a dance and other horrors. AND SIIII YOU UNDERSTAND VESTA IS THAT MOTHER WHO CAN DANCE EVERYTHING.
Rip Coryo and his two left feet. He let himself be led but was a very embarrassing companion for someone like Vesta who moves with grace. Sejanus offers to give him lessons so he doesn't make a fool of himself again at parties jsjsjshs
GOD IS CANON. LGB WOULD DEFINITELY GIVE HIM A NASTY POLITICAL CAMPAIGN SHIRT to (make fun of him). Also she has permanently threatened Coriolanus that if he is ever an unacceptable jerk again, she will funar him on social media 💀
STRABO IS THAT KIND OF DAD JSJSJS HE LOVES TELENOVELAS HE JUST REFUSES TO ADMIT IT BUT IT'S SO OBVIOUS. Imagine Sejanus and Coryo discussing telenovela villains and someone gets a fact wrong and Strabo is like "but this actually happened..." and saying he knows because Vesta told him but everyone knows that in his office he watches telenovelas in secret LMAO
About the daddy issues. This the scene
This is getting long already but I think daily about Coriolanus and Strabo's talk and then that time Coriolanus realizes he's acting like Strabo with Sejanus. Damn. I just know that if we would have had a snowjanus + strabo encounter. THAT WOULD HAVE HAPPENED I SWEAR JSKSLS
😭😭
Coryo: Don't yell Mr. Plinth at Sejanus he is just trying to help...
5 minutes later:
Strabo: But don't give him the order yelling,young Snow, you should know Sejanus is sensible...
3 minutes later:
*both of them yell at Sejanus*
Sejanus: This is normal yes :)
Oh. I forgot my song.
1. New song sejarcus certified and yes it's an accurate portrayal of Strabo's father. Its crazy.
2. European Mexican warning: but I need you to see the video of Rosalia - millionaria + Dio$ nos libre del dinero. It's two songs that share one video and there's something there about Coriolanus and Sejanus and their relationship with money. Ehh
Now I will shut up for the moment.
HIII!!! I absolutely understand and 0 judgements bc I'll spend hours just writing a single answer bc time is needed (specially bc I'm a tad bit slow thinking in english 😭) also, good luck with college!! and aaaaaa I love talking to you, this is really sweet, feel free to ask or say anything, I'll be more than happy 🥹
YESSSSS PLS I'm now anxious to hear your thoughts, can't wait for them!!! I stand by the fact that ships are lovely, but there's a big lack of exploration for platonic dynamics and it's painful (and I say that as a platonic bairdplinth truther, snow can go to hell, let these two bond and be such an iconic duo). and yessssss I love lysistrata sm :( every single time her character appeared, all I could think was "omg why couldn't sejanus get closer to her instead of getting close to coriolanus?". there's just so much POTENTIAL here
YESSSS HERE COMES THE (DESERVED) RANT!! but about the fics: thank you sooooo much for sending the links!!! I bookmarked the first to read later, but the second, I've read the first work of the series when it was posted and it's SO GOOD <333 it's genuinely one of my favorite works that I've read recently, and I love how the author wrote bby sejanus' perspective regarding the war
yessss!! I'm not an usa expert (bc, well, I never lived there), but I've seen some interesting takes from people who are from there, but more specifically, are from the appalachian region; and these people were talking about how there's this whole view of people from that region being "uneducated" and other things (and how important it is that D12 is located in this region; I'm not sure if in the movie lucy gray have an appalachian accent because I SUCK at recognizing accents in english except for the texan one, but I know that when suzanne collins read a passage of the book out loud, someone pointed out that she gave lucy gray an appalachian accent).
(this also hits harder when there's a passage in the book where sejanus says him and lucy gray are very alike regarding this, not being able to fit in anywhere, except she had talent 💔)
thank you, this is really kind 🫶 some people will just be ignorant for no reason, just for the joy of being ignorant. and I'm sorry about the things your father went through :(
but okay, let's go to talk about the movie:
absolutely agree!! the movie is GOOD. straight up good. and as an adaptation, there are a few things I think they actually did better than the book:
the whole game, in general. I think the rythm got much more dynamic than it is in the book. I understand the book's purpose, but as a reader, it's slow. the changes made it more interesting and it worked in movie-form a lot.
the whole scene with reaper and the panem flag not only is gorgeous and strong and impactful, but it's so well-adapted, I just- I was really at a loss of words, because it IS much better than the book, imo.
wovey dying from the snakes instead of lucy gray poisoning her. it was an impactful scene that made me feel hopeless and horrible watching. even though the book is brutal, this death specifically made the movie much more brutal to me. that was a child begging to go home.
as you said, making felix being the one who got killed during the bombs. it just made more sense and it was gaul's perfect excuse. and it also makes us question more things: is it one child's life worth the life of 24 children?
but when it comes to coriolanus... oh boi. I have thoughts.
(before we get into it, it's worth saying tom blyth did an amazing job with the text he got; the forest scene was TERRIFYING, it made me genuinely scared and tense when watching it at the theater. plus, he has this constant look that just unsettles you. it makes you sense that there's something wrong with this boy, even though you can't really put your finger on what exactly. if there's such a thing as a perfect actor for coriolanus, that's tom blyth, no doubt.)
now, this is a feeling I personally have: the movie is an action dystopian movie. it would obviously want to appeal to this public, including people who never read the book in first place. so, to appeal more to the general hollywood public, they adapter coriolanus' character to be more of an underdog who goes through some sort of corruption arc. he's not an indocrinated, bigoted boy who thinks himself to be superior, who grows more and more power hungry, and this leads him to do things that are more and more horrible. in the movie, he's an ambitious boy, yes, but who goes through traumatic things and famine, and who, in the end, chooses himself in order to survive.
now, let's say the writers want to change this character to make him more appealing to the big public; after all, who would like watching someone like coriolanus thinking the things he think, specially about district people? and the way they seemed to do it was by not changing the core story, but omitting and toning down elements that make coriolanus seem much worse.
the plinths are definitely the most problematic of these characters who got omitted or toned down. the end in the film is not near as impactful as in the book. he killed their child. their only son. and then he comes back and acts as if he did nothing. he knew how much sejanus' mom loved him, then he kills her son and proceeds to call that boy's mom MA. he was SO sick for that. stealing someone's life is already bad, but there's so many layers that the more you look into it, the worst it gets. it's essential to understand that atp of the story, there's no turning back, because he isn't able to feel remorse anymore. he just doesn't care, and this is extremely important to know that THIS is the snow we know in the future. this is the snow that do horrible things to children, that mercilessly kills his opponents. that's how far he's willing to go.
I agree with you regarding the time, specially because the movie was already very long, but they could've given us one scene. at least one. if they inserted, for example, ma plinth going to talk to coriolanus abt sejanus being missing, I think it would already add a great impact (of course the scene of sejanus' death screaming for his ma is heartbreaking by itself, but when you know the context, when you see how close they were in the book, it's just MUCH WORSE, MY GOD). or in the end, a little scene with coriolanus and strabo talking abt coriolanus being their heir would already do a lot for the storytelling (I also think that was left a bit ambiguous in the movie).
(I also adore that scene of strabo and coriolanus, it gives us a lot of insight and I would've adored to have it adapted 💔)
sejanus in the book is a complex character that has a lot of nuances, and that's why I like him so much. when you look through coriolanus' lens, you won't really understand how depressing his situation is. coriolanus just looks to the fact that sejanus have money and is financially privileged, but mostly ignores the fact that the capitol is hostile to the plinths (coriolanus himself is hostile to the plinths! he doesn't say it aloud bc, well, he's coriolanus, but it's still there in his narration, and the way he talks about them), and sejanus was relentlessly bullied through his whole childhood growing up. he had no friend and not really a support network besides his ma. he was utterly alone in an environment that hated him, hated where he came from, hated his family. and he still turned out kind. and we see this in details through the book; the sandwich scene is the most significant, as you said, and it PAINS me that they cut it out, bc reading it, it was when it was clear to me that what coriolanus says about sejanus is not really reliable. sejanus brought food not only to marcus, he brought food to ALL the tributes. he wanted ALL of them to have something to eat. and he really didn't need to do it.
another thing that was poorly executed was that they basically got rid of the fact that he was suicidal. in the movie, it seemed like a naive kid thinking dying on that arena would be a good act of protest (which wouldn't be at all, as we all know it wouldn't be broadcasted). in the book, the whole thing regarding it being a form of protest is more secondary, because that boy was straight up trying to kill himself, and if it actually ended as some sort of protest, then it would be just a side thing. sejanus was in so much pain that he really thought that the only way he could make up to marcus was by dying, and then, after this whole thing, (if I remember right, but I may be remembering wrong) he had to be on sedatives because of how stressful and traumatic the situation was. and sejanus says AGAIN later in the book that he was planning to kill himself. it makes the whole rebel plan have much more sense, because OF COURSE sejanus wouldn't care it's dangerous, he doesn't seem to care about his life at all, he would know the risks and do it anyway, while in the movie it just seemed impulsive and (again) naive. and talking about the rebel plan, this is such a tiny details but it drives me insane how they changed the fact that in the book, he KNEW about the guns and he GOT THEM PURPOSELY, and this actually changes a lot how the public can view his character.
and as you said, all these changes lead to people on tiktok having the WORST takes on him, and I can't even judge them 100%, bc in the movie (imo) they DID make him much more spoiled and naive than he is in the book 😭
to wrap up my thoughts regarding sejanus because I talk too much: sejanus' arc is not one easy to the general estadounidense audience relate to unless you went through some similar experience, but when you did go through some similar experience, it hits HARD. and the book worked this very well, where in the movie, I swear some people I know that never read the book didn't even remember that he was district. it was very poorly worked, they toned down his character a lot, and it just doesn't sit right with me.
but now, let's talk about the academy students:
one thing that I find interesting in tbosas is that even though coriolanus is the worse, we can't really blame it on being from the capitol, because we DO see characters from the capitol who have the ability of being selfless and have empathy. and that makes you realize that, yeah, even though coriolanus is a product of his environment... it's still not justifiable, because we see good kids at the academy who aren't bigoted like him.
lysistrata is the BIGGEST of these examples. even though we see coriolanus being nice to lucy gray, we also read his thoughts and he mostly sees her as a possession, a thing to be possessed, not a human being. he barely sees her as equal. and we have lysistrata, who forms a genuine bond with jessup. there's a scene that I find really remarkable in the book. one of the academy students (I'm not really sure who, but I think it was hilarius) comments, in response to lysistrata saying jessup is a protector, that jessup is almost like "a loyal dog". and lysistrata immediately says that no, not like a dog. like a human being. like a protector. and lysistrata was born and raised in the capitol, she probably never got any contact with the districts, her family for sure have a lot of money for her to study in the academy... and she sees jessup as human. not as a possession, but as human. and they got almost completely rid of her character, and it really did make it seem like coriolanus was the only capitol-born kid who wasn't particularly cruel or xenophobic (when it's quite the contrary lol).
we barely see festus in the movie, and when we see, it's just him being kind of a prick (and I don't really understand why focusing on him being a prick specifically; there were other academy characters who would've served this purpose well; why, of all the academy students, pick right the one that was not hostile to sejanus? it genuinely got me confused, like, why, leave him alone 😭). I can absolutely see why they didn't focus on festus and coriolanus' screentime, and I'm also okay with it, but what bothers me is that changing him into just another academy student who's pretty much cold to his tribute removes the nuance of the story (in the book, we see plenty of academy students bonding with their tributes and feeling bad when they die, we see they are indocrinated privileged kids but who can still learn to be better and do better and unlearn all their bigotry; while in the movie, it sounds more like, academy students = bad, coriolanus = good).
clemensia DOES deserve her own small seat at the "coriolanus snow ruined my life" table alongside with sejanus, lucy gray and tigris 😭 I think she's very much forgotten when we talk about the people coriolanus hurt
coriolanus did clemensia so wrong.... of course it's not as bad or complex as he did to lucy gray, but as the book progresses, coriolanus goes down a spiral where the stuff he does to people around him get more and more and more cruel and more nasty and more unjustifiable. clemensia was when that spiral started. he calls her by a nickname, they pretty much grew up together and saw each other around a lot. she probably trusted him. she's a friend, just a friend, not a possession or someone he's straight up jealous of; as you say, it's not as important as the other 3 most important relationships we see in the book (coriolanus and lgb, sejanus and tigris), but it's still a relationship, and if anything, the most innocent and pure one. and also, clemensia DOES have her moments of goodness!!! unlike coriolanus, she's against betting on tributes, and she thinks watching the games is gruesome. of course, compared to all of his victims, clemensia isn't the worst; after all, if anything, dr. gaul is the one to have more guilt here. but he was still wrong for how he reacted to it (she was his friend!!! and he didn't say a thing!!! he puts his survival first and the person he cared about in second), and each victim he makes, the reasons and the motives get less and less justifiable. but overall, I can't really add more thoughts regarding clemensia, because you were pretty much on point, and I agree with EVERYTHING. everything, really.
and also, talking about the movie and how they made her arc incomplete: it really annoys me how they make it implied that she died ("caught a flu" and stuff), but we don't see a funeral, we don't see her friends grieving, we don't see nothing. I don't remember if we even saw her during the games, srsly; I genuinely can't remember, and if she wasn't there, who the hell mentored reaper? they just left him without a mentor and that's it? I can't really remember a case like that in the book, as all the mentors that died also had their tributes dying, so... yeah, clemensia deserved much better, they did her so wrong by making it seem like she deserved it and took profit from coriolanus' work (when in the book, she was actually mad that he wrote the essay because arachne JUST DIED and he's there writing an essay). again, small details, small things, minor characters that are really important to understand how FUCKED UP coriolanus is even to the capitol standards, and they got completely toned down or just changed to make him better and more of an antihero ig.
(in general, loved your thoughts, they were very well put and I basically agree with everything, it should be kind of a requirement to read the book before watching the movie because I can't stand some takes I see on twitter and on tiktok, specially regarding lgb and sejanus; LEAVE THEM ALONEEEEE)
LATAM AU my beloved <33 STRABO CALLING SEJANUS AN ANARCHIST, I'M SCREAMING because this is actually so on character 😭 the plinth family having to start the christmas dinner much before midnight because if they wait for it, they KNOW there'll be no vibe for it because sejanus and strabo are already at each other's throats. ma tried to ban alcohol once, because she thought that if strabo was sober then he would be more mature and not yell with sejanus, but it's no use because sober or not, him and sejanus WILL fight over politics (and it's even worse when it's election year, poor ma is so tired, SHE JUST WANTS A FUN NIGHT not a civil war inside her own house)
PLSSSSSSS every single year strabo going "I'm NOT going to leave my money to you, I don't know who I'm going to leave it, BUT IT'S NOT YOU", and when sejanus talks back, coriolanus is there next to him "babe <3 don't do that <3 I wanna be rich <3 if you don't, that's up to you <3 but I want that good life <3" but the thought of coriolanus trying to convince strabo to make him his heir is also too funny 😭 because strabo would be there slandering sejanus, but when coriolanus tries to slander sejanus too, strabo immediately glares at him and is like "who said you can talk about my son like that? 🤨"
coriolanus being so embarassed because vesta knows how to dance tango while he does not 😭 and imagine it being like on a party, it was the first time sejanus was introducing him to his parents, and coriolanus wanted so bad to make a good impression, just to make a fool of himself in the worst way possible. sejanus thinks it's cute tho when coriolanus goes to him having to put his pride aside to ask sejanus to teach him how to dance (because sejanus is vesta's son, he KNOWS how to dance too, I just know it).
lucy gray having a whole album on her phone just of pics to post online and expose coriolanus if he dares to be a prick again, I know that's right, if he doesn't want to behave by his will, then it'll be by force ☝️ and plus she's supported by tigris
HIM TRYING TO HIDE IT BUT ATP EVERYONE KNOWS IT 😭 and when he talks to sejanus and coriolanus abt it, the conversation lasts long, and he knows a lot of tiny details (because that man is an insane observer, he'll catch the tiniest details and actually guess the finale much before), and then coriolanus stops and goes... "wait, mr. plinth, how do you know all of these stuff?" and he tries to justify it and say that vesta told him, but these are TOO SPECIFIC details, vesta didn't tell him that
okay, so, I watched the scene, and I'M CACKLINGKSKSKSDKKSDKSDKDS I just KNOW that if we got a scene of these three characters together, it would go pretty much like that 😭 it's even more funnier if this is an au (a modern setting), and sejanus takes coriolanus to meet his father, and just then when he puts coriolanus and strabo side to side he realizes that these two are actually TOO alike and he starts to reconsider most of his life choices
EUROPEAN MEXICAN TRIGGER WARNING (I'll never NOT laugh at it, that's historical reparation 😭) but I watched the clip, and YESSSSS you're so right!!!! and again, coriolanus and sejanus serving as a foil to each other and being on opposite ends (specially because in sejanus' case, that money comes from selling guns that kills people and children, that's blood money, and the lyrics just fit him so well)
but anyway, it was amazing hearing your thoughts, hope to see you soon buddie <3 take care!!
#tbosas#tbosas movie#coriolanus snow#president snow#sejanus plinth#clemensia dovecote#lysistrata vickers#ask#my silly little thoughts#this was long welp
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Inventory - Daryl Dixon
Request: you can write anything tbh! just something small and sweet, if you don’t mind :) (daryl anon)
A/N: This is honestly just random established relationship fluff or something.
The Walking Dead Masterlist
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You weren’t entirely sure that you liked Alexandria. It felt like someone had captured the old world in a time capsule and you were viewing all the things that you had forgotten about. Shower pressure and hot water and actual running water weren’t things that you took for granted and you’d practically cried in the bathroom when the toilet flushed but all the other parts felt uncomfortable. Like clothing that didn’t fit you anymore. You weren’t Daryl, waiting with his hand on a gun for the moment everything went to shit, but you certainly weren’t about to done a cardigan and act like a soccer mom getting ready for a bake sale either. You would let Carol handle the assimilating and gossip. Or at least the former, the latter, you couldn’t escape.
“I wouldn’t’ve pegged him as your type.” Olivia mentioned, hellbent on making inventory a gossip session.
“What?” You looked away from the open garage door to where Olivia was stacking cans of corn and writing down their number in her composition book.
“Daryl. I noticed you watch him a lot...is that like, you guys got a thing going on or you just looking?” She asked.
You paused in your rearranging of cans to look back out the garage door again. Daryl was across the street talking to Aaron and Michonne and you tried to formulate an answer that made sense for Olivia and for you. She hadn’t technically asked if you were ‘together’ (that ominous word that felt so weighty when you said it to yourself) but she was definitely asking for a definition. Were you more than friends, absolutely. That wasn’t even something you needed to think about. You certainly weren’t sharing beds with your friends the way you did with Daryl. But he’d never given any definition to your togetherness and somehow, even defining it felt like such an archaic thing. Another piece of the old world pulled from the time capsule.
“I mean...” you shrugged, “both I guess?” There was a thing, for lack of a more concrete term, but you also liked looking at him a whole lot. You’d been enjoying looking at him for a while now and sometimes on the road you’d thought, if something happened, who would you look for in a crowd. It wasn’t just that you liked the view, it was that feeling of something that anchored you into the moment, made your head a little less dizzy, made all this more bearable.
“I guess he’s not bad looking.” Olivia laughed a little, her cheeks reddening at the thought and you wanted to agree. He most certainly was not bad looking. And you had told him so plenty of times, in the privacy of your own room. “He doesn’t seem very...” she paused, looking over at you as if she had caught herself speaking out of turn.
Small talk and social etiquettes felt like something you’d left behind too, far too used to being direct with people. It almost felt odd for her to be so unforthcoming.
“Friendly?” You asked. She didn’t need to say it for you to know what she was thinking. It seemed to be a consensus throughout Alexandria. The community had differing opinions about all of you but the one thing they all agreed on was Daryl’s lack of acceptable behavior. He wasn’t particularly friendly with any of them (aside from Aaron maybe) and he acted more like a caged animal than someone who was grateful for shelter and protection.
“Uh, yeah.” Olivia nodded, pink cheeks staining darker, “I mean, I’m sure he talks to you, of course...it’s just, I’ve never found him to be particularly...warm.”
Warm, you felt like the word echoed in your mind once she said it. You’d never really spent too much time thinking about the way you would describe Daryl, he was just, himself, and that was it. You didn’t linger on what he was, what you expected him to be. Even if you didn’t ever think of yourselves as ‘together’ you knew exactly what you were.
You thought about offering up a defense for him, explaining that he was warm. He was being wrapped in a blanket on a cold night or feeling the sun on your shoulders in the early morning. It wasn’t something you considered often, that you felt like you needed to name, but you knew it right away. The words came on the tip of your tongue, like you’d been waiting to think them. But you didn’t get the chance.
Daryl came up the driveway while you were staring at him and the softest of smiles graced your features as you watched him, giving a small wave. Maybe you wouldn’t have thought about it if you hadn’t been talking to Olivia but, as Daryl held your gaze the whole up the drive, you were reminded of when you might’ve categorised his behaviour as more shy than reserved. Now it felt like he held back because he chose to, deciding what parts of himself other people got to see. When you’d first known him it was more a defense mechanism than an ordinary occurrence, and he’d never been comfortable meeting your eye.
“Did you come to help with inventory?” You teased, already hearing the grumbled response in your mind before he said it.
“Just passing by,” he replied, glancing over to the far corner where Olivia was still sitting, notebook open in her lap. “Morning.”
You wondered if she was scrutinising the interaction. Trying to see for herself what you saw in Daryl, as if that was possible.
“I’ll go check to make sure we’ve got all the dry foods from upstairs.” Olivia announced, standing from her spot and bumping her chair back against the sorting table. It rattled but nothing fell over and she went so quickly out of the room she looked like she was power-walking.
“What’s a matter with her?” Daryl asked, taking your water bottle from the ground by your chair and unscrewing the cap so he could drink some.
“She was asking about you, weren’t your ears burning?” You joked.
He glanced down at you, unamused, before finally taking the bait, “why’s she asking?”
“Said I stare at you all the time.”
“So quit staring.” He capped the water bottle and set it back in its place before fiddling with different cans on the shelves, pulling them off and reading the labels.
“Easier said then done,” you replied, grabbing your notebook off the shelf in front of you, “besides, I don’t wanna forget what you look like.”
“Why? You going somewhere?”
You scrunched your nose at his words and shook your head, “no, but you are right…saw you talking to Aaron.”
“Think ya watch me just ta spy on what I’m doing.”
“I’m right though, you two are headed out?” You asked.
“Don’t make it something it ain’t…I’ll be back in a few days time.”
Daryl was good at coming back when he left, you knew it from experience. He’d come back when he’d left with Merle, he’d come back when he’d left to find Beth, when he went off on his own to hunt he always came back. As sure as you were that he would leave, you were just as sure he would find his way back again. It wasn’t something you had to think about or reassure yourself of but sometimes it was easier to give in to that worst case scenario that sat in the back of your mind.
“I know,” you said it like you were promising him, “but that’s a few days without seeing you…who am I supposed to look for?”
Daryl set down the can of beets he was looking at and walked the short distance back to you. His hand wrapped around the end of your ponytail and he gave a gentle tug, guiding your head all the way back so you were looking straight up at him. You thought it was probably a good thing Olivia wasn’t here, she’d seemed scandalised enough at his presence in the room, you could imagine all the things she’s knock over if she saw him now, one hand holding your ponytail and the other on your neck as he leaned down and kissed you.
It was a softer kiss than the hold implied and you considered the juxtaposition of Daryl’s softness and roughness your favorite thing about him. It’d taken a while, to see the soft bits, but now you saw them all the time. How he kissed you so comfortably, like he’d always been doing it. His tongue brushing your bottom lip almost teasingly but he pulled away before you could do more, standing back up straight and dropping his hands. He gripped the back of your folding chair and you leaned against his hand, feeling them press into the skin between your shoulder blades, bare from your tank top. You kept your head tilted back, a little more comfortably though.
“When do you leave?” You asked, half expecting him to tell you he was headed to the gate now. Your brain still felt a little dizzy from the kiss but that was a normal occurrence.
“Tomorrow morning.” He replied, letting go of the chair to run his knuckles along your spine. “Shouldn’t be longer than a day or two.”
There was a quieter bumping noise and a soft curse as Olivia peeked back into the doorway, a few boxes of pasta haphazardly held in her arms. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“It’s alright,” you replied but truthfully you were just being nice. Because Daryl had already retracted his hand you felt goosebumps on your skin in his absence, as if your body was trying to chase the sensation of him.
“Ya need help?” He asked, motioning to the boxes as she dropped them onto the sorting table.
“Would you mind? I’ve got another laundry basket full of them to bring down here and I dropped like five on the staircase.” She explained, following after him to point them out.
Daryl disappeared through the door, Olivia right behind him, and you went back to organising the latter half of the alphabetically arranged cans. Olivia tended to be more loose-lipped than her other Alexandria counterparts and you couldn’t help imagining her asking him questions, trying to dig out some part of a person under the cold exterior he’d given off while he was here. Searching for the warmth she thought was lacking. They weren’t gone long, Olivia’s chipper voice carrying down the stairs.
Daryl came through first, laundry basket piled high and the slightest hint of a glare as his eyes met yours, as if you’d somehow put him up to the task of helping.
“You can set them on the sorting table,” Olivia instructed, “I’ll go through them once I’m finished the canned goods.”
Setting them down, Daryl just nodded in agreement. You stopped from saying you’d see him tonight, in case that information was somehow on a need to know basis. But he was obviously being less purposefully withdrawn than you’d thought because he took another sip from your water bottle before telling you the exact thing you’d been too reserved to say.
“I’ll see ya tonight,” he promised, putting your water bottle back and giving your ponytail a playful tug before leaving back down the driveway.
You watched after him until he turned the corner and was out of eyesight.
“I can see why you like him so much…” Olivia finally said, getting your attention as you looked back at her.
“What?” You asked, wondering if he’d said something to her that changed her mind.
Her cheeks tinged pink again and she looked down at her notebook, “I wasn’t trying to spy or anything…just, you know, wanted to bring those boxes in.”
You nodded, prompting her to continue.
“I saw him kissing you…” she let out an airy sigh, “I’d be staring at somebody all day if they kissed me like that.”
#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon fic#daryl dixon imagine#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon x you#daryl dixon x y/n#the walking dead fanfic#the walking dead fanfiction#the walking dead fic#the walking dead imagine#twd imagine#twd fanfic#twd fic#twd fanfiction#collecting stories imagine
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Are you still taking requests?
What about a very jealous Crosshair or Echo pre-relationship and their brothers egging them on?
I haven't done echo in so long shdkdjsk!!! Baby BOOOOOY!!!!! Also he has actual prosthetic arms and legs because I am gonna pretend like he can change them out for formal events
warnings: major simping, pretty dresses, I cannot write anything else apparently, also mentions of wine (i don’t even like wine smh)
Echo wasn't a jealous man. Really, he wasn't.
At least, that was what he told himself when he watched her walk into the room, dripping in silk. The senator held her head up high, hair piled on her head, shoulders rolled back as she moved down the stairs, hand gently resting on the railing as she moved down. The train of her dress followed, pouring down the stairs.
He didn't bother hiding the way he sucked in his breath- she was glistening.
Crosshair laughed in the comm. "Someone's got it bad, huh?" Echo barely managed to get a hiss in towards the sniper.
"Boys," Hunter warned. "Keep your eyes out. We're here to make sure the senator stays alive." From a distance, Echo saw him perched at the roof, watching the exterior of the building. "Tech, anything?"
"Nothing yet." The clone muttered into the comm. "I'm watching all signals bouncing in the room."
“I’m keeping an eye out on visuals inside.” Echo skimmed the room, tearing his eyes away from the graceful senator. “No unusual activity.”
“I’ll bet you’re watching.” Crosshair’s snark was just as effective through the modulator of the comm.
“Shut up.”
“No, you.”
Echo gnashed his teeth. “Di’kut.”
“Hut’uun.”
“Boys!” Hunter hissed. “I will make you both hug and make up if you both don’t shut the kark up.”
“A fate worse than death.” Echo mumbled, drawing his eyes back to the senator, which wasn’t hard to do. She was currently talking very calmly to a man, smiling at him and his aid, bowing her head politely. Even so his heart throttled and twisted angrily, irritated at himself.
Crosshair snickered, his visor illuminated in the distant moonlight as he shook his head. “You’d rather hug and make up with something else.”
“I’m going to-”
“I’m picking up on something.” Tech spoke up suddenly, exasperation seeping through the comm system. “High levels of sass.”
Wrecker broke out in fits of laughter over the commlinks, pealing through Echo’s helmet abrasively. “Ha, ha! That’s what I like about ya, Echo.”
Echo scowled but fought off the urge to say anything. It felt like he had just assimilated into the small group of clones, and he didn’t want to cause any rifts. He bit his tongue, turning his eyes back to the gala below. “Look at all of these people. You think they know anything about the actual war?”
“Who knows?” Tech mumbled softly. It was a hum over the comm, but somehow every brother picked it up.
There was a moment of weight. The comms were silent for a moment with heaviness, a bated breath, and none of them dared to say anything about the weight of the galaxy that rested on the shoulders of a few men.
Crosshair’s voice slithered between the cracks of the fragile quietness. “Let’s go back to teasing each other.”
Echo wanted to agree, and he mumbled a half-hearted “Mm.” She looked up at him, peering down from the second-floor railing. She offered him a small smile, gentle, and it radiated, brighter than the lights and sweeter than any wine they were serving below. “You know,” He said, softly. “At least there is one senator out there who gets us.”
The others gave affirmations, Wrecker’s “Yeah, she does!” being the loudest out of them all. Echo grinned under his helmet as Hunter chuckled.
“Guys, go easy on him.”
“Why?” Crosshair giggled in the system. “It’s so sweet, watching him make googly-eyes at her.”
“I don’t make googly-eyes.” Echo muttered, stepping away from the bannister after scanning the room. “I make... regular eyes.”
“Keep telling yourself that.” The largest clone rumbled, still breaking with laughter. Echo winced at the booming of his voice. “You keep staring at her from your watch point.”
“To make sure she stays alive.”
At least... that was what he told himself. Just business, strictly business. Even so, his mind wandered to her, waning in its strict upholdings and tugging at the net he tried to use to constrain his thoughts of her- her airy movements, how she practically floated across the floor, her sleepy voice after being awoken abruptly by the Batch knocking on her door, or her ringing laughter that was fully free to run over him like waves. The net was broken and his soul was snatched away by her unwitting hands.
“Hunter to Echo,” The sargent’s voice sliced through his thoughts. “You see anything yet?”
Echo leaned back over the bannister, breath drawing in as he spotted a man coming in from the side door. “Yeah, I think so.” He hurried around, closer to the side door. “Someone came in from the side.”
Tech hummed in thought from the comm. “That’s odd. The representatives should be coming in from the main entrance.”
“On it,” Echo jumped up onto the edge of the bannister, balancing, watching and waiting as he perched. His heart thrummed as the senator turned, eyes sharp, landing on the man. She froze.
An obsidian barrel pointed out at her, and her eyes flickered up at him. Echo.
Echo’s chest flared with anger, heat, and he pounced. He landed hard on the perpatrator, metal legs digging into his back as they landed hard. Party goers gasped, turning and staring at the clone, shocked, eyes darting between Echo and the unconcious man lying on the floor, blaster knocked a good amount away by the impact.
Except her- her eyes only stayed on him. Echo hurried towards her and took her hand, pulling her away from everyone. “Let’s get you to cover.”
She nodded, following him, stopping to kick off those heels of hers and following him with bare feet. She raised a hand to her ear and said, softly, “Hunter, I’m alright. Echo’s got me.”
Echo almost stopped moving, and his blood ran cold. “You’re connected to our comms?”
“Of course.” A smile tugged at her voice, and Echo groaned internally. “I can hear you.”
“The whole time?” Echo grimaced as Crosshair cackled in the headset. Echo reached up to his helmet and quickly shut the system off, ducking into the designated safe room on the side.
She chuckled, pulling in the trail of silk behind her as he shut the door. “All of it. Do you really make googly-eyes at me?”
Echo mumbled under his breath, feeling a sudden gently thud on the sides of his helmet. She stood in front of him, hands resting gently on the cheeks of his helmet and lifting it up. “I don’t mind your googly eyes, Echo.” She spoke softly, gently, resting his helmet in her hands. “I quite like them, actually.”
She was close- the only thing between them was his helmet resting in her hands. Quietly, Echo moved his hands to cover hers, and his words propelled from his mouth, shattering in his throat. “I... I’m sorry. I wish I could see you some other way, but-”
Her fingers pressed gently to his lips, moving his helmet under her arm. The silk was cool under his gloved hands as he pressed his fingers to her dress. “I can’t look at you any other way, either, Echo.” He smiled, quietly, feeling her lips brush his chin. “I don’t want to look at you any other way.”
He felt nothing, just the silk of her gown and the magnetic pull of her warm lips to his in the small, dark safe room, and a chapped mix of a moan and sigh escaped his throat as he wrapped his arms around her. She smelled floral, like open spaces and free planets, somewhere far from here. She broke away, the absolutely spine-chilling hum a musical sound to his ears.
“How is he?” Echo heard the tinkering of Crosshair’s laugh in the senator’s earpiece.
Echo reached out, taking the comm. “Shut up, Cross,” He hissed, turning off the comm and wrapping his arms around the senator. She laughed lightly, lips meshing and dancing with Echo’s.
#echo x reader#echo x you#bad batch reader insert#bad batch echo x reader#bad batch echo x you#minty writes#echo#clones#i did change up the reason for prosthetic arms in this one because it was a bad say for me to think
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A Favor: Part Twenty-Three
Nessian Modern AU
Masterlist
a/n: so yeah this isn’t my best work bc i havent been feeling great lately but i hope you guys can stay patient with me until i get my shit together. we’re almost to the end🤞
***
Sitting crammed between Elain and Feyre on the gray couch in Lana’s office, Nesta has to cross her legs prettily and pretend she doesn’t want to peel out of her skin right there. She doesn’t know what she was thinking when she invited her sisters to one of her therapy sessions, but she’s assuming it would be considered rude to kick them out now.
“Who wants to speak first?” Lana’s bob swings as she looks at each of them. The office is ice cold today, and Feyre and Elain’s presence doesn’t help the chill in the air.
Nesta crosses her arms before she can be asked to speak. “No, thank you,” she says. She knows everyone probably expects better from her, but no way in hell is she going to be the first to open up in front of this crowd. “Feyre,” she turns to her youngest sister instead, “why don’t you say something?”
“Actually, why don’t you set the example, Nesta?” Lana gives her a look, making her cheeks redden with irritation.
“Fine,” Nesta grumbles. She clears her throat. “As you can see, I have made moves to reconnect with my sisters. I invited them here because I hoped that therapy would bring us closer and also make them more… tolerable.”
Elain coughs, “Bitch.”
Nesta smiles tightly. “Elain could especially use this, I think.”
Lana is already frowning. She never frowns this early into a session. “We’ll start with an easy question, then. What’s been on your mind lately, Nesta?”
Nesta purses her lips, pretending to think. “Nothing important. I’m looking at jobs for the summer. I think Azriel keeps sneaking money into my purse, and it’s starting to become more than a little condescending. I caught up with some friends from school, and I was polite enough to pay for lunch.” She mentions off to the side to Elain, “Lucien was there, too.”
“Why would I care?” Elain sneers. She spies Lana’s disapproving look and lowers her head demurely. “Sorry,” she murmurs.
“That’s alright,” Lana says. “Why don’t you go next?”
“Me?” Elain’s head snaps up, and Nesta holds in her snicker.
“Start by describing your relationship with Nesta. I heard you two used to be very close.” Lana uncaps her pen, preparing to write.
Elain flushes lightly and folds her hands. “That was when we were children. The only thing keeping us together was that we shared a home. When we stopped living in the same place, some of us had no problem leaving others in the dust.”
“You can use my name,” Nesta rolls her eyes, “I’m right here.”
From the corner of her vision, Feyre cringes.
“Are you saying you feel abandoned by Nesta?” Lana continues probing.
Elain’s answering silence tells more than enough. Therapy must actually be paying off, though, because Nesta only thinks about interrupting and defending herself for a second before shaking it off. Her mind focuses on the word abandonment instead.
Lana is focusing on the same thing, because she leans closer and says, “Being abandoned bothers you?”
“I never said that,” Elain says indignantly.
“It would bother most people.”
Nesta watches Elain sigh and blink her big doe eyes at Lana. She’s always been able to use those eyes on anybody for anything. “I just don’t understand why I’m the villain for expecting a little loyalty,” Elain says sweetly. “Especially when you take a look at this face.” She cups her round cheeks. “You know psychology. How could you abandon this face?”
Nesta’s jaw hangs open. “Are we still talking about me?” She remembers Cassian telling her the story behind Azriel ghosting Elain, and a pang of guilt and pity hits her. She still hasn’t talked with Elain about why Azriel left Velaris, and she knows she won’t be able to decide whether to spare Az or not until she does.
“So that’s my turn,” Elain finishes up. “Feyre can go next.”
Lana is writing something sharply on her notepad, but she nods coolly. “Feyre, how would you describe your relationship with your sisters?”
“Oh, we don’t have time for all of that,” Feyre laughs awkwardly and waves a hand.
Nesta agrees, but the look Lana gives Feyre tells her that yes, they do have time.
Gulping, Feyre glances around. “Well, I was born last, so I guess that made me the outsider of the family. I never had much in common with my sisters, but now that we’re older I… hoped that we would grow past that.”
Translation: she hoped that once she found her happy ending in Rhysand’s arms, poor little Nesta and Elain would happily assimilate into her new community of wealthy friends, putting the cherry on top of her perfect life. And while Elain did that exact thing, it’s always bothered Feyre that Nesta won’t do the same.
Feyre continues, “I admit I’m not the best at understanding Nesta. Elain and I get along fine now, but Nesta…” Feyre meets her eyes. “It’s like nothing we do is enough for her, but for some reason I can’t stop trying.”
“Whose fault is that?” Nesta mutters.
“You want her approval,” Lana hums, taking notes.
“Is that what it is?” Feyre looks away.
Nesta refrains from saying yes, that’s exactly what it is, and it’s not my problem if you keep looking for something I can’t give.
“What are your feelings about that, Nesta?” Lana turns her focus to her. “Remember that this is a safe space.”
It really isn’t, not with two siblings holding long term grudges against Nesta. But once and for all, she’s going to set the record straight. “I spent most of my life being a bad sister.” Nesta’s voice is apathetic, straightforward. “I let Feyre take the burden of providing for us even though I was the oldest, and I didn’t know how to be anything other than cruel to my family. So once I had the means to do so, I cut everyone off for all of our sakes. I still don’t regret it, because being a stranger is better than being a bad sister.”
In that way, Nesta is a bit like her mother. Nesta was angry after her death, but she knows she would have been even angrier if Magdalene Archeron had lived and continued to be a disappointing parent. In that way, both of them are wise for leaving their families when they did.
“Or you could just be a good sister,” Elain interrupts with a drawl.
Nesta smirks bitterly at her. “I’d rather die.”
Feyre takes in a breath. “Why? Why are you like that with us?” She blinks furiously, and Nesta can see the simmer of her emotions. “It was okay when we thought you hated everybody, but you don’t. You only hate me and Elain.”
Nesta looks to Lana for help, but her therapist is sitting this one out. She sighs through her nose. “I don’t hate you,” she says, even though they might never understand. The next line comes with great difficulty. “I’ve loved you since before I even knew what love was. But I don’t like you very much, Feyre, and you don’t like me, either. Please stop trying to change that.”
When she finally meets Feyre’s eyes, though, they’re glimmering with tears. “How can I stop trying to change that?” Feyre whispers. “How can I give up on us like that?”
For Nesta to give Feyre and Elain the relationship they want from her would require nothing but lies on her part. And as much as she wishes she was capable of lying about this, she can’t do it.
Looking away and down at her hands, Nesta mutters, “It’s not fun for me either, but it’s how I am. I can’t be easy or friendly with you. I hate watching you try to make me be easy or friendly.”
Nobody says anything to that, but when Nesta looks up again Lana gives her a remote nod that Feyre and Elain don’t catch. Thank you for your vulnerability, it says.
“You said something interesting, Nesta,” Lana breaks the silence. “Did you see your sisters as your responsibility to raise?”
Nesta shrugs. “I was the oldest,” she repeats.
“Your father was the oldest.”
“He wouldn’t do shit even if you held a gun to his head, so I was up next.” Though Nesta hadn’t done shit either. Neither had Elain, but the rules have always been different for her. Elain redeems herself to others by handing out sunny smiles and pretending to have the intelligence of a fawn.
Lana stares at Nesta until Nesta’s skin starts to heat. “What?” she says defensively.
Ignoring the other two women in the room, Lana leans forward. “You told me once early into our relationship that part of the reason you left Tennessee was to get away from your sisters. You said you were heartbroken when they ended up following you here.”
Nesta doesn’t breathe or look to see her sisters’ reactions.
“Now I’m going to ask: did you really want to get away from your sisters, or did you want to escape the feeling of failing them?”
Nesta doesn’t know how to answer, because to her they might as well be the same thing. Having Feyre and Elain around is like having a weight tied to her chest. The lingering guilt every time Feyre is in a room, her existence screaming I’m the reason you’re still alive. Elain’s constant expectations of unconditional support and loyalty, whether it’s reciprocated or not. It’s all so heavy. And it all goes back to the fact that the three of them were once just helpless children.
If she couldn’t take care of her sisters, how is she supposed to take care of any child, ever?
Nesta releases a weary sigh. “You’re going to bring this up the next time we have the baby talk, aren’t you?”
Lana’s eyes sparkle. “Don’t get ahead of yourself just yet.” But Nesta can see from where she sits that her therapist’s notepad is covered in bullet points.
***
“I need to use the bathroom.” Feyre is hopping back and forth on her feet once the session is over. “You guys head down to the parking lot without me.” She exits in a rush, leaving the two sisters alone. Nesta hisses in frustration, nearly chasing after Feyre so she won’t have to face the inevitable awkward conversation with Elain.
By the end of the session, it was Elain that broke and pleaded with Nesta, “Don’t do everything we want, then. Just keep doing better, the way you’ve already been doing. I’ll be happy with just that.”
Nesta was surprised that Elain had even noticed her efforts, but she retorted, “And how do you plan to do better?”
To which Elain twirled her hair and murmured something halfheartedly about, “I might be more open to taking criticism or whatever.”
Though it was the absolute bare minimum, it was still a relief for Nesta to hear Elain admit that she has flaws worth criticizing.
Now, Nesta clutches the straps of her purse and turns for the stairwell leading to the parking lot. Elain follows without comment.
Inside the stairwell, Nesta asks, “Have you spoken to Azriel since he left Velaris?”
Elain looks surprised at the sudden question, and doesn’t remember to be guarded when she answers, “No. Why?”
Nesta shrugs, her heels thumping loudly on the linoleum stairs. “Because I know what happened between you two. I know why he left.”
Elain halts midstep, grabbing Nesta’s arm and turning to face her with wide eyes. “What do you mean, you know? He told you?”
“He told Cassian, and Cassian told me.” Nesta hardly cares that she’s being a poor friend to Azriel by spilling all this to Elain, and continues, “If I had known he was such a coward, I would have kicked him out of our place a long time ago… but I figured I would get your input on it first.”
She’s never seen Elain look so genuinely pleading before. “Get my input on what?” Elain breathes. “What did he say about me? Was it something I did?”
At that torn face that borders on heartbroken, Nesta decides that she’ll do more than kick Azriel out of the cabin. She’ll kick him off the whole mountain.
She shoves Elain’s back to get Elain detached from her and moving down the stairs again, and as they walk, Nesta spills everything she knows. She tells Elain about Rhysand’s talent of shoving his nose into places it doesn’t belong, and how one conversation with him managed to convince Azriel to ditch Elain for good. She tells her about how instead of having a straightforward conversation with Elain, Azriel chose to leave the city and hide out in the mountains like a pussy. She might sound blunt, but Elain needs blunt. She needs to know the unfiltered truth of things.
By the time they reach the floor where their cars are parked, Elain is silent. “Did he really say that?” she finally asks quietly. “He said he wants me to hate him?”
“That’s what I heard.” After a moment, Nesta feels the need to add, “You should hate him, though. He fucked up bad.”
When Elain continues strolling for their cars without replying, concern bites at Nesta. “You are mad at him, right? And mad at Rhysand? You’re not going to forgive them, right?”
“I’m not a total pushover,” Elain snaps. She stares at the cement ground as they walk. “I’m just… more disappointed than anything else. He gave up so easily.” She chuckles without humor. “It sounds like he was looking for an excuse to get away from me.”
Nesta frowns. “I don’t think he would’ve spent so long moping around our house if he wanted to leave you.” Though they can never truly know what Azriel was thinking or feeling until he grows a pair and talks to Elain. Still, she shudders at having to defend him.
“I take it he doesn’t mope anymore?” Elain says.
Nesta doesn’t know how to answer that truthfully. She knows there’s more to Azriel than he lets her and Cassian see, and she knows he’s gotten better at keeping his feelings to himself. So she says, “It looks like he’s doing better, but I really don’t know.” They reach Elain’s car.
“Were you in love with him?” Nesta suddenly asks. Or worse, is she still in love with him?
Elain digs around for her keys in her purse. “You know how I am. Of course I was.”
“Not anymore, though?”
Elain looks up, keys now in hand. “It’s hard to still feel love for someone I haven’t talked to in two months.”
Then it wasn’t real love. Nesta is relieved, even though it doesn’t change the fact that Elain is hurting either way.
Elain jabs her keys at Nesta and says sharply, “Don’t you dare punish him for what he did. That’s for me to decide on.”
Nesta’s brow creases in refusal. “I’ll do what I need to do, and you do you.” She’ll have to be careful with her plotting, though, considering Azriel is Cassian’s brother.
“No.” Elain surprises Nesta with the force in her tone. “He’s your roommate and your friend. Keep treating him like it.”
Elain makes it sound easier than it is, and Nesta wants to argue until she sees Feyre heading down the parking lot toward them. “Fine,” she grumbles halfheartedly.
Elain gives her one final long look, not of threat but something else. “Thank you—for inviting us today.” That’s all she says before getting in the driver’s seat of her little red car. At the same time, Feyre catches up to them.
“Where are you parked?” Feyre pants as she approaches Nesta. She sounds a bit out of breath, like she ran to get here before Nesta could drive off alone.
Nesta points down the lot to where her scrappy old car is waiting for her, and Feyre straightens up with a grim smile. “I’ll walk you.”
Nesta knows that arguing isn’t worth it, so she allows Feyre to trail her the rest of the way to her car. Once they reach the old thing, Nesta gives a curt goodbye and heads straight for the driver’s door. Before she can touch the handle, Feyre attacks her from behind with a hug.
“Get off me, freak!” Nesta tries to jostle her way out of Feyre’s arms. She tries being nice to her sisters one time and this is what she gets—
Feyre only squeezes her tighter. “You don’t have to hug back. Just let me love you my way.”
Nesta squirms for another second before stilling. Swallowing tightly, she stares at the reflection of herself and Feyre in the car door window. One of her hands goes to where Feyre’s hands are clasped around her stomach, and she stands there without moving. She can’t remember the last time she shared affection with a family member like this, but it must have been before their mother died.
The warmth at Nesta’s back doesn’t leave, like Feyre is trying to pour all her understanding into the hug. Silently saying, I’m finally starting to get it.
In a way, Nesta is starting to get it, too. After all, how do sisters with such a complicated history begin to forgive each other?
Not by apologizing, but by doing better in the future.
***
On her way home, Nesta remembers at the last minute to stop by Gwyn’s apartment to pick up one of her sweaters. She doesn’t know when Gwyn started raiding her closet like it was a free mall, but she has a school event next week and doesn’t plan on letting her nicest clothes rot at Gwyn’s forever.
Nesta enters using the key beneath the doormat, knowing Gwyn is at work and won’t mind her stopping by. She scans the living and dining areas for a glimpse of brown cashmere, but only finds scattered books and a disorganized mess. Her fingers twitch with the urge to stop and tidy up the place, but she continues hunting for the sweater. Gwyn promised it would be waiting in plain sight for her.
Realizing the scatter-brained girl probably forgot to put the sweater out for her, Nesta pauses in the hallway leading to Gwyn’s bedroom and bites her lip. She doesn’t know if bedrooms are off limits or not, considering how often Gwyn and Emerie have barged into hers, but she knows she doesn’t want to make a second trip here just for a sweater.
Without giving it further thought, she strides into Gwyn’s room—
And yelps to find Gwyn on the bed.
Except she isn’t alone, and there’s definitely another body under the dark green blanket with her, and whoever it is definitely has their head between her legs.
Nesta spins away at the same time she hears Gwyn’s cry of surprise. She braces one hand against the doorjamb and presses the other to her freezing cold face, not having any words for what she just saw.
“Nesta?” Gwyn calls from behind her. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Um, have you seen my sweater? It’s the expensive one.” She’ll just grab it and leave. Or maybe she’ll just leave—yes, that sounds like a good idea.
“Nesta?” a new, deeper voice repeats.
Gwyn hisses, and Nesta freezes because she recognizes that voice. She wants to be wrong so badly, but she has to whirl back around to confirm for herself.
“Azriel?”
***
a/n: i decided to cut this chapter short and add an extra one to flesh out my silly little gwynriel subplot. so if there’s anything specific or random you wanna see happen in the next chapter tell me bc i might have space for prompts!!
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Assuage: Chapter 25
Yoongi x Reader
Genre: ABO (Alpha/Beta/Omega) dynamics, angst, fluff, smut, enemies to lovers
Warnings: Mentions of near death.
Author’s Note: This is the final chapter of this story! I will be posting an epilogue soon but other than that, this is it! Thank you all for the support that you’ve given this story, it’s much appreciated! Love you guys and I hope you enjoy it!
A few weeks later, Yoongi was slowly making his way through the pack territory as he ambled towards Namjoon and Hyorin’s cabin.
He was enjoying the fresh air because you had barely let him out of your sight since he had woken up. He grumbled about it to you but inside, he was extremely happy to have you around because the process of recovery had been a bitch for him, even though he was Prime.
After stepping up onto their porch, he knocked on the door and waited patiently until the door opened.
“Hey Yoongi,” Hyorin grinned and Yoongi bowed lightly towards her.
“Hi Hyo,” he replied. “Is Namjoon here?”
“Yeah, come on in,” she waved him towards her and he stepped inside, waiting until she had closed the front door to follow behind her as she led the way into the living room.
“You have a visitor Joon,” Hyorin announced and Yoongi looked at Namjoon, who was laying down flat on the couch.
“Yoongi, hi,” he grunted as he attempted to sit up on his own. Hyorin rushed over to him, helping him sit up and then grabbing some pillows to stuff around his body so that he’d be comfortable. “I had it.”
“No, you didn't,” she scoffed before looking over at Yoongi. “The idiot gets multiple ribs broken and still thinks he’s Superman.”
“Maybe it’s an Alpha thing because I’ve been the same way,” Yoongi chuckled.
“Trust me, Y/N-ah has been ranting to us about it too,” Hyorin giggled as she sat down next to her husband.
“Please, sit down Yoongi,” Namjoon said and Yoongi nodded before sitting down in one of the easy chairs that was placed right across from the couch. “I’m sure that you’re wondering why I asked you here.”
“Kind of,” he nodded nervously. “Y/N-ah didn’t tell me much.”
“I didn’t tell her much on purpose,” Namjoon smiled.
“Joon wanted to talk to you about pack business,” Hyorin rolled her eyes playfully. “But I wanted to thank you.”
“For what?”
“For saving my husband’s life,” she told him. “I didn’t tell him this until after the fact but I was so sure that I wasn't going to see him again after he left that morning and I had no idea what I would’ve done without him. Thanks to you though, I didn’t have to find out and I’m so grateful Yoongi.”
“Well, I just did what I felt was right,” Yoongi shrugged bashfully, attempting to play off the praise even though his cheeks were red.
“Still, our family is indebted to you,” Hyorin said. Just then, Yoongi heard the sound of infants crying and both Hyorin and Namjoon sighed heavily.
“You stay and talk, I’ll go,” Hyorin said to Namjoon before getting up from the couch. Instead of walking right out of the room, she stepped over to Yoongi and bent down, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.
“Thank you,” she whispered as she stood up straight again and Yoongi smiled widely as he watched her pace out of the living room. When Yoongi turned to look back at Namjoon, his eyes widened when he saw that Namjoon was now standing up, although he was clearly struggling to stay balanced.
“Hey, what are you doing?” Yoongi questioned as he moved to get up but Namjoon held his hand out stopping him. He then bent at the waist, bowing deeply to Yoongi and Yoongi was taken aback by the sign of respect. Namjoon then groaned loudly, which made Yoongi get up and rush over to help him.
“You could’ve just said thank you,” Yoongi huffed as he helped Namjoon stand up straight again before gently easing him back down onto the couch.
“You deserve more than just a thank you,” Namjoon said as he got comfortable on the couch again, waving his hand at Yoongi to let him know that he was alright. Instead of going back to the chair, Yoongi sat down next to him. “Hyo would’ve never let me get away with that if she were still in here though.”
“And for good reason, obviously,” Yoongi snickered, making Namjoon roll his eyes.
“Anyways, I called you here because I wanted to talk to you about Seo-hyun’s pack,” Namjoon said.
“Oh,” Yoongi uttered in surprise. “Ok, go ahead.”
“Since Seo-hyun is gone now, there’s a question about what to do with his pack members that are still here,” Namjoon began. “Hobi suggested that we take over their territory and use it as an extension of our current territory and assimilate the remaining pack members into our pack.”
“I get the idea that you don’t like that suggestion,” Yoongi said.
“I’m not the biggest fan of it, no,” Namjoon shook his head. “We don’t really have the need for the extra territory and it’s a little too far away from here to be considered a true extension. Plus, forcing people into packs that they don’t want to be in only breeds contempt and I think we’ve all had enough fighting to last several lifetimes.”
“Agreed,” Yoongi laughed. “So, what did you have in mind then?”
“That’s just what I was going to ask you,” Namjoon said. “Being as though you’re more familiar with them, I was hoping that you could suggest something.” Yoongi nodded his head slowly, taking a few seconds to think before an idea struck him.
“Well, maybe you could do like a tax thing?” Yoongi said. “Like, you can allow them to remain a pack on their own and keep the territory but they’d have to pay a tax to our pack in order to keep it.”
“You think they’d be fine with that?” Namjoon questioned.
“Seo-hyun was the psychopath, not them,” Yoongi chuckled. “I think it’ll be fine.”
“In that case, I think it’s a great idea,” Namjoon smiled. “Since I’m going to be out of commission for the next few months, I’ve been splitting up the duties of the pack between our higher status pack members and since you know that pack, I was wondering if you’d be willing to oversee the transition process?”
“Of course,” Yoongi nodded with a wide smile. “I’d be happy to.” Just then, Hyorin came back into the living room with one of their daughters in her arms.
“Could you take her?” Hyorin asked Namjoon as she walked over to stand in front of him. “I’m trying to feed Sena but this one just wants attention.”
“Sure,” Namjoon agreed, holding his hands out and Hyorin handed Mi-ra over to him before quickly walking back out of the living room. Yoongi watched as Namjoon brought Mi-ra close to his chest, reaching down and letting her grab onto his finger.
“You know, I was so sure that I was going to die out there,” Namjoon suddenly confessed. “Seo-hyun was so insistent on it and I knew that I probably wouldn’t be able to out fight him.”
“That wouldn’t have been your fault though,” Yoongi pointed out. “Even though he was a power hungry asshole, he was a skilled fighter.”
“True, but I didn’t die, thanks to you,” Namjoon murmured as he looked back up at him. “It’s because of you that I got to come home to my wife, to my daughters and I owe you my life.”
“Well, I know what it’s like when a pack loses an amazing leader and I wasn’t going to let that happen if I could stop it,” Yoongi explained. “So no need to owe me your life or anything like that. Just consider us even for you taking me in when I had no where else to go.”
“Deal,” Namjoon smiled as he rocked Mi-ra gently in his arms. “You know, our father would’ve loved you. You’re a lot like him.”
“Taehyung told me the same thing,” Yoongi laughed. “The day that the girls were born actually.”
“Well, it’s true,” Namjoon told him. “I’m happy that you’re going to be a part of our family.”
“Me too,” Yoongi murmured quietly. “Me too.”
.........................................
Once Yoongi left Namjoon’s house, he instinctively began to walk to your house since he hadn’t seen you since that morning before you left to go to the infirmary cabin.
As he walked though, he picked up on your scent and realized that it was leading towards the edge of the territory. It didn’t take Yoongi long to figure out where you were so he changed his direction and headed towards the stream.
Once he got there, he saw you sitting on top of your favorite rock, your knees pulled up against your chest as you watched the water ripple beneath you.
“Hey baby,” Yoongi called out and you raised your head, smiling softly when you saw him.
“Hi,” you greeted him, puckering your lips for a kiss and he leaned over, kissing you for a few seconds before pulling away.
“What are you doing out here?” He wondered as he pulled himself up onto the rock to sit next to you. “It’s cold out here. I’m surprised that the stream is even still running.”
“I don’t mind much and I’m just thinking,” you shrugged as you looked back at the water. “This is the freest that I’ve felt in a long time.”
“Me too,” Yoongi agreed.
“I never thought you’d be the reason why I feel so free though,” you admitted before looking at him. “Everything has been so crazy lately that I haven’t been able to really talk to you, but I have to tell you that I’m so thankful that Taehyung found you and convinced us to take you in.”
“I am too, because I got to meet you,” Yoongi muttered as he reached over and grabbed one of your hands in his, intertwining your fingers with his. “I have a home with you now and that means everything to me. You mean everything to me.”
“Ditto,” you cooed, leaning over and kissing him passionately for a few seconds. When you both finally pulled away, you giggled as he moved to press kisses to both of your cheeks.
“How did your talk with my brother go?” You asked him. “What did he want? Did it have to do with your old pack?”
“What the fuck, how did you know that?” Yoongi gasped.
“I know everything and you should know that by now,” you giggled.
“Yes, it was about my old pack,” he confirmed. “He wanted my opinion on what to do with the remaining members so I suggested letting them keep their territory and just pay us taxes on it.”
“That sounds good but are you sure?” You wondered. “I mean, you could go back and lead that pack now, since Seo-hyun isn’t in your way anymore. It is your birthright after all.”
“I could but it wouldn’t be the same and truthfully, I don’t want it,” he confessed. “Besides, taking over that pack would mean leaving this one and I couldn’t leave you here.”
“You should at least think about it,” you shrugged, looking down at the ground.
“Hey, look at me,” he whispered and you sighed before looking at him. “There’s no consideration needed. I am not going to leave you for a pack that hasn’t been my pack for a long time, even before I joined this one.”
“I was hoping you’d say that,” you grinned, making Yoongi laugh.
“You know, someone still owes me a discussion about bites,” he brought up and you rolled your eyes playfully.
“Heal up all the way first and then we’ll talk,” you smirked and Yoongi just shook his head at you.
“I love you Y/N-ah,” he said.
“I love you too Yoongi,” you replied.
As the two of you continued to sit together and talk, Yoongi realized that this was the first time in a long time that the feeling of loneliness that had been a constant presence in his life since he was 16 years old was almost nonexistent now. He had found a pack that took him in and treated him as one of their own, he had found friends that became the family that he had lost so many years ago and best of all, he had you who loved him despite all of his flaws and traumas.
Yoongi had absolutely no idea how he had managed to luck up on such an amazing new life but he knew one thing for sure: he was going to appreciate it the best way that he knew how.
.........................................
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#bts#bangtanarmynet#bts reactions#bts abo#bts suga#bts yoongi#yoongi x reader#suga x reader#yoongi smut#yoongi angst#yoongi fluff#suga smut#sga angst#suga fluff#bts fluff#bts smut#bts angst#bts x reader
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matched | ten (m)
title: matched
pairing: alien!ten x black!reader
genre: sci-fi, angst, fluff, romance, smut
summary: the quest for love leads you to a new dating app with a slight twist—and straight into the inbox of someone who’s light-years out of your usual dating pool.
word count: 9.7k
warnings: familial conflict, strained parental relationship, mentions of cheating, prejudice/discrimination based on species, body modifications/alien biology, unprotected sex, oral (female receiving), dom!ten, photography during sex, cumshot, squirting, some spanking
a/n: as always, i lose all impulse control whenever i get a ten request so i have finished this sooner than i expected
i decided to lean more into the romance plotline than stress too much over the realism of the science-fiction elements with this fic, so there are some inaccuracies/impossibilities...but that’s fiction for you 🙃
AM 2074 (After Migration)
You are lonely.
Your last breakup did not end well, to say the least, and you haven’t dated for a while since then. It seemed like a smart move—a safe one—to shun all romantic relationships until you felt ready again. At the beginning, you were glad to be alone for a while, to regroup and rediscover yourself worrying about another person’s opinions on everything you did. To not have to deal with someone else’s drama.
The toll of not having companionship is gradually getting to you, though. Even if your last relationship was a mess more often than it wasn’t, you still long for those good moments, like going on night dates on the weekends and sharing pillowtalk into long hours of the early morning. You hadn’t realized how much you’d missed those things until all the emotions of it crashed down on you at once.
Your friend Malika claims to have a solution for your loneliness. Now, sitting at this outdoor cafe, you’re simultaneously eager and hesitant to hear what she has to propose, knowing her track record for silly plots.
With twinkling eyes, she looks at you and says, “You should try a dating app.” She clasps her hands together and puts them on the table like she’s made a grand announcement. You absorb her words for a few moments, looking out at the street across from you and watching cars—some hovering above the asphalt, some driven autonomously, and many still with human drivers—pass by.
You eventually sigh, your shoulders slumping. “That’s the big solution you called me out here for? People have been using dating apps for decades, that’s nothing new.”
“Exactly! The fact that they’re still popular even in 2074 is proof that they work, Y/N. You can put yourself out there and talk to dozens of guys without even meeting them in person. If one connection doesn’t work out, you don’t have anything to lose, and you don’t have to see the guy ever again.”
“Maybe I’ll lose my sweet time and patience during the process, though.”
Malika shakes her head and types something into her hologram pad, then holds it up for you to see. The hologram displays a dating app called matched—it reminds you of what Tinder was supposedly like before it became eclipsed by more advanced platforms, though that happened years before you were even born. “This one is kinda new, but it’s gotten popular fast and has good success rates. I’ve tried it before and met some nice guys. Give it at least one chance before you hate on it.”
“Ugh, I don’t know...there are always so many weirdos hanging out on those apps. What if I meet someone who keeps a collection of severed alien tentacles in an icebox in their house? Like that one guy who showed up on the news?”
“...Really?” Malika rolls her eyes. “You’re so dramatic. Stop getting in your own way and just take a risk for once.”
You shake your head at her optimism. “I’ll do it because I know you won’t leave me alone about it, but don’t expect me to find some great love story on this app.”
--
Once you download the app and start making an account, it becomes pretty obvious that this isn’t just a regular dating platform.
Choosing your gender and age preferences is normal enough, and you pass through those screens quickly until you get to one that gives you two new options.
➤ Species Preference
❐ Human
❐ Extraterrestrial
Whoa. Aliens? An alien-friendly dating app?
You weren’t overly familiar with the mechanics of dating apps, and you certainly didn’t consider that ones allowing aliens might’ve existed until now. It had been 15 years since the first contact with aliens was established, and a little less than a decade had passed since aliens began migrating to Earth and taking up permanent residence—and vice versa.
Humans had little problem with accepting aliens’ technological adaptations and claiming them as their own, though they were far less welcoming of the aliens themselves. That resulted in strained interactions between the two species, with aliens trying their best to assimilate and humans questioning their every motive. As far as personal relationships went, interspecies mingling between humans and extraterrestrials was still fairly uncommon—something that only people who were considered to be on the fringes of society participated in. There were “normal citizens of society” who built relationships with aliens, but many of them also kept it solely as a kink or fetish to be done only in the dark.
You decide to check both options. It feels a little scary, like diving headfirst into the unknown, but you are open to it either way. You’ve interacted with aliens before, both as kind acquaintances and near strangers, and they’ve always been relatively normal in the grand scheme of things—beings trying to survive and make a life for themselves like anyone else. Certainly not plotting how to take over Earth as many people have speculated. If they really wanted to, they possess the technology to have done that ten times over already.
You take a while trying to come up with a clever bio and spend an even longer time mulling over which pictures of yourself to choose, but you eventually complete your profile.
The first few matches you make are not very successful.
Whether it’s human guys feeding you terrible pickup lines or alien guys who can’t make it past the language barrier—or who ask you to move back with them to their home planet after two days of talking—you don’t see any potential love interests during your first two weeks of using the app.
You’re not sure what kind of skills Malika used to make multiple good matches, but maybe you need to interrogate her so you can sharpen your own. So you decide to do exactly that.
“Don’t give up on it just yet. Just be yourself—which also means not being afraid to cuss someone out if they come at you crazy. Some of these dudes lowkey like the mean girl shit, though, which is kinda weird.” Malika speaks from the shimmering translucent mirage of your hologram pad as you walk through the park one afternoon. She couldn’t make it out to meet you today, but you managed to snatch a moment to talk to her even if it couldn’t be face-to-face. “You probably shouldn’t expect to find a boyfriend in the first few days—”
“Girl, I don't think anyone was expecting that. Duh.”
“I’m saying, just give it time!”
“Okay, but listen. You didn’t tell me it’s also for aliens. Have you dated one before? You never told me!” You lower your voice then, not wanting anyone nearby to eavesdrop on your conversation and hear that part. You feel kinda bad for even thinking that way, but it’s hard to shake the stigma associated with interacting with aliens.
“Yes, and it was the best sex I ever had, but maybe I’ll tell you about that later.”
“Sis. Don’t withhold tea from me!”
“Someday when you’re not literally standing in the middle of the park, okay?” Malika shakes her head, smiling.
“Don’t forget about it, either.”
“I won’t. And you know what to do if you find a guy. I want to be the first to know!”
“Sure, sure. I wouldn’t hold my breath on it, though.”
You decide to spend some more time on the app after that conversation instead of just deleting it like you’d planned to initially. And one day, you get another new match that catches your eye out of the many others.
“Ten? Like the number…?” Besides the interesting name, you immediately see that he’s an extraterrestrial. From the Sommu race, as it says in his bio.
You click on his profile.
You’re a little surprised by how pretty he is, which isn’t to say the other aliens you matched with were all hideous. But he doesn’t have tentacles coming out of his face or two sets of eyes, either. The most noticeable thing about his alienness is his blue skin.
“Likes...dancing, art, music, okay so we have an artist type here...dislikes...fruit. Huh. That’s...interesting.”
The pictures of him on his profile are all deliberately artistic, as in they aren’t just some half-baked selfies he took with a hologram pad. You grow increasingly curious. It’s safe to say he’s either super into himself or just appreciates the art of good photography, and you figure there’s only one way to find out. You decide to take the first step and message him.
➤ Nice pictures :)
You don’t know when or if you’ll get a message back, since he’s not online when you send it, so you try not to get your hopes up too much. Maybe you should’ve tried to come up with something more cool and funny—nice pictures?—but you try to remember Malika’s advice and roll your eyes to yourself. There’s no point in getting stressed over a dude you don’t even know yet.
You eventually get a reply back from Ten.
➤ thank you 🙏 are you into photography too? you have talent for taking beautiful photos
You giggle quietly to yourself; another line, but it’s definitely one of the tamer ones you’ve received. Why not see where this one goes?
The first conversation you have consists mostly of the regular getting-to-know-you talk, such as your personal interests and favorite things. You get him to talk more about his photography hobby, which he’s eager to tell you all about—as well as his penchant for art.
To your optimism, you and Ten quickly get comfortable with each other. You soon forget about all the other potential matches you have, but those don't matter much to you anymore. So far, you’ve connected the most successfully with Ten, which means you’re more than glad to stop spending your time reading boring messages from guys who’ve only pretended to have things in common with you.
Things go so well, in fact, that he asks you to meet in person not long after you begin talking to each other.
For your first meetup, you decide to meet at a park nearby—the same one you’d been walking through the day you were talking to Malika about that very dating app. You and Ten have talked through the hologram pad on multiple occasions, so you’re more reassured that you’re not starting from scratch with some faceless being. Still, the thrill of seeing each other in person for the first time is undeniable.
“Y/N?” You turn your head at the sound of your name, and you see Ten walking towards you.
“Ten!” You give him a smile, waving at him. You feel a little more nervous than you usually would on a date, though you can’t tell if it’s the good kind of nervousness. You mostly chalk it up to not having been out with anyone in a while.
Ten’s just as pretty up close as he was in the photos and on camera, if not even more attractive; he’s breathtaking in the light of the sun. His hair is styled nicely, meticulously-place strands curling over his forehead, and his clothes perfectly outline his slim body. He looks pleased to see you, his lips curving into a coy smile.
“You could’ve given me a warning,” he says as he outstretches his arms to you. You hug him, but not without a questioning glance on your face. He is warm and smells good, like juniper, which almost makes you forget about your question.
“Warned you about what?”
“How you’re even more beautiful in person.” He says this at your ear before pulling away, and it makes the back of your neck bloom with heat.
“Oh, you’re laying it on thick.” You giggle nervously, shifting on your feet.
“Are you ready to go?” he asks.
“Yes, let’s go!”
You leave the park to go to an aquarium nearby, which is the biggest one in the city. You find out quickly that Ten is easily fascinated by the wide range of creatures there. Despite living on Earth for a few years now, he hasn’t seen a lot of them until now.
You walk through the blue-lit hallways together, surrounded by water everywhere you turn. You observe the different animals up close and from far away, reading information about them from the signs beside their tanks.
“What the hell is that?” Ten says through laughter, looking at the squished-up mouth of a stingray as it floats in front of the glass, baring its pale underside to you both.
“It’s a stingray!”
He scrunches his nose up. “It’s ugly. But kinda cute, too…”
You both end up staying at the aquarium longer than you expected, with Ten wanting to see practically every animal they had on display; plus, you got to see some you weren’t familiar with before either.
After visiting the aquarium, you go downtown—which is otherwise known as food truck central, where you can get pretty much anything you’re craving. This area is always quite busy this time of evening, especially on the weekends. Food in hand, you and Ten end up walking through a few of the quieter back streets where there’s not as many people—streets where the closely-packed buildings give way to the grassy yards and paved roads of nearby neighborhoods.
“Should we talk about our families now, or is it too soon?” you say jokingly. “You know, that seems to be the only thing we haven’t mentioned after talking about everything else under the sun.” You’re not entirely sure why you bring this up while knowing your own relationship with your parents isn’t great, but you are curious to hear about Ten’s family.
“I don’t really know mine,” he replies.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” You feel a little bad about it, thinking there was definitely a reason why he never mentioned the topic.
Ten looks confused for a moment before shaking his head. “No, it’s not like that. Sommu never form close bonds with their parents or siblings.”
You give him a curious look. “Why not?”
“Well, we aren’t born or raised the human way,” he explains. “Our parents have a bunch of us at once, raise us for the first couple of years, and then go off to reproduce again and continue the population.”
You’re startled at that. “Just for a few years? How do you survive?”
“We age faster...both physically and mentally. We become independent around 4 or 5 years old, and we can live without our parents.”
“That’s...definitely very different.” You try to wrap your mind around that information, though it’s difficult. Even with your not-so-healthy relationship with your parents, you couldn’t imagine having no family whatsoever at such a young age. You also can’t even begin to comprehend what it’d look like to be taking care of yourself at only 5 years old, fast aging or not. “But, you said a bunch at once...how is that possible?”
“We are formed inside things like eggs. It’s not like your form of childbirth. See?” And you become flustered when he lifts his shirt up to show his lack of a belly button, right there in the middle of the street.
“Uh, wow.”
“The human concepts of ‘family’ and ‘relationships’ are...very new to me.” He seems a little embarrassed to admit this. “That’s why I, um, joined a dating app, for more experience...I was told I need to learn to be more…” He searches for the word. “Im...pertinent?”
“...Empathetic?”
“Yeah, that.”
“So, did that come from a previous partner, or…?”
“Yeah, I’ve had two relationships since I’ve been here.” He seems wistful now, maybe a little sad. “They didn’t work out well. Maybe we were too different.” Before the mood can shift too far into negativity, Ten turns to you with a soft smile. “But maybe that’s not the kind of thing you want to hear while we’re on a date.”
You shake your head and smile. “I don’t mind, it’s interesting to know about.” More than interesting. You want to ask him a hundred more things about what his life was like when he first got to Earth. “Anyway, you can never have too many new starts in life. Let’s enjoy this one.”
--
At the end of your date, Ten walks with you back to your place. It’s almost midnight at this point, with you both walking all the way back from downtown. You’d drawn more than a few skeptical stares over the course of the day, but you both did your best to ignore those and just focus on each other.
“I’m really glad we got to go out today, it was fun,” you say, hugging your arms to yourself to shield against the cool spring breeze.
“I think I haven’t had that much fun in a while,” he agrees. Ten smiles wide then, the tip of his tongue sticking out from between his teeth, and you have to do a double take.
“What—”
“Oh, that. Sometimes I forget everyone doesn’t have this...” And when he sticks his tongue out, you see clearly now that it’s split halfway down the middle. Sort of like how a snake’s would be. “D’you like it?” His expression is wicked when he asks this, and a strange heat sweeps through your body.
“Wow.” You cringe at your lackluster answer, but that’s the only thing you can muster up at the moment, too busy internally questioning yourself. You’ve seen body modders with split tongues in documentaries and on the internet, but it’s never appealed to you like this before, and you don’t know what to do with that new realization.
“It’s okay, it takes some getting used to.” He gives you a smile that might be called innocent by anyone else, but to your eyes it’s quite obvious he’s proud about making you flustered.
“Getting used to...yeah, I’m sure.” There are about 15 different questions you want to ask him about that, too, but you aren’t going there on the first date.
“So...can I expect to see you again?”
“Of course.” You smile again at the hopeful note in his tone. “Just let me know whenever you want to go out again.”
Before Ten leaves, he places a hand on your shoulder and kisses you on the cheek. It’s a simple and short kiss, but it still makes you blush beneath your brown skin.
You wave goodbye to him from your doorstep as he goes, feeling like you’ve finally done something right for the first time in a long time.
You’d taken a chance with dating an extraterrestrial, someone so different from yourself and your species, and you figured it would be a new experience. Obviously. What you did not bet on, however, was the idea that you’d fall for Ten so fast.
After three months of dating exclusively, you feel like you could say you love him, which is frighteningly quick for you; though you don’t tell him this yet.
You’ve decided to bring him to meet your family. The idea frightens you, because your parents have never been very receptive to the aliens’ migration. But you are still holding out some hope that maybe they’ll realize all their assumptions were wrong, and that you’ve found a nice man who you love and who you’re sure loves you just as much. Whether he’s human or not shouldn’t matter.
You manage to set a date when all your schedules match up so you can bring Ten over to your parent’s house. Ten is nervous—more nervous than he was when you went on your first date—which you find a little surprising. You’ve gotten used to him being the one who you can lean on, who always seems to know the right answer.
“Do you think it will go well?” he asks, his tone implying he’s not confident of the answer.
“I hope so.” You give him a smile that you hope is reassuring and squeeze his hand.
When your parents open the door, there’s visible surprise on their faces. You’d already told them your boyfriend was not human, which drew doubtful responses when you first said it, but they’re acting as if they never knew that information—as if this is the first time they’re seeing an alien, period.
“Um…hi, mom, dad.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Ten says, though his own tone is overly formal, like he doesn’t know how he should speak. “I’m Ten.”
Your parents pause for a few moments longer. Finally, the awkward quiet is broken. “We thought you were just messing,” your dad says, though he steps out of the way to let you both come in, if a bit reluctantly.
“I—no.” You’re uncertain how to respond to that, though you don’t feel optimistic about what it entails. Your mother doesn’t say anything at all, just stares at you and Ten like you’re both strangers who’ve just waltzed in uninvited. She goes back in the kitchen to finish dinner once the door is closed, not saying anything to either one of you, and you already feel a cold pit settling in the bottom of your stomach.
Your dad sits in the living room with you and Ten, and another awkward silence ensues as your dad gives a stiff smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. He clasps his fingers together and pulls them apart repeatedly, like they’ll give him the answers for what’s going on.
“This is just a fling, right? Of course you won’t be staying with this ma—” Your dad almost says man but then stutters, thinking maybe the term isn’t appropriate since Ten isn’t human. He makes a vague gesture to fill in the space of the missing word.
“It’s not a fling,” you say, feeling like you’ve had cold water poured down your back. You’re sitting straight and still on the couch, and it’s not comfortable, but you’re too tense to move. Ten is almost equally stiff beside you.
“Y/N, we just want you to make good decisions for yourself.” That’s what your dad says out loud, though the look in his eyes finishes the rest of that sentence: And I don’t think this is a good decision.
“I am,” you insist. “I don’t need to be told that over and over again.”
“Me and Y/N are happy together,” Ten explains, and your dad seems a little shocked that he’s decided to speak.
“Do you truly think you’re what she needs?” your dad asks. You’re not sure what makes you more angry; the question itself, or the fact that he keeps his tone non-accusatory and light, as if he’s only asking something like where do you work? Like the answer doesn’t matter because he’s already made up his mind.
“As long as Y/N wants to keep seeing me, there’s no reason to stop our relationship.”
A sound of displeasure comes from your mother in the kitchen, and your skin prickles. Your dad nods to Ten’s answer, but he does so in a way that conveys he just wants this conversation to be over rather than consider anything that was said.
You deeply regret not leaving straight after that failed discussion, but you soon find out just how bad it can get once you all make it to the dinner table. Your mother is chillingly silent for the first half of the dinner, acting like neither you nor Ten exist, while your dad attempts to make awkward small talk about how things are going.
There comes a point where you can no longer handle the cold sweat and the nerves, and you put your utensils down. Not that you had much of an appetite anyway.
“Why won’t you even talk to me?”
Your mother glares. “You can’t guess? What kind of question is that to ask?”
You falter. You don’t know why she always does this to you. Ask ridiculous rhetorical questions that you both already know the answer to. Now you must sit here and explain why you asked like it isn’t already obvious.
“I’m visiting after I haven’t been here in a while. With my boyfriend. I thought...I don’t know. The least you could do—” Your mother shakes her head at the word “boyfriend,” and you already know everything else you said went in one ear and out the other.
“I still don’t know why you didn’t just stay with Christian?” she interrupts. “He had a decent job, came to see us often, and was NOT an alien.”
“But he cheated on me,” you say, a sickness rising in you.
“That’s what men do sometimes, Y/N. You deal with it and move on. You’re supposed to be strong—fix whatever is making him do it.”
You and Ten exchange a tense look, and there is clear confusion whirling in his eyes, but you don’t say anything to each other. “That relationship is over. I’m trying to do something for myself for once, not whatever you think I should do.” Even saying those words makes you internally recoil, unsure of what the reaction will be, but you don’t take them back.
“You may be an adult but we’re still your parents. Frankly, you need to be with a man of your own race and species—not this blue Martian here. How would you even have kids?”
Ten gives a humorless laugh, like he wants to respond but doesn’t want to make the situation worse or offend you. “You know what, I should just leave,” he says abruptly, rising from his seat.
You get up quickly after he does, but your mom slams her hand on the table. “Y/N, you better not walk out of here.”
You feel defeated and exhausted, like you always do when dealing with your parents and their objections to every single thing you do, but you decide not to give in this time. “Stop treating me like I’m still a child, ma.”
“What does being an adult matter when you still act childish? Don’t come back here crying when this doesn’t work out. I’ve already warned you more than enough.”
“That isn’t going to happen.”
“So now you think you know better than me, when you couldn’t even keep a man the first time around.”
“This is hopeless,” you sigh, feeling wounded and angry at all these cheap shots.
“Y/N, please just listen to your mother for once…” your dad interjects, but you try your best to ignore their protests as you grab your things and follow Ten to the door. You can still hear your mother’s angry complaints as you close the front door behind you, though you’re surprised—but grateful—that neither of them attempt to follow you outside.
The ride back home is uncomfortable and mostly quiet.
“I’m sorry, Ten,” you say, feeling like you’ve been frozen from the inside out despite it being nearly summer. You’re near tears when you speak. Ten shakes his head, keeping his eyes on the road ahead.
“It’s not your fault…” he replies weakly, though his words aren’t very persuasive to either of you.
He still walks you up to your door when you arrive back at your place, trailing slightly behind you. The night air is distractingly humid, wrapping around the both of you like a physical thing. Neither of you know what to say to each other.
When you get to your front door, you turn to look at him. “I shouldn’t have made you come. I should’ve known...”
“I wanted to come,” he points out. “You didn’t make me do anything.” Ten’s tone isn’t outright harsh, but the words are noticeably sharp. Maybe he realizes it, because his face softens as if he’s said something wrong.
You nod. It’s as if there’s a mountainous gap between you two that you just can’t cross right now. “I get it.” You say this almost mindlessly, because you’re not sure what you’re getting, exactly. Your hand rests on the doorknob. You don’t want to end the night on this awkward and painful note, but neither of you are making any progress with this lack of a real conversation. Maybe now isn’t the right time to try to talk about it.
“I think...I’ll just go home tonight.” You expected he’d say that, but the words still make your heart hurt, even if you don’t want them to. He looks like he might say something else, but he just gives you a small nod before starting off.
“Ten…” You don’t know what you want to ask of him or tell him, if anything, but his name slips from your lips like it’s something you can’t keep inside.
Ten stops for a moment and turns back to you. He steps closer again, leaning forward to give you a soft kiss on the lips. When he pulls back, his eyes hold you in place.
He mumbles, “I’m not mad at you,” before leaving.
More than anything, you want to know how Ten is doing, but you’re too ashamed to contact him for the first couple days after that mess of a night. Maybe he thinks you’re just like your parents and doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore. His reassurance at the door wasn’t enough to soothe your worries, and you end up tearing yourself up internally over it—repeatedly recalling the warmth of his lips and wondering if that’s maybe the last time you’ll ever feel it.
Similarly, nothing but radio silence comes from his end. He doesn’t respond even after you finally muster up the nerve to send him a text—a short text, but still a message all the same—and you fear he must really be done with you.
On Ten’s part, he does have one justification for it; he’s preoccupied with dealing with the avalanche of unpleasant memories and emotions that incident resurfaced. Everything about what your parents said and how they looked at him reminds him of his past and ongoing struggles with trying to assimilate on Earth.
Even though he’s often very sure of himself and what he wants, he begins wondering if he’s “enough” for you. Maybe you’ve just been humoring him this whole time, or you’ve decided your parents are right and you’d be better off with another human.
Those thoughts keep him up into the early morning hours, and he soon realizes he doesn’t want to let you go. In fact, he’s not sure what he’d do with himself if you decided to walk out of his life right now, and the idea of it makes him ill. Which makes him feel even more foolish for tuning you out.
Ten’s anxiety over losing you culminates in him standing on your doorstep again after almost a week of emptiness and not knowing how you were thinking or feeling—which has been killing him in its own way.
You’re not quite sure how to feel when you open the door and see him on the other side, but relief shoulders its way to the forefront.
“Y/N, I’m sorry—”
“Can you please—”
You both speak at the same time, your words breaking afterwards.
“You can talk first,” Ten says.
“Come in.” You let him in the door, and the words start spilling before you know how to stop them. “Ten, I-I’m...really sorry. I should’ve known better than to put you in that situation, but I thought…” Your words trail off. You don’t want to let him know just how desperate you still are for your parents’ approval sometimes. Even though it’s a fruitless case. “I just wanted it to go well. I want things to work now, for us. I really, really want things to work for us.”
Ten surprises himself with how quickly he moves to take you in his arms before the last words have even finished settling in his mind. He hugs you tightly. “I thought maybe you wouldn’t want me anymore,” he whispers, like he’s telling you something forbidden.
“That couldn’t happen.” You’re saddened he’d come to that conclusion. “But...it’s not fair for you to leave me in the dark, either. I want to help you...so would you please let me?”
Ten squeezes you a bit tighter, as if you might disappear from his arms. “I’m sorry I ghosted you...it brought back bad memories of how things were when I first got here. When people were more open about treating me like some kind of enemy. I didn’t know how to deal with it.” You tuck your chin into his shoulder and listen to his breathing, his heartbeat, the sound of his words. “Y/N, I’m not sure if I’m very good at love, or if I even know enough about it. Maybe the others were right and I’m kidding myself with something I’ll never properly learn. But, I…” His voice cracks. “I-I think I love you. I don’t want to hurt you.”
Entirely overwhelmed, you answer his admission with a long kiss, cupping his face in your hands. His response to your kiss is automatic, the knots of tension unraveling in your embrace.
“I love you, Ten,” you whisper against his lips after you separate. Here and now, it doesn’t feel too soon at all; there couldn’t be a better time to say it. His expression is a lot of things at once. Relief, happiness, contentment...he’s blushing, but it shows up as a darker blue on his already blue skin. When he smiles, it turns his whole face into a picture of joy.
--
“I want to go away.” Quietly, you tell him this as you rest your head in his lap.
You’re both lying on your couch, the room dim and the sound of rain occupying the silence. A downpour started coming down soon after Ten got to your place. You’ve sat there just like that and listened to the rain on the windows for the past couple hours, not wanting to do anything else or separate from each other. You knew he wouldn’t want to go home, and you didn’t even have to ask him to stay.
Ten���s been petting your hair the whole time. The motion of his fingers in your kinky strands makes you sleepy, but now the movements pause at your words.
“Go where?” he asks.
“Away from all this. My parents hate me, and they won’t let me have any peace as long as I’m with you. I just want to go away for a while.” Despite you overflowing with love after finally getting your feelings out in the open, the thought of your parents’ disapproval has lingered steadily in the recesses of your mind. You close your eyes against the tears that begin to well up. Ten’s quiet for a few more moments, and then begins stroking your head again.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
A few tears fall despite you trying to keep them in, and your eyelids flutter when you feel Ten’s fingers on your face, wiping them away. “Then we’ll go away.”
Ten’s homeland is a planet where the sun—or rather, a star called Proxima Centauri that’s much like the sun—is always out, no matter what time of day it is. There are days where it rains or gets cloudy, but night never falls and the star never dips any lower in the sky, always staying pinned in that same spot like a tack on a corkboard. That everlasting light throws your body clock off, and combined with this weird new form of jet lag associated with space travel, you are a mess for the first week or so after your arrival.
Ten makes a few jokes about fragile human bodies, but for the most part he tends to you as best as he knows how and tells you stories about how he grew up to get your mind off the discomfort. He feeds you these neon green drinks that don’t look like anything on Earth you’ve had before, and although they do make you feel better, you begin to think maybe you should’ve had a wellness plan before running off-planet.
You aren’t the only human who’s ever visited or even lived there, though, which gives you reassurance about adjusting to everything. By now, there’s a small population of human beings living here due to the interplanetary exchange initiated by Earth.
Before you left, Ten told you he had a small home in his homeland. You didn’t quite expect to hear this, since he’d been on Earth for a while now and had no family to return to. Though he’d migrated, he still expected to come back to his planet every so often, if only to visit. Now was as good a time as any.
Although many differences exist, the scenery is much like Earth’s; there are ecosystems with plants and animals and other living beings—like the Sommu themselves. Ten’s homeland is not filled with wall-to-wall technology like you’d expect an alien city to be, based on the small examples you’ve seen on Earth. You might compare it to the tropics back on Earth, with the Sommu yielding to nature’s rightful place in their ecosystem instead of clearing out whole forests or continually mining for resources. Ten is amused by your struggle to comprehend the newness and unfamiliarity of it all.
When you feel good enough to explore, he starts taking you to the beach often. It looks mostly like any other beach, but there are large coral forms that grow out of the ocean, reaching up towards the impossibly blue and constantly illuminated sky. Because there is no moon to guide the tides, the water is eerily still, the surface mirror-like—like a huge lake or pond that extends in almost every direction for miles. You’d almost believe it was a mirror if you hadn’t seen a bird-like creature skimming across the surface as it flew by, creating fleeting ripples.
You swim around a little in the still waters after Ten convinces you that you aren’t going to turn into a fish or something equally scary. He has to hold both your hands the entire time to get you to step in, and he doesn’t let go until you’re confident enough to explore the water on your own.
“Just focus on me, okay?” His smile is bright and shining against his blue skin, and he looks you directly in the eyes as he backs into the water, breaking the surreal stillness of it with his movements. “It’s just like the water on Earth.”
“Okay, okay,” you say uncertainly, gripping his hands and stepping in tentatively. The water does feel like any other water you’ve touched throughout your life, which helps you calm down slightly. His hands stay tight around yours as you get waist-deep into the water.
When you’re finally able to let go of him, he claps his hands more enthusiastically than the situation probably calls for. “Yay, you’re a big girl now!”
You roll your eyes at him. “You’re not funny, Ten.”
--
On a bright afternoon, Ten lets you into a room of his house you haven’t entered before. You’ve passed by this shining white door several times, but it’s always remained firmly shut until now.
“What’s in here?” you ask as you hold his hand.
“That’s what I’m going to show you.” He laughs and pushes the door open.
You think it’s a darkroom at first, seeing nothing but dim light and the shiny surfaces of what looks like photographs as your eyes adjust. But when he touches his hand to a panel on the wall and the lights come on, you realize it’s not a darkroom. More like a small gallery for all his pictures.
The “pictures” are physical, but they aren’t like the old Polaroids or film photos that have begun fading out of existence on Earth. They’re small crystalline squares that play eternally-moving videos on their glossy surfaces—a bit different from the translucent holograms Earth adopted. You step further into the room to look at them. It’d probably take days to explore them all, there are so many. Different scenes play out as soundless movies, and when you look for long enough, you realize they’re split into different categories. Numerous events within a life.
Many are of the beach, other scenic places around his homeland, oddly-shaped buildings, and plants in colors that there are no names on Earth for. You step closer to one of the walls to look at the collection of images more closely. You actually do “recognize” a select few, linking them together with old memories Ten had shared with you only weeks ago. There’s so much happening in these small snippets of time, so many stories you haven’t yet heard, that you feel like you could look at them forever and not get enough.
“This is...something else.” Your words seem inadequate, but you don’t quite know how to express your sheer wonder.
“I could take some of you,” Ten suggests, from somewhere behind you. “I want to.”
You glance back at him. “Hm, yeah.”
“I’m serious.” Ten comes up behind you to clasp his arms around your waist. He tucks his chin into your shoulder. His lips are close at your neck, and you let them linger there. One of your hands goes to his own hand that’s over your waist, and you run your fingertips over his knuckles as you gaze at the photo wall before you. “I think you’d be the perfect muse.”
“You could do that.” You’re still entranced with it all, and you already know you’ve made up your mind to let him take as many photos of you as he wants.
--
The next time you go to the beach, Ten takes some photos of you standing near the huge coral forms—or at least as close as you are willing to get—and he laughs at your lingering hesitation.
Still, the crystalline photos he takes of you are the embodiment of perfection. When you look over them later, watching yourself twirl around and strike silly poses in the water, you can almost hear the sound of your laughter twining together and feel the warmth of a star that’s not the sun on your skin.
“What if we stayed here?”
You ask Ten this while you’re lying in his bed, watching a kaleidoscope of shapes on the ceiling. The bedroom window is open to allow the breeze to come in. The ceiling of the bedroom—and every other room in the house—is more like an ever-changing reflection of shapes and colors than an actual ceiling. You might compare it to a mirror, like the surface of the ocean, but you think it’s much more complex than that. Sometimes you can see the distorted outline of yourself in it, like a funhouse mirror. Other times, you see the sky above.
Ten lies beside you with one hand behind his head and the other resting on his stomach, and he turns his head to look at you.
“Stayed?”
“If we just decided not to...go back to Earth.”
He pauses for a few moments. “Is that a good idea? You have a whole life there...and your friends…” Ten doesn’t mention your family, which you are grateful for.
You sigh. Nothing like a quick injection of reality after letting your imagination get ahead of you. “We’d have to go back. I’d have to tell them goodbye. And sort some other things out. Maybe it wouldn’t happen right now. But, after I do everything I need to do on Earth...maybe I could migrate here.”
“That’s a big decision to make...and it should be yours to decide.” Ten pauses again, like he’s weighing his words. “You know I don’t have many connections on Earth…” In other words, leaving Earth and returning home for good might not be as big of a deal for him as it would be for you.
You sit up and look out the window, seeing how the warm wind stirs the trees outside. “I want to.” You say it almost inaudibly, your words nearly carried off by the breeze. You turn back to him only to find him already there, sitting across from you and looking at you closely. Your faces are only inches from each other’s as he searches your eyes. “What do you want to do?”
“I’ll do anything you want to.” Ten’s voice is earnest, like he’d follow you to Hell and back if you asked, and you believe him.
Resting your hand on his cheek, you kiss him.
This kiss is a little different from the ones you’ve shared before—more yearning. More desperate. You kiss like there won’t be enough time to do all the things you want to do with each other—to each other. His split tongue bumps against yours, caresses it, and it causes a shiver to go down your spine, like it always does.
You end up lying back on the bed again with Ten’s body crowding yours in, legs tangling together and hips pressing against one another’s. Neither of you have made a move to take the other’s clothes off yet, but then he separates from your lips for a long moment and studies your features, from your eyebrows down to your mouth.
“Touch yourself for me.”
Your mouth drops open slightly.
“I want to see it.” He takes one of your hands and guides it up under your skirt and between your legs, pressing your fingers against your sex through your underwear, and you look at him with wide eyes, taking a deep breath. He lets go of your hand, and you keep yours right where it is. You’re slightly nervous about his black gaze trained on you, unrelenting and prying, but you begin to move your hand anyway.
Over your underwear, you press your finger between your lower lips, sliding between them and over your clit, and a little tremor goes through your body. You find yourself getting wet more quickly than you normally would with Ten watching you as you tease your entrance. You breathe a little heavier but make no sound yet. One of Ten’s hands reaches out for your ankle, though he doesn’t do anything other than keep his fingers there, a light touch that keeps passing back and forth over your ankle bone.
You circle your fingers across your clit more insistently, your legs tensing as the pleasure mounts higher. Ten’s lips part as he watches you, a heavy breath escaping from his chest. The hand on your ankle slides higher up your leg, just below your thigh, like he wants to slide his fingers into the mix and take over, but he doesn’t make a move to do so just yet.
Finally, Ten reaches under your skirt to pull your sticky panties off, sliding them slowly down your legs and leaving them somewhere on the floor. You want him to touch you again, the brush of his hands against your hips not enough, but he doesn’t grant your desire. “Keep going,” he says, leaning back on his hands, and you can see he’s growing hard.
You bring your hand back to its original place between your thighs, sliding through the wetness more easily and shuddering when your fingertips graze over your clit. You slide a finger into yourself then. A small moan slips out, and you close your eyes, but Ten’s fingers pinch your chin—not enough to hurt, but the sudden touch makes you look at him. “Keep your eyes open.” His thumb presses into your lower lip, and he stares at your mouth for a moment like he’s imagining sliding something hard and hot between your lips.
Ten kisses you on the lips again, and this time he trails the kisses down your body until he’s gripping your thighs on either side of his face. You pause in your movements when he reaches the junction of your thighs, and you watch as he grabs your hand and slips your finger out of yourself. He sucks the slick digit into his mouth, and you cannot tear your eyes away from him.
He lets your hand go and pulls you a few inches closer to his face, dragging you across the bed, and you can barely get your bearings back to sit up again when he slips his tongue through your lower lips. You moan, and he responds to that by repeating it again, catching your clit between the split in his tongue, and wiggling both sides.
“Oh Jesus...oh fuck.” Your hands go to Ten’s hair, pulling on it as you push your hips closer to his mouth, your back curving up. He is alluring tucked between your thighs like this, teasing and sucking your clit with his split tongue and prodding his fingers at your hole until he chooses to slide two of them inside.
His free hand keeps you close against his face as he eats you out, that wondrous tongue sliding against the most sensitive part of your body and making you gasp with boundless pleasure. Little droplets of moisture bead at the corners of your eyes from how good it feels, your stomach tensing and releasing as you try your best to keep still.
He has to keep his grip on your body tight when you come, as you try to squirm away from his tongue because of how stimulated you are. He only lets you go after he’s satisfied himself with licking up all the wet that’s spilled from you.
Then he strips your skirt off for you, because he knows you’re not quite in a state to do it for yourself right now. He peels the rest of your clothes off similarly, which doesn’t take much time or effort to do; you’ve dressed lightly for the weather.
Ten looks at you lying beneath him on the bed, his gaze stuck somewhere between awe and lust.
He slips out of his own clothes with a certain practiced ease. Yes, he’s really blue everywhere. He looks mostly human-like everywhere, too, except for the lack of a belly button.
Ten kisses you deeply as he slips into you, and you clutch at his sides. He tries to keep his pace slow at first, maybe for your sake or to just savor how it feels, but he gives into the feeling of you squeezing around him and starts thrusting into you faster. There is already sweat sliding down to his jaw, though you think it might be because of the heat, too.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” comes out of you in a voice you hardly recognize as your own.
His pelvis sliding against your clit from the proximity of your bodies makes you curl your fingers into the strands of his hair, wanting to touch every part of him you can. His lips go to the sweat-slicked skin of your shoulder, leaving little wet kisses behind as he wraps an arm around your waist and simply fucks into you, his shaft dragging against your walls.
He eventually separates himself from your neck, though it comes with some effort, to gaze at your face again. However, he finds that your eyes have drifted shut.
“Do you wanna come?” Ten asks, softly, gently, like you might break apart if he speaks too loud.
You’re a little winded from how he’s thrusting into you and can’t yet see the motive behind this question—because of course you do—but you answer with a shaky “I-I want to.”
“Then don’t look away from me.” His voice becomes harsher on these words.
“I…” Your lips move without any real words behind them as he thrusts into you harder, sinking all the way into you before pulling out to the tip. You want do what he’s just told you, but you find it difficult with the way he’s intent on burying himself into you, his eyes piercing into your own. “Mmm, I-I…”
You don’t know if you can, but the way he’s kindling your rising heat with each thrust makes you want to try very, very hard. Ten keep his hands on the sides of your face so you cannot look anywhere but at him.
The pleasure bears down on you more with each second, and you try to keep your breathing steady as another climax approaches.
“You’re almost there, come on baby,” he coaxes you, sloppily kissing the corner of your mouth before slipping his tongue in again. The way you gasp against his lips and tighten around him signals him to your orgasm, and he sits back to watch it play across your face, smirking at how you moan his name desperately.
Ten’s continued thrusts make you shiver from the flood of sensations overcoming your body, and you whimper at his movements until he pulls out and comes on your abdomen.
Ten gives you time to recover after you come down from your second orgasm, though he makes sure to lay a few more enamored kisses on your weakened body. He gets off the bed and exits the room after that. You don’t bother to ask where he’s going, because you know he’ll be back anyway.
When Ten comes back, he has his camera with him. The teasing tilt of his lips never leaves his face as he points it towards you. He takes a photo of you lying on his bed nude, with the breeze coming in and rustling the tree leaves and your hair, your skin shining bronze under the light of the eternal star. Then he comes closer, making the bed sink under his weight, and nudges your legs apart. He takes more photos of your lower stomach glistening with sweat and his cum—and photos of him sliding his slender fingers between your thighs and bringing you careening into another bout of euphoria.
The camera is soon forgotten after you come again. Ten climbs fully back onto the bed now and pulls you into his lap. His dick is hard again, and the length of it nudges against your lower lips, making you whimper from how sensitive you still are. He shushes you with a kiss and lifts your hips so he can slide into you, his shaft nudging that soft spot inside you and making you grip onto his arms.
You’re too mushy and dazed to do anything but let him push his hips up into you while you cling to him, your head lolling back. Ten’s mouth goes to the open expanse of your neck, and he wets your skin with his tongue.
The kaleidoscope of shapes above you on the ceiling morphs into one glistening reflection, throwing the blurred shapes of your bodies back to you. It’s like looking through a dense fog. You’re a little caught off guard by it, and you stare up at your nude forms. Ten looks up as well to see the cloudy figure of you cradled in his lap, and he only grins and thrusts up into you harder and smacks your ass in reply.
He grinds into you while he has you sitting full on his dick, and you think he must have set off your internal “reset” button somewhere between landing slaps on your ass and repeatedly hitting your g-spot. Your mind is blissfully, amazingly blank. The only clear thing you can distinguish is how he feels in and around you.
When you come this time, it comes with a gush of wetness that makes Ten whisper several smug praises into your ear for being such a good girl and making a mess on him.
As you quickly find out, Ten’s refractory period seems to be nonexistent, while his stamina is overflowing.
Ten knows how to mix the pain with pleasure in a way that enhances both feelings, and you don’t know if you’ve ever experienced anything more perfect. One moment, he’ll say something romantic and fairytale-like to you before shoving your head into the pillow and taking you from behind in the next moment, pulling one of your arms behind you for leverage as he thrusts into you hard. You want him to do whatever he desires to you, and so you let him hammer into you until you think your hips and ass will be bruised by the next morning.
You’ve never knew that sex could be so carnal and so loving at the same time, but this is all of those things, and it makes you feel so full that you could split at the seams. You scream, cry, and moan more times than you can count, so enveloped by pleasure that it seems like the atoms of your body will simply dissolve from the intensity.
When you both finally become too exhausted to continue, it’s still daytime. Of course. But Ten draws the blackout shade forward and seals all the light out, and so you know it must be time to sleep. Time blends together here. Even if it’s not yet the midnight hour, it will be as long as you deem it so.
“Come here,” he says, and rolls you over on the bed so you don’t have to sleep in the wet spot. You grin in sleepy amusement against his neck as he hugs you to his body. “Let’s stay right here.”
You know he’s talking about sleeping for the next few hours, but you can also imagine he’s referring to your new life—one you’ll create together.
#ten scenarios#ten imagines#ten smut#ten fic#wayv imagines#wayv smut#wayv fic#wayv scenarios#nct imagines#nct scenarios#nct smut#nct fic#ambw scenarios#kpop ambw#ambw fic#ambw imagines#ambw smut#nct ambw#nct fluff#wayv fluff#nct angst#wayv angst#ambw fluff#ambw angst#ambw
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I just really love the conversation between Vane and Pastor Lambrick in 3.09:
Pastor Lambrick: I assume you understand what is to happen, as soon as everything begins. It'll be loud, confusing. Men who've never experienced fear are said to know it for the first time. But in this moment, there is quiet. An opportunity to find some measure of peace. I would like to help you do that.
Vane: You've done this before?
Lambrick: I have. Regretfully, I have.
Vane: Get many takers, do you? For the kind of peace you're offering?
Lambrick: It is a different experience to what you may imagine it being. Surely a man like you has faced death before, but never so nakedly. And cloaked in glory or sacrifice, fully exposed in all its horror and finality. In this moment, you have the opportunity to enter into that moment with a clear conscience. I can help you do that. To repent.
Vane: I have nothing to repent for with you.
Lambrick: Don't you? I understand the code you subscribe to. I understand you believe your violence is justified in the name of a defiance of tyranny, but there are mothers who buried their sons because of you. Wives widowed because of you. Children awoken in their sleep to be told their father was never coming home because of you. What kind of a man can experience no remorse from this?
Vane: Whatever remorse I have or do not have is my own. That I choose not to share it with you says more about you than it does about me.
Lambrick: Me? I am a shepherd sent to help you find a path to God's forgiveness.
Vane: A shepherd? You are the sheep. And whatever I have to say to God, I'll tell him myself or not at all.
It’s such a brilliant encapsulation of Vane’s political ideology and the purpose he serves in the show, which is namely a critique of the social contract theories of Hobbes and Locke. This theory posits that in order to escape the state of nature in which everyone in equal in their power to kill everyone else, people agree to give up some of their freedoms in order to receive protection in the form of a political community.
On his surface, Vane seems to represent in particular the Hobbesian conception of life in the state of nature: “solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.” Indeed, that’s the assumption Lambrick makes about him in bringing up the violence he has cause women and children. His offer to Vane acts as an admission of the superiority of civilization over the state of nature in which the pirates live.
Vane’s rejection of this offer to repent, then, serves as an acknowledgement of the false foundation of political power and a rejection again of the organized power structures of civilization. He recognizes the emptiness of whatever supposed salvation a man like Lambrick could offer. His rejection of Lambrick further cements the impossibility of wholly subduing a place like Nassau. They might be able to kill somebody like Vane, but they’ll never be able to assimilate him.
#I think this scene also acts as a nice parallel with the scene between Flint and Peter Ashe in which Flint calls him a coward#It really tickles me how Vane is constantly surrounded by people who LOVE to monologue and he says maybe 20 words per conversation with them#black sails#Charles Vane
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I have no idea when you posted asking about the experiences of Greek diaspora / Greek heritage but I just saw it so I thought I’d send in my stuff.
I am so disconnected from it because my grandma didn’t want to pass the language into her children so she could have adult conversations they wouldn’t understand. And she didn’t pass on the culture because her husband was Jehovah’s Witness. And so I just feel an intense feeling of grief over a culture that I’m apart of but know very little about. I have some recipes my Yiayia made, a cookbook by women from the Greek Orthodox Church in NYC, and two lullaby’s. (We lived in the US with my great grandma so we had more interaction with Greek culture than our cousins who’s lived with my grandma in Ireland)
And there’s not much out that I’ve found where I’ve been able to learn about my culture and not felt like I’m intruding. Especially because I don’t “look Greek” like some of the other greek kids at my school. I look Irish. I don’t have a Greek name and I don’t speak any of the language. The only way I’ve found to connect is through food but I’m limited to the cookbook because if you look online it’s hard to find recipes that aren’t just trendy mediterranen inspired health food. My mum is starting to reluctantly tell me a little about my family from Greece. And my grandmas cousin and her family is very very greek. So if I fly down to see her she’ll teach me stuff (though she’s the matriarch of the family so she’s pretty intimidating). Anyway. That’s my experience with my my greek heritage.
I just sent the long-ass ask about Greek heritage but I forgot the bit where I was Greek enough to get bullied over Greek food. Yay. Dolmades are good though I don’t care if they “look little poop”
___________________[END OF ASK] __________________________
Hey and sorry for the delay 💙 I asked some time ago but that doesn't mean newer answers aren't welcome anytime!
Dear, I am grieving with you for the loss 😔 I can't say the reasons the language wasn't passed on seem very logical to me. There are things that didn't get passed on to me because my grandparents thought I would automatically know, or they didn't bother teaching, so I can relate to that feeling 😔
You are definitely NOT intruding! I can understand why it feels this way after what you told me, but it seems to me you have every right to know! Greek culture welcomes anyone from Cameroon to Japan, so, realistically, nothing should stop you from having access to it. Plus, it's your own family!
Oh damn, the "I don't look Greek" plague 😩 As everyone knows there's no specific qualifier of appearance for being part of Hellenismos. On this particular occasion, I'll go one step further and say that, unless you have raid hair, you probably look like a lot of Greeks.
There are Greeks whose appearance is rare for this ethnicity, but "looking Irish" is a thing that 1/4 (at least?) of Greek people relate to. One thing Greeks of diaspora often hear is that "they don't look Greek enough", aka they look "too white". Your surrounding Greeks might not look like you but if you go through my tag #Greek people, which has hundreds of videos, portraits, and photos of Greeks from all eras, you might realize you look like many Greeks.
There are Greeks whose appearance is rare for this ethnicity, but "looking Irish" is a thing that 1/4 (at least?) of Greek people relate to. One thing Greeks of diaspora often hear is that "they don't look Greek enough", aka they look "too white". Your surrounding Greeks might not look like you but if you go through my tag #Greek people, which has hundreds of videos, portraits, and photos of Greeks from all eras, you might realize you look like many Greeks.
Again, appearance doesn't matter in the slightest when it comes to culture, but I sensed your appearance issue was the flavor of "too white looking" and it's the most infuriating thing to me because many, many Greeks look "too white looking" for the standards foreigners have made for them!
Anyways, on to the food! I am so happy you are trying some of the recipes :D (And that you are doing everything to connect to your heritage if it brings you joy!) How dare they speak badly about dolmades??? 😭 Many countries close to Greece also have that dish and we must find them so we can have a dolmades alliaaaaanceee!
I'd also like to add, don't feel pressured to get too much into the culture if you don't want to. Many Greeks in Greece keep different types of distance from their tradition and that should also be your right. Again, do and learn whatever pleases you! Just keep in mind that you are valid in your current state without going the extra mile to learn every Greek thing possible.
People across the globe can have various degrees of Greek heritage and if that "amount" of heritage is "less" then it's okay and natural because it's what happens when people immigrate. The more generations pass, the more this old part is left behind. For example, many Greeks in Greece can also come from other backgrounds (Austrian, Egyptian, Slavic (various countries), etc) and they, too have many parts of their older heritages lost. They practice Greek customs almost exclusively now.
There's a cultural plane that shifts all the time in countries around the world and families assimilate to a new culture as they adapt to a new place. At this moment you are also part of a US regional culture and there is no shame in *also* identifying as part of it. That won't erase any Greek part of you.
The above doesn't aim to discourage you in any way on searching more about Greek culture! It's only a general disclaimer. People from inside a culture (usually in diaspora) tend to judge those who participate less, as if any person with X heritage is in a place to keep the same amount of touch with it 🙄
Sure, tradition is very important but nobody should be forced to practice it if they don't want to - or if they just can't. Tradition is people, and some traditions change or die naturally because many individuals from the inside wanted it to.
It's hard being caught in between - not "American enough" and not "Greek enough". The paradox is that you must first feel secure in this position. Granted, it's easier said than done but mentally it will save you the mindset of needing to be "more American" or "more Greek". As you understand, you don't need to feel apologetic to Americans for who you are, and you don't need to feel apologetic to Greeks in America or anywhere else for the exact same reason.
Some Greeks of diaspora feel distressed about their accents in Greek (or they don't want to admit they have an accent) or for not being perceived as Greeks automatically by other Greeks when they visit the country. But that's unavoidable because these differences exist and people raised in Greece can spot them. Therefore, people in the US whom you are afraid might feel superior to you for knowing more things about Greece, may come to Greece and feel like foreigners.
So they shouldn't make this a race beacuse it's not one they would normally "win" by their own standards. Chances are, after you learn anything you can, you will also have distance from what is considered the "default" Greek culture. It's part of the organic process of time + distance from the country, and Greeks with half a brain won't look down on you for that.
What I mean to say is that there is no certain bar an ordinary person can ever pass to be given any prize of the "ultimate Έλληνας". Not even Greeks in Greece know where that bar is when it comes to their own touch with tradition. There is no golden standard, no finishing line!
I encourage you to continue your journey on learning Greek things and while you are at it, know that objectively you have nothing to prove to anyone, even though you might feel otherwise. I say, fly to your grandma's cousin and let her teach you stuff!
You know that the intimidating demeanor Greek aunties and grandmas have doesn't necessarily reflect their love for you. You might also know that older Greeks are more reserved in showing appreciation. And in the hypothetical scenario where they don't really like you that much, they are still bound to you because you are family, so feel free to use their expertise 👀 If they don't give their knowledge to their family, whom are they going to give it to?? The neighbor??
If they throw any shade at you for now knowing enough take a deeeeeep breath, remember this isn't a race, and continue learning from them. (And you will feel the Greek experience of not deemed worthy enough by your relatives 😂 It's a win win!) If you haven't, check the poem Ithaca by K.P. Kavafy! I think it applies to this situation in a way!
You can always come here and browse thousands of posts about Greece! (In the Desktop version the most important show up on the left of the main page). I have #modern Greece #Greek custom #Greek tradition #Greek dance #Greek cuisine #Greek literature and whatever else your heart desires!
If you want to slowly learn Greek, Greekpod 101 and Easy Greek channels on YouTube have great content! I also have my tag #learn Greek on this blog with sources and explanations. (#Greek language and #Greek word can also be useful!) They are all accessible to English speakers!
You now have a distant Greek auntie who is at your disposal for any type of question (even the "stupid" questions)! Literally, ask me anything and I will try to answer it or find more info for you! You can DM me if you don't want to leave an ask. You are not intruding and it's my pleasure to help!
#thank you for your message <3#it's hard for me to give tone in text - i hope i wasnt too intimidating either :p#the blog is here for your questions about greece so dont hesitate to ask!#answered#greek diaspora#greeks in the us#greek speaks
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cultural alienation
I think I’ve slowly come to realise over the last year that I now see my Asian heritage very different to how I saw it when I was in grade school (ages 8-18). And I’m also learning that what I was putting myself through was cultural alienation and resenting the fact that I was half Asian, half Vietnamese, yet not Asian American… This is by no means a sob story or a way to get attention but rather me just sharing my experience so that maybe others, if anyone else, can relate and feel some sort of comfort knowing that they aren’t alone as I felt growing up in a place where Asians were the minority to African American and Latinx communities.
To start off, I am aware that I am very white passing, but I have enough of an Asian appearance that people often never quite figure out wtf I am. I didn’t meet another mixed Asian-European until my first year of university. So you can imagine how ‘rare’ we were in my surrounding. During my school years, I had almost zero Asian friends and the ones that were, were very much americanised and not of South East/East Asian decent.
So I forced myself to adapt. I began to resent my Vietnamese name, my legal middle name that showed up on all records, refusing to ever tell anyone what it was because ‘that’s embarrassing.’ One time a teacher called me by it and was humiliating.
(I think my name was also a special kind of horror because of its dual meaning in the different Asian languages. Its virtually unknown in Vietnamese, probably bc ive never met anyone outside family speak Viet. However, its a very popular Korean dish, also known to non-Asians, and all the Asians surrounding me growing up were, you guessed it, Korean. To most people I was literally a food dish; it was a nightmare. It actually still kinda is, but now im proud of it bc it shows who I am and where I come from without even really knowing me. ‘No no I’m not Korean, I’m Vietnamese’)
So basically, I told people I was Asian but that was it. Now I realise that my americanised Asian friends were probably just doing the same thing. Assimilating to the culture that engulfed us, taking away our individuality because Asian culture was ‘weird’ and ‘too different.’ The way I lived at home with my family was a secret. No one could know about the little things that made us different. No shoes in the house, just eating with chopsticks, rice at every meal (granted there was a mix of food, both very French dishes and very Vietnamese ones, but that was already too different.) I was different enough as it was by being French, and not at all fitting in the American norms. Speaking French at home was already a shock to everyone (though in my head at the time it was, thank god it’s not Viet) My Franco-German last name, one letter off from an English swear word was enough. So I continued to reject anything related to my heritage. My mom and grandma suggested I wear the traditional Vietnamese ao dai for prom. You can imagine how quickly I shut down that idea. I can’t imagine how hurtful that was for them, to have family rejecting our shared culture. Looking back I wish I’d done it. It’s a beautiful dress that really highlights Vietnamese beauty. Actually, my mom ended up making my dress and the fabric and cut is kind of like a more western version of the traditional look, so maybe deep down I hadn’t completely rejected it but was still trying to fit in nonetheless, especially for such a significant part of American high school. By that point in high school I think I was slowly more accepting of being Asian but it wasn’t something I was ready to scream from the rooftops. To this day, I have never felt American, because I have such a strong connection with my homeland and nothing will ever take that away not matter how long I’m away from it. Instead, I accepted the place where I have lived most my life and how grateful I am to have this privilege.
University was the first time I was surrounded by other mixed and South East/East Asian diaspora. True, I was in a place were Asians were no longer the minority but I was interacting with them now. My housemates were Asian; we celebrated the Lunar New Year, had hot pot parties with games of mahjong, we all cooked Asian dishes together (dumpling night was always fun). It was the first time I could really relate to the lifestyle that my mother and grandparents had. That being said, I found that I connected more with the Asians international student rather than Asian Americans. I found that somehow, they were more like me, and that part I don’t quite understand yet, but this is a start in self identity. This was step one.
And then there were the things that you could watch from Asia itself, which I realise now that I had whole heartedly rejected because I never wanted to associate myself with ‘that.’ Things like anime I rejected because ‘eww they’re speaking a different language and its showing a different lifestyle to the one I was expected to live while being in the US; the animation looks weird, it’s not western.’ It was my reintroduction to Asian culture and how diverse it is, but also at the same time how similar each country can be to each other.
Dramas and series were another way to visualise it all. It was like ‘hey they’re like me, they do that like we do.’
And then there was kpop and music. This is probably the most recent one and the one that made me realised the internalised block I had put up because of my need to fit in when I was younger. My first years of high school I distinctly remember hearing about Kpop and BTS for the first time. Except it wasn’t a good reaction. It was one that judged people who did enjoy that genre of music. When Gangnam Style came out, everyone mocked it, made fun of the way they talked or dance. So I shutdown the possibility of ever liking a Kpop group. Every time anyone ever mentioned BTS the response was simple, ‘oh I don’t like that’ but until recently, I never knew why. I had never understood that it was an internalise block I had put up myself, because of the judgment of others and the shame of being where I was from, where my parents were from. I had heard their music, I knew I liked it, but liking something like that was just embarrassing and perfect for teasing. I was ashamed of ever liking something that wasn’t from the English-speaking part of the world. I disliked these people because I was scared that someone would find out and make fun of me for it and never thought for a second of giving them a chance. ((And for that, BTS, I am very very sorry. They deserve absolutely no hate. It’s their work to share asian culture and experience with the rest of the world that has greatly influenced this whole realisation actually. Better late than never, right? We’re making up for lost time now))
So to sum up, in my true artistic nature, it was different medias that made me realise my cultural alimentation and internalised phobia of my heritage just because we were from a different part of the world that was too dissimilar in so many aspects. Looking retrospectively at my art practice throughout university, I can finally see the pattern. A lot of my work revolved around culture, I now understand why. (That can be a post for another day) now I feel like I’ve reconnected with the pride that comes from being Asian and living it to the fullest. I’ve connected with my mum in a totally different way and we love talking about our culture and that of the rest of the Asian counties with interesting things we’ve learned. All the varying Asian cultures, especially through food. Cooking has been a love of mine for a long time and now we’re trying out all sorts of dishes from all over, it’s been a great experience, especially to share with my younger brother so he never feels like I did. If there’s one thing I can protect him from, cultural alienation is it. You lose yourself with it, left alone to grasp at false realities and not being yourself which is detrimental to your mental health. It’s that exact experience I would not want to recreate.
And all these realisations come from shower thoughts (I’m not even kidding lmao) so I’ll end this on a positive, light note.
Today, I cannot be more proud to be mixed Asian and European. I’m accepting and I couldn’t be happier tbh. I know that I’m not the only one to go through an identity crisis. It makes us human to be different, to have lived different experiences; it’s what makes us all special and valid to be ourselves, and that’s so fucking important. So love yourself, love each other
- 金枝
#the essay is here.....#its literally just my experience and the things that ive learned along the way#i know its really long so please dont feel obligated to read it#its just felt good to organise out like this#and tas really wanted it so here we go...#urusai sarah#this could be a memoir lmao#s: rambles
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mako x airbender reader PLS i live for ☀️🌈🌱girls with 🔪🔥🖤boys
i'm not gonna lie, i wasn't a big fan of mako at first, but i kinda really like him now and i think writing for him is super interesting so thanks for requesting!! i hope you like it!!
•••
Misunderstanding (Mako x Airbender!Reader)
Warnings: none
Genre: Fluff
Fandom: The Legend of Korra
Summary: Mako and reader like each other but they don't know about it.
Word Count: 1641
Reader is gender neutral!
You were one of the new airbenders. It came out of nowhere, and at first, you thought that there was something wrong with you, but as soon as the Avatar and her friends came to your city looking for more airbenders, you knew it was your chance to finally leave; and you were hopeful that this would be your opportunity to make a fresh start.
You hadn't spent a lot of time with your recruiters, but you still had a good time. You didn't want to admit it, but you felt a little attracted to Mako, and also very intrigued. He didn't seem to be a bad guy, but he was always very distant. And even though you liked him, you did realize that you two were very different.
You were always really optimistic and positive, and that's why at first Mako couldn't really stand you. But even though he wouldn't admit it, you actually grew up on him a lot more. He couldn't understand how you were always so bright, but he found that very cute too. He was also very surprised when he saw you use the little bit you knew about your bending in order to save Kai. He was perplexed with your determination and that was the moment he realized that maybe he really liked you. However, you didn't see each other for a while, not until you and the other airbenders were freed from the Red Lotus.
After locking Zaheer up again, you all needed some time to assimilate everything. Once Jinora's ceremony had passed, you still kept learning about your newfound bending and the culture. A lot of the time, Bolin went to see Opal, and he obviously dragged Mako along. You thought it was cute that he agreed to go with him every single time even if he complained a little about it, and it wasn't long for you to start developing feelings.
It was a bit weird, you didn't really talk a lot since most of the time he avoided you, but you couldn't change the way you felt towards him. It did make you a little sad, though. Back when you'd first join them, you actually got along pretty well, but now it was like something had changed, and you didn't know what it was.
But he did. What happened was that he had a huge crush on you, and he wasn't the best when it came to his emotions, so avoiding you was the best option for him to get over you. But actually, things turned out completely opposite, the more he tried to get you out of his mind, the more he thought of you. He wanted to hit his head against the wall. Even though he acted very confident all the time, he didn't think he'd have a chance with you, and that made him feel a bit insecure.
Eventually, you got tired of it, and you decided to ask Bolin. You thought that he would tell you if you insisted long enough, so it was worth a try. Once again they both were at the Air Temple, and before he went to see Opal, you grabbed him by the arm and got into a room with him to talk in private.
"Whoa, (Y/N), what's going on?" He asked, completely surprised at you. "I kinda want to go see Opal," he said.
"I know, I just want to ask you something," you told him. He relaxed his shoulders a bit and waited for you to start talking. "What's going on with your brother?"
"What do you mean what's wrong? Nothing's wrong! Why would there be something wrong?" He talked very fast and sounded extremely suspicious. He definitely knew something.
"Come on, Bolin, please. He's been completely avoiding me, he won't even say hello to me! I just want to know!"
He relaxed his eyebrows and gave you a sympathetic look. "Look, I know there's something but I don't know what it is, okay?" He told you, trying to calm you down. "Maybe you should just talk to him, (Y/N)." He smiled at you and grabbed your shoulder in a reassuring way, and then walked away from you.
You took a deep breath and then sighed. You knew Bolin was right, and you wondered how you'd do that if Mako constantly ran away from you, but if you wanted some answers, you'd have to at least try to get close to him.
You didn't talk to him that day, but you decided you would once they came back the following week. You spent most days rehearsing what you would say and thought about all the possible outcomes, but you were still a bit nervous for some reason. When the day came, you didn't waste a single second, as soon as he got there you asked him if you could talk to him. He tried to come up with an excuse, but before he could, you looked at him, letting him know that there was no way for him to escape this time.
"So…, shouldn’t you be learning some spiritual stuff?" He asked. Deep down, he was really nervous. What if you thought he hated you? He thought that you probably did since he’d been a complete jerk with you.
"What’s going on with you?" You asked once you two were alone. "No, wait, what did I do?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, I must’ve done something for you to completely ignore me all the time, Mako." There was a bit of anger in your voice, but also sadness. He stayed in silence, and you just let out a sigh. "So you’re not gonna talk? Am I supposed to guess what the hell is wrong with you?" You made a pause to look at him, but his eyes were fixed on the ground. You ran your hands through your hair and crossed your arms over your chest. "I even tried to talk to Bolin but he doesn’t know what’s going on either. I thought that after our little time together once you all found me we would at least be friends, but I guess I was wrong because you obviously hate me!" You didn’t really care if someone heard you, not anymore. You wanted answers, and it seemed like you weren’t going to get any, so you uncrossed your arms and stood there for a moment before starting to walk away from him.
"I don’t hate you," he mumbled, but you managed to hear him.
"Oh, so you can talk," you said in response. You turned around and stood in front of him once more, waiting for him to keep talking. "You can’t just say that and just go back to being silent, Mako."
He made eye contact with you, and he could see that underneath all that anger, there was hurt. He took a deep breath before speaking again. "I’m sorry for avoiding you, it wasn’t my intention," he said. "Well, it actually was my intention, but I didn’t mean to hurt you."
"Why were you avoiding me? What did I do?" You were much calmer now and it was evident in your voice. "Tell me so I can do something about it because I really want to be your friend." You actually wanted to be more than his friend, but you knew it would be useless to admit it since you were convinced he didn’t feel the same way.
"That’s the thing, (Y/N). I don’t want to be your friend," he said. You looked at him with surprise in your eyes. You didn’t expect him to be so abrupt, and you two were silent for a few moments.
"I guess I’ll just leave then," you mumbled.
Mako realized what his words probably sounded like and he quickly grabbed your hand, stopping you from walking away once again. "No, wait, I didn’t mean for it to sound like that," he said. You let him pull you closer to him, waiting for him to explain himself. "I, uh, this isn’t easy to say but… What I meant to say is that I get really nervous whenever I’m around you, so that’s why I started avoiding you."
"I don’t understand, Mako."
He took a deep breath and turned his gaze away from you. "What I’m trying to say is that I actually really like you," he finally confessed. "And I get nervous around you not only because of that but also because I know I don’t have any chances of being with you." You looked at him as he slightly blushed. He still kept his eyes away from you and let out a sigh. "I’m sorry if I made you feel bad, it wasn’t my intention."
There was an awkward silence between the two of you. Mako wanted to disappear from there more than anything else in the world. "I like you too," you whispered after a while.
"What?" He asked since he didn't get to hear you.
"I like you too, Mako," you said, now louder. "I kinda have ever since I first saw you," you admitted.
"(Y/N), I'm not in the mood for jokes right now."
"I'm being serious! I like you, Mako." As soon as you said that, he turned his gaze back to you and he had a huge smile on his face.
"I think this is the best day ever," he said. "I, uh, is it too soon to ask if I can kiss you?"
"Not if I want you to do it," you replied. He gently cupped your face and pulled you closer to him, finally pressing his lips against yours. You wrapped your arms around his waist, and when you two pulled away, you pressed your foreheads together. "So… does this mean that we're dating?" You asked.
"It definitely does."
#mako x reader#mako imagine#mako fanfic#mako fic#tlok x reader#tlok imagine#tlok fanfic#tlok fic#lok x reader#lok imagine#lok fanfic#lok fic#tlok mako#the legend of korra#the legend of korra fic#fluff#gender neutral reader
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(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Main Story
Chapter 3-3: 海水与火焰 Seawater & Flames Translation
“Secretly snapping shots of me again? What, was last time not enough?"
*Light and Night Master-list
*Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut
*Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪
*Main story tag will be #For Light and Night
The original plan for Lin Yao’s fitting session was postponed by her agency at the very last minute. After busying for a couple more days, the weekends were here in a blink of an eye.
Following Evan’s suggestion, I’d selected a new apartment that was small, but pretty good in every other aspect, and moved in without a hitch.
It was coincidentally sundown by the time I’d finished decorating my new home. The setting sun was lazily snuggled up high amongst the clouds that touched the building. Guangqi City was dyed in a beautiful pinkish-purple, assimilating into the very glow of the sunset itself.
I was nestled up comfortably on my sofa, admiring the beautiful scenery and enjoying the rare moment of peace.
Ding-dong!
The doorbell rang.
Delivery Man: Hello. Fresh flowers for you.
MC: ?
An’an had sent me a huge bouquet of baby's breath. It had a card attached to it, wishing me a smooth move into my new apartment.
❖☆———————————★❖
An'an: Got the flowers yet?
MC: Yeah! They're especially pretty~
An'an: You're welcome! But, seeing as you've already received them… I have a teeny-tiny request~
MC: Why do I have a bad feeling about this already…?
An'an: Aw, come on, man. Didn't I tell you that I was going to be interviewing my idol's race team next week?
An'an: It’s their test run tomorrow and it’s also a Sunday, so I’m asking you to come and check them out with me!
An'an: Please? Pretty please? Pretty please with a cherry on top? You know I love you best, baby!
MC: ...Fine.
An'an: I’ll send you the location later and see you at their training location at 10 AM tomorrow! Be there, or be square!
❖☆———————————★❖
Hence, I woke up early the next day due to the location being somewhere out in the outskirts of the city.
MC: Turn left at 998 Sunset Street and go straight till the end…
MC: Then you’ll see the Glitter Bullet race team's name… Oh, here it is.
A real race track was much more of a spectacular sight to behold compared to what I’d seen on television.
The long and winding race track was akin to that of a python’s body; so long that it seemed never-ending, surrounding a square plot of grass.
The dark red tented fabric canopy bearing the team’s name stood right in the centre of the racetrack like an open umbrella.
❖☆———————————★❖
MC: What a spectacle…
Everything about the racetrack marvelled me, almost as if I’d accidentally stepped into a whole new world.
Training racecars raced past me, roaring as they went. The visceral heat and the deafening roars of the engines as they zipped past were so exciting that they made everyone's heart race.
I walked to the auditorium, finding a shaded area to sit.
Down at the tracks was what was probably a mock competition. The roaring of the racecars that zipped past was sometimes high-pitched, and sometimes low.
❖☆———————————★❖
The one at the head of them all was a red racecar that was both steady and equally speedy. After a couple of laps, it had firmly locked its place as No.1 on the racetrack.
I stared at the skull pattern on it. It looked really familiar…
I whipped out my phone and zoomed in on it using the camera and confirmed it. My eyes weren’t fooling me after all.
MC: The pattern on it looks exactly just like the pendant Osborn wears!
❖☆———————————★❖
Is that his racecar?
As the thought flashed past my mind, I was compelled to raise my phone and press the button on the shutter.
Suddenly, a sharp sound rang out in the chaos of noise.
The yellow racecar that had been snapping at the red one’s heels the entire time had suddenly started accelerating, just like a lion that had just woken up, radiating an unstoppable and unrelenting aura as it went.
It swerved with astonishing speed and a sharp screech of its tires, perfectly bypassing the bend in the road before swiftly overtaking the red racecar!
It was like a dash of gold light in the middle of a group, making everything in the surroundings lose out in comparison.
In a blink of an eye, that racecar put a huge distance between itself and the others.
MC: The red racecar got overtaken!
Only the last lap remained before this competition was over. I couldn't help gripping tightly to the railings as I silently rooted for the red racecar.
However, it was the yellow racecar that had been first to cross the finish line in the end.
MC: He still lost out…
I sighed, growing increasingly curious about just which godly being was behind the wheel of the yellow racecar.
MC: ...Osborn's so good at this; I wonder who won against him?
A tall and big figure came out of the yellow racecar, removing his helmet and reaching a hand up to somewhat fix his helmet-mussed hair.
MC: ...Osborn!? That red racecar isn't being driven by him!?
❖☆———————————★❖
It was at that moment that my phone vibrated to life.
An'an: I needa tell you something very important… Please don't smack me!
An'an: A last-minute issue cropped up with the latest issue of the magazine I'm on, so I've got to rush back to the publishing company right now...
MC: I'm… already here, though…
An'an: I'm so, so, sorry for making you go there for nothing…
MC: Don't worry about it. I don't have any plans for today anyway. Besides, I just saw their test run.
An'an: For real!? Did you snap any pics of my idol? Can you send them to me!?
MC: Sure thing. I snapped one aplenty…
Suddenly, I recalled the big, horrid, and terrible screw-up that had transpired earlier. My voice had never died that quickly right then and there. Not only did I fail to get a single shot of her idol, but I'd also taken pictures of EVERYTHING but him.
MC: ...Err, I'll snap a couple more and send them all to you later.
An'an: You're really the bestest bestie! Gotta go, the editor-in-chief's after my arse. Bye bye~
After hanging up, I immediately fell into a moment of depression as I stared at the stream of pictures of the red racecar in the gallery. Is there a second mock competition, by any chance? Otherwise, how am I going to explain this to her…?
??: And whose fangirl is this? What are you squatting here for?
MC: !
The sudden voice that came out of nowhere startled me. I shot up immediately only to meet a pair of eyes that had been half-narrowed into a smile.
I didn't know when he came here, but Osborn was now standing by my side. There he stood under the dazzling sunlight with both hands in his pockets, leaning lazily against the railings with his eyebrows raised.
I felt a little light-headed. Perhaps it was because I had my head down for too long and had gotten up way too quickly, but I abruptly stumbled two steps backwards.
He grabbed onto my arm with a small chuckle.
MC: ...Thanks.
Osborn: Secretly snapping shots of me again? What, was last time not enough?
He leaned down, his gaze landing on the camera interface that was still open on my phone, the smile playing at his lips never once falling.
MC: As if! I’m helping my friend take some pictures. She needs to use it for her interviews!
Osborn: Oh? So what did you take?
MC: Uh, well…
MC: I just casually snapped a couple of pictures of things like your racecar and… the red one… and all…
Osborn: Really? Then what do you think of my driving?
MC: Amazing! Never thought that you'd clinch first in the end like that!
MC: You drove fast and furious during the last lap, but you were also very steady at the wheel! And the part where you finally overtook your opponent at the very last moment was also way too brilliant!
Osborn: Then why'd you only take photos of one who came in 2nd?
I froze. That was when it finally hit me that he'd already seen the camera interface that had been on my phone display earlier.
Osborn causally folded his arms, awaiting my answer with a playful look on his face.
I could only look to the side ever so awkwardly, softly muttering in response.
MC: Because they were leading at the start, so I thought…
MC: Plus, the skull pattern that was on it was just like your pendant, so that's why I...
Osborn was stunned for a while before he let out a laugh.
Osborn: That was the pattern for the last season.
Osborn: I never knew that you'd done your research on me that well.
There was an obvious teasing lilt to his voice. I flushed red, immediately snapping in denial.
MC: I only take extra notice when it comes to patterns! I blame my work habits!
MC: Who told you to be so slow at the start…
Utterly amused, Osborn narrowed his eyes into a smile, leaning down towards me.
Osborn: Do you know that you should never say "slow" to a racer?
MC: ……
I subconsciously shook my head. Osborn nodded moments after he'd leaned in closer.
Osborn: Boy, you sure are easy to intimidate.
Moments after he backed away, he casually placed his hands into his pockets, his smile growing bigger.
Osborn: Come on.
MC:
...Where to?
Osborn: Don't you wanna snap some shots? I'll lead the way.
❖☆————— ⊹ For Light & Night⊹ —————★❖
Previous Part: (Chapter 3-1) | Next Part: (Chapter 3-5)
#光与夜之恋#Light and Night#Otome#Translations#Tencent#萧逸#Osborn#齐司礼#Sariel#陆沉#Evan#查理苏#Charlie#夏鸣星#Jesse#For Light and Night
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Lonely Hearts Club
Seokmin: Chapter 3 (I Wanna Know)
Characters: Seokmin x female reader
Genre/Warnings: multi-member au (different scenarios), werewolf au, fantasy, angst, fluff, genocide mentions, runaways, mental illness (depression implied), sexual mentions, crying, mentions of death, mentions of violence. Any others will be put as warnings when future chapters are thought up/written.
Author’s Note: Your girl is in some serious fucking pain but she managed to get another chapter out because she couldn’t sleep! So low and behold, I give you a decent chapter for DK
Please remember that all of these chapters and the content within them are a work of fiction! They’re just for fun/entertainment!
Bold= Dialogue Italics= Thoughts
🥀 & ☁️
Lonely Hearts Club Master List
Chapter 3: I Wanna Know
You were in heat for a few more days. Seokmin stayed with you the whole time and took care of… your every need. Though he looked worn out, he didn’t complain once. He liked that you let him help you. And he was hoping now that your heat was over, you’d let him in a bit more.
Your legs felt like jello, your hair looked like a birds nest, your skin was covered in variously healed bruises. You were a mess. But it was still time to go back to the pack. You made a promise and you always followed through with your promises, even if you were in a horny induced daze when you made it. You were just hoping they wouldn’t know, or at least, wouldn’t make a big deal out of what had happened.
Seokmin helped get you back to your feet and get dressed, putting your arms through your tank top and putting you in your shorts one leg at a time. He had already managed to get himself together as he had woken up earlier than you had. He figured you’d be in worse shape than him after everything… everything you’d been through and he wanted to be sure you were as okay as possible before you started your journey back home.
“There we go, all done!” He chirped after finally buttoning the last button on your jean shorts.
He took a step back to look at you. Aside from the bruises, you physically looked pretty normal now that he had helped you tame your ridiculously tangled hair. But he knew the pack was gonna smell you. You smelled like him from the week of animalistic sex sessions you two had been having due to your heat. It was unavoidable. He knew they’d all know you two slept together the second you walked through the door. He just wasn’t sure how you’d react to their inevitable and unavoidable teasing.
You quickly looked down after you had seen your reflection in one of your buckets of water, “I look like a walking disaster.” You muttered.
“It’s not THAT bad…,” He failed miserably at reassuring you, “But it doesn’t matter anyways, we’re mates. It doesn’t matter if we slept together or not. We would have eventually anyways” Seokmin tried to reason, bringing himself to walk up to you and hold your small hands in his large ones hesitantly.
“They’re all gonna make fun of me.” You pouted at him, looking down at your feet and smiling a bit in embarrassment.
You had never really taken the time to look at him before your whole mating fiasco happened. You had done literally everything in your power to avoid him at all costs so you wouldn’t catch feelings for him. But now that you had spent a good portion of time alone with him, you realized just how much bigger than you Seokmin was. He always seemed so… subservient around the pack that you never really gave his physical appearance much thought when it came to size. He must’ve been almost a foot taller than you, and now that you had seen him shirtless and naked, you also knew just how much muscle he actually had. He was MUCH larger than you had thought. Even his feet looked like they could crush yours with one fast stomp.
He held back a giggle at your cuteness before he spoke up, “They won’t make fun of yoooou. Especially because you could EASILY beat most of them to a bloody pulp with your special wolfie powers and all.”
“Aya! They’re not special ‘wolfie powers.’ They’re just my normal powers. And it’s not my fault you guys are more diluted forms than me.” You chuckled, playfully smacking his toned chest with your hand.
He cocked his head to the side at your statement, “Is that how it works? The longer the line the less of a wolf you are?” He asked curiously while bringing the back of your hand up to his lips and giving it a chaste kiss.
You almost laughed out loud at his question before you remembered that he didn’t grow up with other werewolves. He was a bitten wolf, not genetically a wolf. You remembered that Seungcheol had told you that no one in his family had ever been a wolf before him. He probably had no clue how it all worked, especially since his pack wasn’t always the best help when it came to educating each other on important matters. You felt a little guilty for thinking he was just being sort of dumb. It wasn’t his fault he didn’t know anything about it. So you held back your little outburst and nodded instead.
“Yeah basically. I mean, most genetic lines now can still obviously transform, but they’re still not…” You tapped your chin with your index finger for a moment while thinking of the correct words to explain what you meant, “As much of a wolf as me.” You decided.
Your mate was watching you intensely, listening to every word you said closely, as if he was learning the most important information he’d ever need to know,“I’m honestly probably more wolf than I am human. But most modern day wolves are more human than wolf, that’s why it’s relatively easy for them to assimilate into human societies and blend in.” You informed him, the both of you gathering the rest of your things and making your way out the cave to the path leading back to the forest.
“But hiding our eyes isn’t always easy!” He interjected with enthusiasm you found oddly cute, “If we get too emotional, the potions disintegrate and our real eye color shows. So it’s not really SUPER simple with us.” Seokmin responded, grabbing your hand closest to him and interlocking your fingers.
For a moment, you wanted to pull away from him and push him for initiating the sudden contact. But you also promised him that you’d give him a chance and that you’d try to be the best mate to him that you could be. Plus, the warmth of his hand felt… kind of nice on yours. So you kept your hands together, giving his fingers an involuntary squeeze that made Seokmin’s face light up.
“I suppose you’re right. But really, as long as a wolf can keep their shit together, they can seem very human. When my people were still around, we were very obviously NOT human. We couldn’t be even if we had tried.” You casually let out, skipping over a large rock in your way.
“What were your people like?” He questioned, genuinely wanting to know what your life was like before you lost everything. His pack had tried to ask you before, but you’d always clam up and make up some excuse to leave the conversations. He was hoping with it just being the two of you, you might actually be okay with sharing some more personal information with him.
You waited a moment before you spoke up. What WERE your people like? It had been so long that you hardly even remembered anythings about them. You usually tried to push away all the thoughts of them because remembering all you lost hurt too much. But when he asked you the question, it was like everything came rushing back to you all at once.
Your family, your tribe, your traditions. You remembered how the tribal elders used to let you sit in on council meetings because your father insisted you needed to know everything there was to know about running the tribe. It made you feel so important when he did that, like you were his pride and joy. You thought about all the times you had sat next to your mom as she cooked up potions and remedies in her old stone cauldron for the healer to use on the sick and injured. She always cared so much about everything and everyone around her, you always loved to help her help people. And you could all but see your 11 big goofball brothers running up to you holding their latest hunting prizes with the most giant toothy grins they could muster. Those dumbasses, they always made the most of life. You missed them so fucking much.
Everything started swirling around your head and it made a huge smile appear on your face with watery eyes at the thought of your early life. Seokmin took notice and felt a bit proud of himself that he had made you that happy, you had never beamed a smile that big before in front of him or his pack.
“My people… they were… they were just-” You paused, “They were just the most amazing family a person could ever ask for.” You started, wiping away a sudden tear that had fallen down the side of your face from the memory of them, hopefully before your mate could notice. Of course, he still saw, but he said nothing because he knew it would upset you.
“They were always just sooooo happy. I remember every night was basically like a huge party. We’d all dance and sing around the campfire, there’d be elders telling stories and offering the young words of wisdom while the parents would scold us for interrupting anytime anything got cool or surprising.” You sadly laughed, “We were all just… one big happy family. Even if I wasn’t actually related to all of them. I can’t really explain the connection I felt to them… it was just as strong as the one I had to my biological family.” You sighed, finally reaching the edge of the forest and finding the proper trail for the both of you to set towards home.
He could hear the pain in your voice as you spoke of your past life. You must’ve really missed them. But there were so many questions he still had. What about your actual family? Did you have brothers or sisters? What kind of life did you have? How did you sleep or eat? Where did you come from? But he knew he shouldn’t ask so many at once, he didn’t want to overwhelm you or hound you with his thoughts all at once. So instead, he asked just one question he knew he should probably know the answer to: “What- What happened to them?”
His words made you halt your movements for a second. Remembering that day wasn’t something you liked to do. In fact, you went to great lengths to avoid the memory. It haunted everything you did. Every minute of everyday was plagued with the thought of their demise. You had nightmares every night. You saw their hallowed faces in every person you met. You smelt ash and burnt flesh more than you smelt anything else. Their screams were still stuck to your mind like gum on the bottom of a shoe. It tore you apart to think of it. But still, you knew he deserved to know. You’d want to know if you were him.
“They were… they were massacred.” You sadly shrugged, biting your lip to keep yourself from letting sobs out. He stroked your hand in his in an effort to soothe your sad soul. You took comfort in his small affectionate touch, it grounded you and pulled your tortured mind back down to the conversation you were having.
You took in a deep breath, “It was just any other day, at least, to me it was,” you gulped before you continued, “I was helping my mom with some new herbal remedies for some of our sick warriors when suddenly we heard this loud BANG. My mom wasn’t a wolf, in fact, back then no female was. Well, no female but me that is, but that’s beside the point,” you shook your head and tried to get yourself back on the topic at hand.
“I could feel the vibration under my feet. It was a cannon, but we didn’t know that then. They weren’t really used in our part of the world, they’d freeze in the cold weather and couldn’t always light at the altitude that my village was set on. But somehow, the Cossacks found a way to make them work… they always found a way…” you stated flatly, looking up to the sky out of respect for your fallen family.
“They were upset that my pack had killed some of their soldiers that had hurt a group of women in a neighboring tribe. So they punished us the only way they knew how: by brutally murdering everyone and setting everything they could on fire. Fire’s one of the few ways Icyan wolves can actually be killed. They killed almost everybody. As far as I know, Cyrus and me were the only ones who got out.” You swallowed back the lump stuck in your throat as you and Seokmin continued onward to your destination.
Now this question really worried him, he wasn’t sure if he even wanted answers to it. But he, again, wanted to know more about you and how you got to him. He’d figure it out eventually, might as well try to get it out of you today while he had you going already.
“Can you- can you tell me a bit about him…?” He almost whispered, afraid to say it any louder as he didn’t want to upset you.
“W-What?” You asked for clarification.
“I- I Wanna Know more about… him… Can you tell me about him?” Seokmin stuttered out. He was still unsure if he should’ve said it to begin with, but he couldn’t help it. He had to know more about the man who had you crying constantly over him.
You turned your head to look at him, “About who? Cyrus?” A bit of fear crossed your face as you attempted to confirm what he asked.
“Y-Yeah. He was your mate. And Jun kind of explained what you told him had happened to him the other day, but I don’t know much about him. Like how you two got out. Or why he died…” He looked you in the eyes and say that tears and immense sadness had began to pool in them, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to! I just figured… that it would be better to get it out in the open now…” Seokmin bit his lip as he waited for your reaction/response.
“Cyrus was… Cyrus. He is- was… my best friend.” You sighed defeatedly out loud before you continued, “He always took care of me. He imprinted on me right after I was born, so he was always there for me.” You started, still trying to find the right words to emphasize what he meant to you. But it was hard, you weren’t very touchy feely like Seokmin was. Feelings were all new to you, so you weren’t sure how to share them aloud.
You didn’t want to upset Seokmin by speaking too fondly about your past mate, but you also couldn’t help the pang in your heart you felt Everytime you heard Cyrus’s name. Part of you wanted to never speak of him again, another part of you wanted to never shut up about him. Your mind was full of conflict but your heart was full of sorrow. How could you possibly ever forget Cyrus enough to have a new mate? How could you ever emphasize how important he was to you when Seokmin, your current lover, was holding your hand? How were you supposed to pick and choose such things when your heart was pleading for a break?
“Wait- he imprinted on you right when you were born? I didn’t know that was possible…” he lost steam towards the end of his sentence and started to mumble while rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand.
“Oh no! It wasn’t like that!” You stopped him before he could get any further, “See, Icyan wolves start to shift really soon after birth, like only a month or two after. So it basically means that we’re able to phase our entire life. Cyrus was only five years older than me. He acted like an older brother to me until I hit 16 ish. But that’s when it all went wrong…” You held back a whimper that was threatening to spill past your lips.
“But the day everyone was killed, my dad and the other wolves came to defend out den. I was hiding in the hut while my mom was trying to do a protection spell. But they had killed most of our warriors already when they tried to save their families. We’re very protective of the ones we love” you sniffled slightly, still trying to hold your emotions back but obviously failing miserably.
“Cyrus came to find me after his family was killed. It was his instinct to protect me first, even though he loved his parents, they had each other still. And I was his mate, that’s how we work, mates and children before anyone else. He came into our home and tried to comfort me. We all thought we were gonna die. They had already killed my brothers by the river bank, it broke my parents. They saw red. But they knew I was still alive. So, before the Russians stormed our hut, my dad told Cyrus to take me and run as far as possible for as long as possible, so he did. After that, we were alone, but we had each other. It was like that for a few years. But then… I turned 16 and everything went to hell.” Your lip trembled and quivered with guilt.
Your current mate whined at your sadness, he wanted to help you, but he knew there was nothing he could say or do to make you feel better. So he just kept rubbing the back of your petite hand and giving you his full undivided attention. You had heard his whine, but you knew it was just because you were upset, so you gave him a small depressed smile before you kept speaking.
“Well you know that he- well that he’s obviously dead. Otherwise we couldn’t have imprinted on each other. But I’m sure you want to know… why he died” you mustered up all the courage you could before finally explaining it all to him, “He saved me. I fucked up. I was spotted by some towns people and he took the fall so they wouldn’t take me instead. Our wolf forms were similar. All Icyan wolves are white, we can just have different patterns to us. The villager that spotted me didn’t see the black spot on my head, he just saw a huge white wolf. They followed me back to our den and they were met with him. He refused to let me go. He was a telepath and he was an alpha. He ordered me to hide and he told me he loved me before he gave himself up to the angry mob.” You stopped walking and let the tears brimming your eyes freely fall.
Seokmin stood in front of you playing with your hair sweetly, trying to give you something to ground yourself and distract you from your heartache. It killed him to see you that way.
“I couldn’t- I couldn’t refuse his order. He was- he was my alpha. So I had to stay and watch them take him back to their town. I left after that to try and find him, he never told me that I couldn’t. But by the time I got there- they- they-” you sobbed out while bringing your shakey hands to your face, “They had already started torturing him. There had been reports of two huge wolves in the area and they thought he would lead them to me if they hurt him enough. But he never did.” Seokmin pulled you into his chest as you cried, barely able to breathe as you convulsed into loud whimpers and wails.
“I- I felt everything. Every cut they made, every punch, every hit. Because I’m of my shaman bloodline, I felt everything he felt, I- I’m an empath. He figured out I was in the crowd and just kept telling me that he loved me telepathically. That it wasn’t my fault. But- But how could it not be- be my fault?” You stuttered as you gripped onto Seokmin’s shirt for dear life, “I got him killed!” You all but screamed, crying into your mate’s chest so hard he was worried you’d pass out.
Seokmin just let you cry. He couldn’t imagine the guilt and pain you must have been feeling. He just held you and shushed you and told you that everything would be okay. But how could you be okay? You lost everyone in the most awful ways possible. No wonder you didn’t want him around before. If he were you, he wouldn’t either. He wouldn’t have wanted to risk losing MORE people.
He knew you thought it was your fault, but it wasn’t. If the roles were reversed, he knew you would’ve done the same thing as Cyrus. Just like he always knew that if push came to shove, he’d do the same exact thing your past mate had done to save you. You were his whole world, he’d never let anything or anybody hurt you if he could help it. He’d defend you with his very last breath if it meant you got even a second longer to live.
-
After a while, your breathing evened out and your sobs became just tears. Seokmin pulled you back up from his torso to look you in the glistening eyes. He quickly wiped away any water that had streamed down your face in the process. He really wanted to just kiss all your tears away, but now wasn’t the time for that.
“I’m so sorry (Y/N). I wish I could take away your pain. But I can’t. The best I can do is promise you that I’ll always be here for you.” He assured you, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ears.
“Even if I start crying over my dead mate?” You tried to sound sarcastic, but you honestly felt too weak to. It probably came out as more of a whine to him.
“Even if you start crying over him. Or if you miss him. Or even if you just want to talk about him. Or any of them. It’s okay. I understand and I’m here for you, no matter what.” He pecked your nose softly and gave you the most loving eyes you had ever seen.
You couldn’t help but pull him into a sweet, thankful kiss, attempting to show him how grateful you were for him with your actions rather than your words that always seemed to fail you. Once you pulled back, you realized just how tired you were. Seokmin seemed to pick up on it to because, suddenly, you were in his arms being carried through the woods bridal style. You gave him a look of uncertainty, he just nodded at you and gave you a loving smile, signaling that he would be okay to walk back the rest of the way to the house with you in his arms.
You wanted to protest it all for his sake, but your eyelids felt too heavy. So instead, you just snuggled your now swollen face into his chest and let the darkness take over, feeling safe in his arms and knowing he would never let anything bad happen to you. For the first time in a long time, you felt like maybe everything would be okay.
(Updated 9/17)
#seventeen#seventeen angst#seventeen au#seventeen fanfic#seventeen fluff#seventeen smut#svt au#seventeen x reader#svt seokmin#seokmin imagines#seokmin x reader#seokmin angst#seventeen seokmin#dokyeom#svt dk
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Assuage: Chapter 5
Yoongi x Reader
Genre: ABO (Alpha/Beta/Omega) dynamics, angst, fluff, smut, enemies to lovers
Warnings: A snake attack (nothing too, too descriptive though), an injured child
Author’s Note: This part is relatively shorter than the last few BUT it’s all for reasons and chapter 6 will be extra long to make up for it! Hope you guys enjoy it!
Once Yoongi allowed himself to become comfortable within the pack, it scared him just how easy it was for him to assimilate and truly feel comfortable there.
Working at the hardware shop with Kibum was going great, and Yoongi had even managed to design and create his own furniture to fill his cabin up with. Yoongi had also started to slowly open up to the other members of the pack, spending more time with both Hobi and Jungkook especially since they were fellow Alphas. Taehyung was undeniably his closest friend though, and if Yoongi was being honest, he came to be extremely grateful for how the Beta had taken him under his wing and convinced him to stay.
As for you, Yoongi honestly didn’t see you around much. Per Taehyung’s explanation, you were often busy as Pack Physician and never really had much free time. Although Yoongi didn’t miss arguing with you, he had to admit that he had gotten used to you always being around so the absence of your presence was noted. He didn’t admit that to Taehyung though, especially after Taehyung had teased him and asked “Why do you care where my sister is, hyung?”
One particular day, Yoongi was hanging out in his cabin, attempting to figure out what was the best way to arrange the living room area when there was a knock on his door. Walking over to it and pulling it open, he was surprised to see Hobi and Jungkook standing on the steps.
“Hey hyung,” Hobi smiled.
“Hi hyung,” Jungkook echoed.
“Hey, what are you two doing here?” Yoongi wondered as he leaned against the door.
“We came to ask you if you wanted to come hunting with us,” Jungkook said excitedly.
“If you aren’t busy,” Hobi added.
“I’m free,” Yoongi nodded. “I don’t have a shift at the hardware shop today.”
“Well, let’s go,” Jungkook smiled. After quickly changing into some looser clothes, Yoongi locked up his cabin before following behind Hobi and Jungkook as they led the way into the forest that surrounded the pack’s territory.
However, as soon as they made it deep enough into the forest where they couldn’t see the cluster of cabins and buildings anymore, all three of them froze in their places.
“You smell that?” Jungkook murmured.
“It’s snakes,” Hobi answered.
“Yeah, but there’s something else there,” Jungkook shook his head. The three of them continued to stand there, sniffing the air and all of a sudden, the realization hit Yoongi.
“It’s fear,” he whispered. “Someone’s in trouble.”
“What? Who?” Jungkook tried to say but Yoongi had already ran off, sprinting towards the scent. The closer that he got to the scent, the sound of screaming got louder and louder and his eyes widened when he realized what was happening.
There was a little boy in a small clearing, terror clear on his face as he laid on the ground. When Yoongi looked down, his breath caught in his throat when he saw a snake wrapped around the boy’s legs.
“Hey hey,” Yoongi spoke up and the boy’s head whipped around to look at him.
“Please, please help me!” The boy pleaded and Yoongi nodded his head.
“I am, but I need you to try and calm down,” Yoongi instructed him softly, slowly moving closer to them. “I know you’re scared, but it’s very important that you listen to me.”
“O-ok,” the boy nodded, willing his body to stay still even though Yoongi could see his limbs still shaking.
“Holy shit,” Yoongi heard Hobi gasp but he kept moving, creeping in front of the boy so that the snake couldn’t see him. Waiting a few moments in order to make sure that the snake didn’t hear him, he leapt forward, grabbing ahold of the snake’s mouth and pulling it off of the boy’s legs. Yoongi then made quick work of killing the snake, letting it fall from his hands and onto the ground once he was done.
“Are you ok, little one?” Jungkook asked the boy as he helped him up but the little boy didn’t answer him, instead choosing to run right over to Yoongi and clutch onto his pants leg as he sobbed harshly.
“Hey, it’s ok,” Yoongi whispered softly as he bent down and picked the boy up, settling him on his hip. “You’re alright now.”
“I-I d-d-didn’t mean to,” the boy sobbed and Yoongi just shushed him as he lightly bounced him in his arms.
“I’m sure you didn’t, and it wasn’t your fault,” Yoongi assured him. “Can you tell me your name, little pup?”
“Ch-Chan,” the boy replied.
“Ok Chan, I’m Yoongi,” Yoongi introduced himself. “I’m gonna take you to the infirmary cabin so that we can get you checked out, ok?”
“Ok,” Chan nodded.
“We’ll go find his parents and let them know,” Hobi offered and Yoongi smiled gratefully before walking off towards the infirmary.
......................
“Yoongi?” You called as you walked into the examination where Yoongi and Chan had been waiting. “The receptionist told me that you brought a pup in.”
“Yeah. Jungkook, Hobi, and I were out about to hunt and we found this little one with a snake wrapped around his legs,” Yoongi explained, making your eyes widened.
“Are you serious?” You gasped, quickly walking over to the pup and bending down, immediately looking over his legs and checking for injuries.
“I think I managed to get to him before any real damage could be done, but I thought I’d bring him here so that you could check for sure,” Yoongi said and you nodded your head.
“Good call,” you murmured. “Well, it doesn’t look like the snake was able to bite him so there shouldn’t be any venom in him. It must’ve been super scary though, huh?”
“Really scary,” Chan agreed softly, making you coo at him.
“It’s ok Chan, you’re safe now,” you reminded him, taking ahold of one of his hands and lightly rubbing the inside of his wrist where his scent gland was. Your scent of white peaches and oranges began to fill the air, and Yoongi couldn’t help but to notice how...relaxing it was. It was almost like being in a warm room, while also being soothing at the same time.
“Mr. Yoongi was like a superhero,” Chan told you as you continued to scent him.
“Yeah?” You smiled softly as you looked up at Chan. “I guess it was a good thing that Yoongi was there then, huh?”
Just then, the door to the examination room burst open and a man and a woman rushed inside.
“Oh my gosh, Chan,” a woman sighed heavily, sprinting over and scooping Chan up into her arms.
“Is he ok, Y/N-ah?” The man asked as he turned to face you.
“From the looks of it, yes,” you answered. “I think he’s just more shaken up than anything else.”
“Channie, didn’t we tell you about going out into the forest by yourself?” The woman lightly scolded him and Yoongi could tell by her scent that she was an Alpha.
“I just wanted to pick some flowers to give to Teacher Jimin,” Chan pouted.
“We know buddy, but you have to tell someone where you’re going,” the man added, his calming scent letting Yoongi know that he was an Omega. “What if Yoongi-ssi, Jungkook-ssi, and Hoseok-ssi hadn’t found you? We wouldn’t have known what happened to you.”
“I’m sorry,” Chan apologized and the woman just sighed before hugging him tighter to her chest.
“Thank you so much for saving our son Yoongi-ssi,” the man said as he turned to look at Yoongi. “I don’t even wanna think about what might’ve happened if you hadn’t found him.”
“It’s really no problem,” Yoongi shrugged.
“I’m Kyung and this is my mate and Chan’s mother, Soo Jung,” Kyung told him.
“Nice to meet you,” Yoongi nodded.
“Well, even though I’m sure he’s fine, I still want to do some tests on him just to make sure,” you interjected, and both Kyung and Soo Jung nodded in agreement.
“I’ll leave you guys to it,” Yoongi said before looking down at Chan. “You’ll be a little bit more careful from now on, right pup?”
“Right! Chan chirped, making Yoongi smile.
“Good. I’ll see you guys around.”
“Thank you again Yoongi-ssi,” Soo Jung spoke up.
“No need,” Yoongi waved his hand dismissively before turning around and opening the door, stepping out and shutting the door behind him. Just as he made it down the hall and was about to step out of the front door, he heard you calling his name.
“Yoongi!” You called out, rushing down the hall towards him.
“Yeah?” He wondered as he turned to look at you.
“I just wanted to tell you that it was really cool of you to help Chan,” you told him.
“It wasn’t an issue Y/N,” he chuckled.
“But still, you’re new to the pack and you’re not necessarily bound by the obligation of having to take care of packmates like we are,” you said.
“Well, I kind of am, since I decided to stay,” Yoongi pointed out. “Besides, he’s just a pup who didn’t know any better.”
“Well let me tell you, this isn’t the first time that Chan has ended up in the infirmary because he’s just too curious for his own good,” you giggled.
“That probably explains why you were so good at dealing with him, huh?” Yoongi guessed and you shrugged your shoulders.
“It’s a part of my job,” you replied. “Especially living in an area surrounded by woods, you tend to treat a lot of pups for small injuries. I have to say though, the snake thing was a first.”
“I bet,” Yoongi chuckled. An awkward silence fell over the two of you again, the both of you just looking at each other for a few seconds.
“Well, I better get back to Chan,” you said. “Poor Soo Jung is probably going crazy out of her mind by now.”
“Yeah, sure. See you around,” Yoongi said.
“See you,” you nodded before turning around and walking back down the hall. Yoongi then pushed open the door to the infirmary and stepped outside, the lingering scent of white peaches and oranges wrapping around him like a warm hug.
#bts#bangtanarmynet#bts reactions#bts imagines#yoongi x reader#suga x reader#abo suga#abo yoongi#bts yoongi#bts suga#yoongi smut#yoongi angst#yoongi fluff#suga smut#suga angst#suga fluff#werewolf bts#abo bts
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@gingerreggg i honestly didn't think it would get this far (part 1) (part 2) (part 3)
Heads Up- Part 4 (Joseph x Bust! Caesar)
▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪
"Jojo! Wake up!" Caesar yelled from a neighboring tabletop in Joseph's room.
"Alright, alright," he groaned, groggily. "You make such a great alarm clock," he laughed, as he rubbed his eyes and stretched out with a yawn.
It had been four days now since Caesar first came alive, and Joseph was surprised how quickly the living artwork had just sort of become part of everyday life. Somehow, even a talking lump of painted clay very quickly assimilated into his "normal"-- if anything could even be considered normal anymore in this situation.
Joseph stood up and began to plod lazily to the kitchen for breakfast, but was stopped by an angry shout.
"HEY! Are you forgetting something?" yelled Caesar from his bedside table.
"Ok, I'm sorry, clay boy!" Joseph grumbled crankily in response, stomping over to the table. Hell hath no fury than a sleepless artist without his morning coffee.
Caesar was quite heavy, being made of dense clay, and Joseph struggled to lower him down to the floor. As Caesar could only jump a few inches at a time, it had become a regular routine for Joseph to lift and lower him onto tables and platforms, as he was completely helpless when placed high off the floor.
"There, happy now?" Joseph groaned, as he lumbered off to the kitchen. Caesar bounced his way after him, cursing under his breath about Joseph's long striding legs that made it hard for the bust to keep up.
As Joseph poured and stirred his morning coffee, Caesar impatiently hopped about the kitchen floor. "Don't tell me you're gonna place me onto the table again."
Joseph smiled between sips. "Alright, you've been through a lot already. Perhaps it's my turn to go down to your level." Bending down, he set his cup gently on the floor, and sat down cross-legged on the wooden kitchen floor, leaning his back against the wall.
Creator and creation sat side-by-side having breakfast-- a surreal scene that was now a part of Joseph's every morning. As he took another sip, Joseph absent-mindedly offered Caesar some of his coffee.
"Want a taste? It's brewed." he asked.
"I am a clay bust," Caesar reminded him. "I don't drink."
"Oh yeah, sorry. Suit yourself then," Joseph said, taking another sip of the hot, fragrant liquid.
A thought crossed Joseph's curious mind. "Say, Caesar, what's it like being a bust? Do you feel any needs? Hungry, thirsty, bathroom, tiredness?"
Caesar pondered for a moment. "Hungry and thirsty? Certainly not. Though I do feel sleepy at times. And bathroom, forget about it." Joseph giggled.
"You're such a mysterious creature, Caesar," he said. "And that's coming from someone who made you."
Caesar sighed --somehow, as he didn't seem to breathe, yet could speak.
"I don't know how I work, or why," he said, somewhat exasperated, "and I'm not sure how I'm even alive in the first place. Yet I'm glad I am, somehow. I guess life as a bouncing head is better than no life at all."
Joseph gently stroked Caesar's nub of a shoulder.
There was a knock on the door. "Jojo! Caesar! It's me again!"
"Gimme a sec, Suzi!" Joseph called back, gulping the last of his coffee and placing it on the sink. He went over to the door, and was once again greeted with the usual cheerful smile.
"Oh great," Caesar groaned, bouncing his way over to the living room. "It's her again."
Suzi entered the house, but Joseph blocked her. "Wait. You swear nobody else knows about Caesar? Just us?"
"He's our little secret," she replied with a wink. With a sigh of relief Joseph allowed her to enter, locking the door behind her.
"Hello Caesar!" she greeted the bust, stooping down and playfully tapping his nose as a welcoming gesture, to his visible annoyance.
"Why are you here again?" demanded the bust. "Here to handle me again? Cause I don't like it."
"About that..." Joseph said uneasily.
"You see, Caesar, I've got classes to attend every week. I'm gonna have to head to university today to pass my assignments, and since I can't leave you alone...I've arranged for her to stay over today!"
"Great, you hired a babysitter," Caesar whined sarcastically. "I'd clap if I had hands."
"Don't worry, it'll be fun!" Suzi said, taking off her backpack and placing it on the floor. "Joseph told me he sees you're very bored, stuck in the house all day with nothing to do, so I figured I'd try doing some activities with you to pass the time."
------
With Joseph away for the afternoon, it was only Suzi and Caesar in the house. She'd brought some books, a few toy blocks, and colored pencils and paper, which she spread all over the living room floor.
"What can you do with those lips of yours?" Suzi asked Caesar.
"Pretty much everything," Caesar said. "I don't have any arms or hands, so I'm pretty much forced to do all the picking up and holding things with my mouth. Thank Joseph for sculpting these lovely, flexible lips," he huffed, somewhat amused.
Suzi smiled, picking up a sheet of paper. "You could perhaps work on your dexterity! I figured you should try practicing some fun activities to improve your skills!"
"Anything," Caesar moaned. "It's been very dull here."
Caesar's first activity was learning how to write and draw. Bending over as low as he could without falling on his face, he awkwardly picked up one of the pencils in his mouth. He hopped closer to the paper, which Suzi had propped up vertically against a clipboard, and slowly, cautiously brought the point closer to the paper.
"There you go", Suzi encouraged, sitting beside him. "And now...gently press the tip to the paper."
"Mrrph hrr shr ymm ehh?" Caesar mumbled incoherently with the pencil in his mouth.
Suzi laughed. "You can't talk when you're holding something, huh. Don't worry, you're doing great, just carefully hold the pencil."
With a great deal of effort Caesar tried to write his own name. It was a bit of a challenge trying to gauge how much pressure he had to apply to the pencil, as he couldn't figure out how hard to press the point.
*SNAP!* The pencil point snapped off as Caesar pressed too hard. Frustrated, Caesar spat out the broken pencil onto the floor.
"Damn it!" Caesar yelled, pressing his forehead against the paper in complete vexation.
"Ok, ok, don't be mad," Suzi reassured. "Here, have another pencil," she said, gently placing another, sharpened pencil in Caesar's mouth. "It won't hurt to try again."
------
"I'm hoooome!" Joseph called out from the door, as he entered the front door. It was already night time by the time he returned, with the evening sky graced by a bright quarter moon.
"Jojo! You're back!" Suzi said excitedly. "I've been waiting so long for you!"
"Why?" said Joseph, with a hint of concern. "How's Caesar?"
"Oh, he has a little surprise to show you," she replied, tugging urgently on his arm.
She led Joseph into the living room, where Caesar sat on the floor next to a piece of paper on a clipboard. On it were a few scribbles, almost like a toddler's drawings, and on the top, scrawled in illegible, wiggly handwriting --or rather, mouthwriting-- were the letters, C-A-E-S-A-R, with each letter a different color.
Joseph couldn't hold back a smile. It felt oddly flattering that his artwork...was creating his own artwork. An art-ception, perhaps.
"I love the colors," Joseph complimented.
"Only because my pencil broke with every letter," Caesar complained.
"He's been learning very quickly, I've been teaching him how to use his mouth to do things! He may just be a head, but he's come pretty far in figuring out how to get tasks done on his own," Suzi explained, almost like a kindergarten teacher meeting with a student's parent.
Caesar smiled at her. She may have been quite intimidating, even frightening, when she first met him, but he'd gradually warmed up to her as the day went on.
"Say, Caesar," grinned Joseph, reaching into a paper bag he had brought home. "I've got a surprise of my own for you!" He pulled out a small, fancy hat and a bowtie, which he proudly showed off to his clay creation. Caesar recoiled at the sight.
"What...the hell are those?" he groaned.
"Suzi said you were, uhm, naked, so I figured I ought to get you dressed up," Joseph smirked.
"I don't even have a body to expose!" Caesar tried to rationalize.
He grumbled irately as Joseph lifted him up onto the living room table, placing the hat gently onto his head, careful not to ruin the clay spikes of his hair. He then tied the bowtie around Caesar's neck, with a customized collar that covered up the bare portions of his flesh-colored bare torso.
"I look ridiculous, Jojo," Caesar groaned, as he looked at his own reflection in the mirror. But without hands, there was no way he could take off his new, fancy accessories, and was resigned to abide with his fashion choice.
"I think it looks handsome on you," Suzi assured with an awkward smile.
Caesar looked back at his reflection, decked out in whatever little clothing he could wear. And as silly as he felt, he couldn't help but also feel a bit grateful.
"Say, Suzi, what are you up to today?" Joseph quipped.
"I hadn't been doing much, really. I graduated a year ahead of you, so I'm pretty much vacant these days," she sighed.
"You don't suppose you could visit more?" Joseph requested. "I'm sure Caesar would appreciate the company."
"I live just a few blocks down the road!" Suzi replied, grinning brightly. "I wouldn't mind staying overnight every now and then!"
"Alright!" Joseph cheered, pumping his fists in joy. "Won't you like that, Cae? Getting to hang out with friends?"
"Friends," mumbled Caesar with a tip of his head, as a smile crept across his smooth, clay face.
"I would love that very much indeed."
------------
(Previous Chapter)
(Next Chapter)
#jjba#gingerreggg#hands of life au#bust!caesar#sculptor!joseph#battle tendency#jojo's bizarre adventure#caesar x joseph#caejose#heads up
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