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infinitethree · 2 years

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This is a question for the T3, though mostly Day. Have you ever encountered others who normally isn’t part of the Dream SMP but is in other realities? Meaning those who usually belong to other servers but in this one reality are part of the Dream SMP?

Day has, at this point, mostly learned how not to flinch slightly when a question pops into his head.

This is a handy thing to have learned, because it lets him seamlessly make excuses to whoever he might be talking to and exit a conversation. It’s easier to say that he has to start dinner or forgot about taking care of some minor task rather than deal with having people be nosy about whatever he’d been asked.

That’s less the case for questions that dig at his trauma, of course. He’s still working on smothering his tells for those.

Sure, it’s not a super healthy mentality. But he’s also aware that a big chunk of his thought processes are deeply fucked up.

He waits until he’s gotten back home to begin to answer the new question. If Theo is around, he’s not anywhere in earshot.

…Though he’s pretty sure his eldest has been getting slightly better at stealth. It can be hard to judge, sometimes; Theo rarely bothers with being sneaky when he can instead bulldoze his way through whatever was stupid enough to stand in his path.

The flight back had given him time to consider the question. “There’s been a few cases like that,” Day starts with. “The one that comes up the most is someone named Grian. I have no idea why he just seems to show up every so often. If he’s there, we know it’s a more or less peaceful world. Other than that…”

He tries to remember some of the others, though can’t recall anyone else who appears with any sort of frequency in the Dream SMP. Sometimes people who are usually present are missing, but it’s much rarer that the reverse is true.

The question is complicated by what exactly counts as the Dream SMP being an unexpectedly murky issue.

When he, Theo, and Vio get the pull, they don’t always end up in anything Day can definitively say is a server at all. Whatever causes their ender chests to remain static doesn’t seem like it discriminates; the contents have yet to change, no matter how many non-server realities or places that otherwise definitely aren’t the Dream SMP they wind up in.

At this point, all they can do is shrug and call it a weird quirk of the multiverse or executive meddling to make their job marginally easier.

“...I’d count Time, but I try not to potentially insult the entity who controls time and probably reality. We’re still not positive about that, and aren’t willing to stick our nose into their business to find out for sure. None of us are interested in pissing off someone who can unmake everything we know and love.”

Idly, he raps his knuckles against the oak plank wall he’s passing next to. It’s a familiar superstition borne of a bone-deep terror at the idea of angering the deity. “In the event that they can see everything or are otherwise observing, that was meant as respectfully as possible.”

He shudders at the idea of invoking the wrath of a god who he still suspects created a reality from the tattered remnants of his own admin access.

For just a moment, his unease crests in a way he chalks up to the tangled knot of emotions around everything tied to his first life.

Things are better now, even if he wants to stop being one of the ones who has to shoulder the burden of keeping things that way.

Which is only going to get worse now that he has to try and navigate the idea of teaching Lee code. The idea of leaving any sort of vital education to Lucid makes Day break out in a cold sweat. The idea of leaving such an important part of his youngest son's education in his hands, though, adds near literal hives and roiling nausea to the mix.

Better is not perfect. Remorseful doesn't mean good. Day has sacrificed far too much to risk Lee being hurt in any capacity.

Given that nobody else knows code, that means that Day will have to try to figure out how the hell to teach it to a ten year old. It's not that he resents or even dislikes the thought of teaching his kids; hell, in most cases it serves as a good chance to bond with them.

It's just that code is incredibly complicated. Most of what Day knows is instinctual. Exposure to a wealth of new items, concepts, and needing to figure out how to fix crimes against morality have done a lot to increase his understanding, but…

Not for the first time, he wishes he had a sounding board for this sort of thing.

=========

Wherever it is that Theo is, it looks like some sort of workshop dedicated to bookbinding. The eldest Was-Taken sibling is slowly and methodically assembling a book with lovely, elaborate calligraphy and art.

While he's been caught off guard before, whatever it is he's making seems important enough that his only reaction for several moments is a soft twitch of his wings.

He gently sets his work down once he's at a good stopping point, and gives a long, steady exhale.

The sound makes Perce raise his head curiously. It's clear that he’s the one who did the calligraphy, though the art seems to have been by a third party.

He tilts his head slightly at his eldest brother. "...Something happen?" Theo’s wings ruffle slightly as he says, "Question about if we see people during fuckin’ travels that shouldn't be there. Which, yeah, sometimes. Multiverse is weird n’ whatnot. Still have trouble wrapping my head around how fuckin isolated shit is. SMPza was a shit place, but at least if you walked long enough, you'd end up in a different territory.”

Cosmic outlier cosmic outlier It was SO hard trying to act like we understood the weird stuff there– Yeah but D3 was technically an admin like, what, ten times over? Territory management, our beloathed.

“Dad was only admin ‘cause I didn’t want to deal with that shit. Besides, s’not the same as admins like Lucid is. Or…Lee, apparently,” Theo adds, a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Perce, who at this point is used to only hearing half of a conversation, picks up on the general direction that the Fates are going in. “Or Daz,” he points out. Theo snaps his fingers and points at him. “Yeah, him too. Fuckin’ weird that he’s another one. Makes me wonder…” His thoughts trail off, brow creasing as he mentally goes back over when he had first met the now-obnoxiously bubbly Tommy.

Between what Daz had said and how the local Dream had acted, Theo now suspects that the later had not just known about Daz’s capacity for being an admin, but had needed it, somehow.

He hadn’t just been afraid, he had been terrified to the point of tears.

At the time, Theo had written it off as another instance of the unhealthy, unhinged obsession that has cropped up more often than he cared to dwell on during his traveling.

He mutters, mostly to himself, “Dunno why they aren’t both being trained, seems fuckin’ obvious.”

There’s a noise of disagreement from Perce, who flicks his wings slightly. “Too many cooks can fuck things up, especially if those cooks ever disagree. That’s even before you get into how easily things can get messed up, or that Daz can be talked into just about anything.”

But he’s a golden retriever! He just wants to make everyone happy! Yeah, exactly. If someone seemed upset enough, he’d go along with whatever they wanted him to do He’d summon infinite items for everyone He’d make it rain candy because that seemed like a thing people might like He’s not THAT dumb– Who have YOU been watching? He’s an idiot. Idiot is harsh. He’s just a bit… He’s got a different kind of smart, stop being mean–

“If you’re all gonna bicker about the guy, do it more fuckin’ quietly,” Theo says, rolling his eyes at the chorus of grumbled not-quite apologies from the cluster of voices in his head.

Or…the old voices, anyway. He’s still not sure what the deal is with the new ones.

His little brother snorts softly, hiding a grin at the exasperated annoyance Theo has for the Fates.

Which just makes him point threateningly, but otherwise not mention it. “People who aren’t usually part of the Dream SMP…the fuck is your criteria for that, anyway? If you mean fuckin’ baseline, we all see tons of fuckin’ worlds with oodles n’ oodles more people in ‘em. Servers aren’t always a thing, or sometimes they’re weird as shit. Other times people’re just fuckin’...there. One dude pops up every so often, uhh…Wheat or Bran or something like that. Flown with a few of ‘em ‘cause sometimes they have fuckin’ wings, usually help him pull off a prank or two, have acted as a middleman for Caper n’ Spark to sell some of them the schematics for glitter TnT n’ for him to sell them some shit I don’t remember the purpose of. Always a new one, always too much technical shit for my taste.”

He racks his brain for other instances of repeated but non-baseline players, but draws a blank. Perce points out, “Haven’t there been competition worlds?”

Tournament worlds are fun! Vio subbing in for a last minute injury was amazing– I still can’t believe they looked at THAT bastard, then at Day and Theo, and really thought he’d be the least OP out of all of us–

“First of all, we all fuckin’ agreed that he needed a world to let off steam. Second of all, he is not more fuckin’ OP than me–” “Dunno, he sure seems to kick your ass a lot–” Theo abruptly grabs a thick rubber pad and chucks it at his little brother, who leans out of the way of it.

Smugly, Perce tells him, “You’re too obvious. Gotta be faster if you want to win against the reigning king of manhunts–” “Oh, I’ll show you fuckin’ fast–!”

Theo launches himself over the table, but his little brother is already darting away and out the door of their joint workshop. Both of them sport wide, toothy grins that make it clear they’re using the bickering as an excuse to take part in the familiar bonding ritual of mostly friendly fratricide.

=============

The last of the trio pauses in the act of reading out loud. He, along with Aver, are in Aver’s workroom. A sleeveless navy hoodie is being embroidered with dozens of tiny, shimmering stars in shades of silvery white and light blue.

There’s a noise of curiosity from Aver, but he doesn’t look up from the tiny, sure stitches he’s making. It’s not common that he does this sort of work himself any more, but Khons refused to let anyone but Aver have the thread spun from his wool.

Sure, the finished piece will be for Aster, and the thread was offered freely to him as a sign of Khons and Alephs’ friendship. Those didn’t magically erase his trauma.

Even now, Aver is always extremely careful to return any excess and to secure it in the meantime.

It doesn’t matter that he doesn’t think anyone would be stupid or greedy enough to take it even as a joke; the fact is that Khons, and by extension Aleph, have had issues with it being stolen in the past.

Aver, despite his fondness for causing light to moderate headaches, does genuinely want to help people learn to overcome, or at least learn to live with, the strife and misery that led them to end up in Sanctuary.

For all that Lucid is its admin, and all that the T3 are its shepherds, Aver will always be one of those who decided to dig his heels in to make it a home instead of a living hellscape.

The leader of that charge has been quiet for a few moments before he speaks again. “...A question about non-baseline people who show up in the Dream SMP,” he murmurs, looking thoughtful.

Aver is more than familiar with the faint crease of his brow, slightly narrowed eyes, and idle flicks of his tail.

His not-dad is trying to figure something out, but this is one of the rare times when he has no idea what he’s tripped up on.

“Talk to me, big man. You know I’m a good fuckin’ sounding board.” “...It feels like a weird question,” Vio says slowly, that furrow increasing.

“...Seems fuckin’ normal to me? Or not any weirder than any of the others you’ve mentioned.” “Yeah, exactly. I don’t understand why it feels so off.”

Aver hums, his stitching pausing for a few moments. Looking up at Vio without moving his head, he points out, “Might be weird eldritch radar. Dunno what you’d be picking up. God vibes?”

Vio visibly grimaces at the idea. “I don’t want to meddle in the affairs of the divine. I’ve heard enough horror stories from Theo to want nothing to do with any of that.” “Maybe you’re getting scoped out to be a fuckin’ prophet or some shit,” Aver says, mostly to see the way his not-dad’s face contorts in absolute horror.

If the alien had fur, Aver has no doubt it would be standing on end. As it is, he shudders violently. “Nope, no, do not tempt the universe with that sort of talk–” “Not that fuckin’ big of a deal, some of them are chill–” “Your experiences are not only not universal, but entirely unhelpful. Just because Lady Death looks kindly on you–” “Hey, Mumza is pog! Fuckin’ loves hearing about you, too, n’ is still bummed she can’t talk to you directly–”

“I wanted to molt a dozen times in a row being near Philza when he was used as her vessel. I don’t want to revisit that experience. I didn’t even know I could break out in hives, but damn if that isn’t what happened!”

Aver rolls his eyes. “Fuckin’ drama queen. For someone who talks to gods semi-regularly, you’re awfully fuckin’ anti-divine.” “I’m not against divinity, because I’m not suicidal, I just want to remove every layer of my skin and disinfect it in lava by being near them. My body evidently decided that gods are too close to magic, which I am allergic to.”

“Your fatal fuckin’ flaw. That, or being a stubborn bastard.” Vio’s eyes narrow, and he points a finger at him. “Pot, kettle. You wouldn’t keep calling me your dad if you weren’t just as bad–” “Not-dad, get it right,” Aver chirps smugly.

“Fuck you,” Vio retorts flatly. Aver’s smugness only grows as he says, “Not my fault you can’t remember the joke.” “I’m physically incapable of forgetting the joke without severe memory loss, because Day and Theo take every possible chance to tell everyone we meet about it!”

The reminder makes Aver cackle with laughter. “Yeah, Theo thinks it’s fuckin’ hysterical. Can’t blame him there, ‘cause it is. N’ now you have to vanish for the week around fuckin’ Father’s Day, otherwise the whole fuckin’ server lines up to dunk on you.”

An exasperated sigh comes from the weird purple alien who has become such a bafflingly massive part of his life. “I regret my life choices.” “No you don’t. You’ve never been happier.” “Funny, I didn’t know wanting to beat my head against the nearest obsidian block counts as happiness.”

#asked&answered #chronotag #DayDreamer #ChaoticTheseus #CleverPerseus #FatedChat #DoctorViolet #TailorAver #NotFamily #WasTakenAnarchy #long post #the weather and my body are actively sabotaging my efforts to be productive #I would like it to STOP RAINING so I can think for more than six hours every third day please and thank you #SMPza is/was a weird place with weird rules #me? worldbuilding for a world that isn't really seen??#it's so fucking likely #worldbuilding is my first & truest love #thank you for another question I went off the rails for #hopefully less violently than the last one

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gaoau · 5 months

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harlequin

it's the color of his eyeshadow (it's the color of his jealousy).

is there color in your world? warnings — none. word count — 1.8k

prev. — next.

among the buzz of students crowding the halls, [name]'s feet dashed across the tiles to reach each destination in time. the walkie-talkie in her hand beeped and crackled to catch her attention. she brought it to her mouth, pressing the button to spit out a strangled reply as she struggled to catch her breath.

"we needa check on some first years," the president's voice blended with white noise.

[name] skidded to a stop, palm slamming against a wall. she had only just stepped foot on the third-years' floor. "roger," she grumbled into the mic before whipping around to dart down the stairs.

barbaric first-year students awaited for her to put their antics to a stop. the sole of her shoe pressed against the tiles for a millisecond and switched to the other just as quick. she passed by atsumu at a food stand as he intimidated an underclassman. his brother didn't bother stopping him as he stuffed his face with takoyaki.

"'tsumu-kun, please, refrain from scarin' the kids! 'samu-kun, keep 'im in check, thanks!"

atsumu flinched, shoulders jolting. he could only catch a glimpse of [name] as she disappeared down the hall. osamu choked on his food as a karmic punishment for laughing.

as if on cue, ginjima joined in time to shove a water bottle in his hand and save his poor soul. "was that [surname]-san?" he patted osamu's back for good measure, directing his question at atsumu—who could actually talk without dying.

"yeah, i forgot she's also patrollin'."

"seemed ta be in a hurry, though," osamu commented, voice hoarse and a couple hacks still blocking his throat. he pounded his fist onto his chest to loosen them up.

ginjima raised his own drink in [name]'s direction like a glass of champagne. "kudos to her."

the twins mimicked him, although atsumu raised his toothpick. "kudos to her," they muttered in unison. ginjima regretted ever meeting them as they tried jinxing each other over and over.

rintarou showed up empty-handed soon after while judging the feral monkeys battling one another with only one hand. upon spotting him, atsumu slapped osamu's arm away to ask for his drink in peace. rintarou shrugged. "[name] stole it on my way here." his tone dripped with mocking amusement.

"goddammit, [nickname]-chan."

it was her class' turn to bask in the spotlight and take in the applause of teachers and students alike. the gym brimmed with people finding comfortable seats to enjoy the show. whispered murmurs and joyous anticipation flooded the atmosphere.

[name]'s walkie-talkie beeped in her pocket. she groaned to the empty hallway before answering the call.

"there's some stage fright happenin' backstage of class 2-1's show. anyone close?"

she squealed her thanks to any deities watching over. nobody had the chance to reply as she practically hollered into the device, "i'll take care of it!"

"thanks, [surname]. countin' on ya."

finally, an excuse to enter the gym and appreciate the hard work her classmates had put into their pantomime show—a show she couldn't be a part of after deciding to offer a hand to the student council. she spun on her heels and bolted down the stairs, eyes darting around to make sure no loitering students were causing trouble. her feet leaped into the air in an excited celebration.

still taking quick and large steps, [name] weaved her way around the chattering audience, tripping every now and then on polished shoes. she exhaled out a sigh of lead when she managed to reach the backstage of the gym.

a sealed water bottle flying towards her chest stopped her dead in her tracks. breathing heavily, shoulders rising and falling at an unsteady pace, she gave herself a moment to slow down. rintarou stared patiently as she recomposed herself.

she tore the cap open and chugged down a good quarter, water rushing down her throat like a heavenly elixir. "thanks… i was really needin' this…" her slurred words mixed with huffs and puffs. knees slightly bent, she supported her weight with her free palm on her thigh. "thanks fer the one earlier, too…"

"thank atsumu for that one."

[name] chuckled, still out of breath. "shoot… my bad, 'tsumu-kun…" the cooling plastic pressed briefly against her forehead as she saluted the image of atsumu's frown in her brain.

rintarou freed her hand from the bottle. she thanked him under one last sigh. "i don't think i've ever seen you move this much." he poked fun at her as if she hadn't forced him to dance—somewhat—during the sports festival.

"i'm tryna figure out if i should feel insulted."

their quiet laughter blended into one another's. he smiled to himself when she stood up straight, breathing normally. "what are you running around so much for?"

"heard one of the guys was gettin' stage fright." she pulled the walkie-talkie out of her pocket and shook it in her hand for emphasis. "came to check on 'em."

"oh, that dude over there?" his thumb jutted behind him to point at the boy in question, back pressed flat against a wall. people crowded around him on the floor, using notebooks and sheets of paper to fan air into his face. "yeah, he looks like he's about to pass out." a snicker fell from his lips before he could catch it.

[name]'s fingers slapped playfully at his bicep. "gosh, rintarou-kun! go take care of somethin', get yer makeup done, i'm on a time crunch here. thanks for the water again."

"anything you need." he stepped out of her way with a grin digging into his cheeks. [name] patted his back and darted across the stage to her classmate.

rintarou watched her while taking a sip of the bottle in his hand. she shooed the concerned students away, a frown etched on her forehead as she scolded them for suffocating the boy. her knees hit the floor without hesitation. upon closer examination, it was that guy nabu-kun she was friends with.

relief seemed to wash over his ghost-white—or whichever shade of white it was—face when [name] grasped his shoulders. she spoke to him with care and kindness, pronouncing her words carefully so his frightened mind could take them all in. rintarou didn't need to hear her to know her lips circled around a free have fun.

he chugged down the last bits of water [name] had left.

"i'm on my break, please ask somebody else," [name] whined into the microphone of her walkie-talkie. her friends at the lunch table could see her soul slipping out of her body.

the device crackled and a muffled voice came through, "we really need someone to patrol, [surname]-chan."

"ask the vice-prez, her class should be done by now."

"roger."

[name] glared at the walkie-talkie for a few seconds until she had made sure it wouldn't beep again. her lungs filled with air to every last corner, only for her to exhale it all in an eight-second sigh of exhaustion. she planted her forehead on atsumu's shoulder beside her.

ginjima prodded her lunch with his chopsticks. "[surname]-san, ya should eat somethin'."

"yeah, just gimme a minute," she wheezed out. her brain was doing the whole catching its breath inside her overheating skull. "things weren't this tiring last year. i didn't even get ta participate in the show this time!"

her sharp eyes whizzed like arrows towards her two classmates across from her. merciless and endless like a swallowing abyss, she zeroed in on the traces of vibrant make-up decorating their skins. osamu nonchalantly munched on his food without a care, but rintarou knew the feeling of her gaze all too well.

he raised a brow at her as she muttered curses into atsumu's sleeve. "you're staring, [name]."

"i'm thinkin'."

"dangerous hobby."

"i know."

"please, proceed."

"harlequin."

rintarou blinked. "sorry, i didn't quite catch that, friend."

[name] pushed herself off atsumu. her neck popped when she rolled it to relieve it of any kinks. "in traditional pantomime, not whatcha did today, there's a mute character called harlequin."

"like… the villainess from batman?" ginjima mumbled—more to himself than to anyone else.

"yeah, like that. harley quinn's named after a harlequin. i think, i never fact-checked." her shoulders shrugged as she giggled to herself.

"moments like these make me wonder how your thought process works. if there is one."

"i'll take yer interest as a compliment." she flung a sweet smile at rintarou. her index finger hovered above his eyes. "thing is, ya still have some green eyeshadow on yer face."

"fucking dammit," he whispered out a curse, rubbing his knuckle blindly against his skin to get rid of the pigment.

[name] chuckled while rummaging through her bag. "i've make-up wipes." she used her fingers to reel him closer and he leaned over the table obediently. she worked gently on the corner of his eyes, holding his head in place with a soft grip on his cheek.

a muttered thanks tripped out of his tongue once she had finished. she let go of his face to throw him a thumbs-up. her eyes moved on to osamu as she offered to wipe his leftover make-up as well. he only shrugged and she repeated the same process.

rintarou couldn't help the way his nose scrunched up on its own, brows knitting together into a scowl. he pulled out his phone while [name] treated osamu with the same amount of care, never making any distinctions among her peers. his thumbs tapped away at his keyboard to search for the color she had gifted everyone at the table.

a shade of green, the color of his eyeshadow, the color of his jealousy. no, not that he was jealous, but green usually symbolizes jealousy and harlequin looked like a jealous color.

she hadn't quite finished wiping osamu's face when he turned his screen towards her. "is this the color?" he asked in a flat tone.

"oh, yeah, that one." her hands forgot all about osamu's make-up as she beamed at the image.

atsumu pushed [name] out of the way to peer at the color. his face contorted. "s'ugly as shit."

"s'a green screen." the twins' comments overlapped.

"didn't expect it to be green," ginjima added.

rintarou locked his phone and shoved it in his pocket. he pierced his eyes dead into [name]'s. "it's hideous."

an offended gasp escaped her. "it's not that bad, ya guys're just mean!" joyous cackles mixed together to relieve the pain on her legs from so much running. she kicked rintarou's shin under the table in a fit of giggles. he didn't hesitate to kick her back.

#is there color in your world?#Haikyuu #Suna Rintarou #Suna Rintarou x Reader #Suna x Reader #Haikyuu x Reader

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paper-pixies · 2 years

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Pestering you with ask game questions teehee!

8 for Mata-Shali, 32 for Ahad, 22 for Remy, and maybe a 23 for Opal if we’re feeling a little silly

Thank you for the ask game questions teehee! Deepest apologies that they took so long to be answered

8. A song that fits them, and do you think they would enjoy it? [Mata-shali]

Okay so I’ll admit that not once but twice did I read this question, listen to the entirety of my Mata-shali playlist, and then get distracted and forget to actually come back and answer it. It’s hard to pick just one since her playlist is one of the longest character playlists I’ve made (lots of brainrot for this girlie), but I think two that fit her experiences the best are Dig the Crazy - Faith Marie and In The Next Life - Kim Petras. As for whether or not Mata-shali would like them… she probably wouldn’t care much either way. She tends towards either very discordant “music” or folk dance music, and I doubt she’d really pay attention to either song enough to draw any sort of connection between herself and them.

32. Pet peeves? What's the one (or more) thing(s) that someone could do to instantly piss them off? [Ahad]

The real question is what doesn’t piss off Ahad honestly. He’s the grumpiest person you’ll ever meet in your life, so just about anything will get a glare or an annoyed sigh from him, but there are definitely some things that will instantly get under his skin. Any attempt to lecture him about his drinking or cut him off for the night will instantly have him pissed at you. Alcohol is the only semi-comfort this man has left and you better pray some other god helps you if you try and take it away from him. Another huge pet peeve is just. Any sort of PDA. Maybe a bit ironic given his history as a deity of love, but in recent years he’s come to absolutely despise seeing happy couples flaunting their relationships. He is… still extremely bitter after his own failed relationship.

22. Any embarrassing tattoo/scar stories? [Remy]

Every scar story is an embarrassing scar story for Remy! Or, they would be if he ever got embarrassed about them. They’re certainly always from some stupid stunt he pulled or fight he accidentally got into, but easily his dumbest scar is his missing finger on his right hand. I mean, in fairness to him the mafia that he was a part of is known for being extremely unforgiving of mistakes. And it’s really not his fault that the caravan of goods he was supposed to help protect was outnumbered and stopped by city guards on the way to one of the mafia safehouses. And sure, maybe Remy was supposed to pretend to be the only one who knew about the drugs and take the fall for it but he forgot and instead almost ratted out the leader of the caravan, so after they finally managed to escape the guards he ended up losing a finger as punishment. But easily the worst part is that it’s only after they had chopped off his finger that he realized they were a literal mafia group and he was a part of it.

23. The story they'd only tell when drunk off their ass? [Opal]

Opal would rather pick fights than swap stories while extremely drunk, but he’s definitely got some good ones if you can get him to focus enough to tell them!

Definitely one of the sillier (and more embarrassing) ones would be the time Opal [extremely drunk at the time] got extremely jealous and challenged Ace [also extremely drunk] to a fight for Jabari’s affection. Except Ace is too drunk to get through a proper incantation to cast anything more than a cantrip and Opal doesn’t have his arcane focus on him, so the two spend several minutes unsuccessfully “fighting” (aka insulting each other and making an occasional grab) before Ace finally manages to get one of his fire-based spells off at the exact same time that Opal decides the only valid weapon nearby is a rather large bottle of alcohol. Long story short, Ace lights the bottle as it’s being thrown at them, which sprays flaming alcohol all over the place and nearly burns the entire tavern down. Jabari ends up dragging them both out after apologizing profusely to the owner for the idiocy of her two companions, both of whom have already been dating her for several months and had absolutely no need to compete in the first place.

#these were so silly and fun i appreciate them #i hope you find the story ones as silly as i do #ask game answered!#opal #remy #mata-shali #ahad

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bleachbleachbleach · 2 years

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I don't think modrn day Japan celebrates LNY but do you think soul society still does? It would make sense since half the ppl are old as balls and predate when japan stopped celebrating

恭禧發財! Thank you for this ask! <3333 I, uh. I answered it but I got distracted by calendars and Y2K and primordial ooze, so I’m just going to excerpt the 4th paragraph, since that’s the actually relevant Lunar New Years part! Clearly still in my Soi Fon era rn.

In the New Years episodes, Rukia et al suggest that shinigami New Years is very much an intentional borrow from the living realm, and considered as such. It’s also a fairly new one. If they’re so hyped about borrowing this new years, I imagine they probably also borrowed prior ones, and that during the relevant period, Lunar New Year got celebrated. But given their present zest for the Gregorian calendar—and the general lack of institutional memory around TBTP, which as far as shinigami lifespans go was not that long ago, and only like 30 years after the calendar switch—I feel like they probably nope’d right out of Lunar New Year and plum forgot about it. Or maybe it’s still a Soi Fon family tradition. Maybe Soi Fon doesn’t like cats because of Yoruichi—Yoruichi’s cat transformation is just one more reason for Soi Fon to like Yoruichi. She grew up on animal zodiac stories!

The rest is below the cut for posterity!

The calendar in Soul Society is so interesting to me, because like… I’m going to start somewhere calendar-adjacent, but I guess one day several hundred years ago Yamamoto decided that architecture/clothing had peaked and he decreed they were just going to stay in their Edo vibes from then on—even though like, clearly even the "modern" Soul Society/Seireitei predates Edo by quite a bit, so it must all have looked very different for most of its history, unless the shinigami actually invented this styling independently. It also wasn’t a hard stop, because some places have Western furniture and they print a reasonably contemporary-looking magazine and the 2nd has heated floors. (BUT THERE’S NO CAKE.)

They seem incredibly committed to the Gregorian calendar, and making sure their calendar syncs with the Living World’s calendar—or at least, any time stuff gets skewy in the dangai, someone pitches a fit. And I get why they would feel like that was important, wanting to keep track of their deployed units and all. Lolllll, man, you know how most of the reports are handwritten? I bet it’s only half out of tradition and the other half is out of a fear that they will Y2K themselves into oblivion by accident; and they should be rightly concerned, because that seems like something they would do. (The 12th has all those mainframes because they do not share this fear.) This is probably also why denreishiki (or the model that Rukia got) can print things. Every time Hitsugaya texts a report there’s someone on the other end with a tiny printer gluing receipt tape into a scrapbook. Or maybe someone transcribing them by hand because denreishinki print with non-archival ink.

But this is getting away from me. I guess what I’m curious about is at what point shinigami began fashioning themselves after cultures in the living world. Did they pre-exist humans (in a different form), evolve with them, or did the notions of deity, death, and afterlife need to develop first? Do they have their own independently developed cultural forms or is it all/does it all have to be a riff off the world of the living? Is this something they have ever had (prior to Edo? prior to modern Soul Society?) Is the whole "we capture a Hollow in the realm of the living and then drag it back to Soul Society for part of a ritual that takes place 12 years after the death of a captain" thing a shinigami invention, or does that also have roots in older human practices (iomante?)?

In the New Years episodes, Rukia et al suggest that shinigami New Years is very much an intentional borrow from the living realm, and considered as such. It’s also a fairly new one. ("Fairly" here could mean anything from 150 to 15 years I guess, lol.) If they’re so hyped about borrowing this new years, I imagine they probably also borrowed prior ones, and that during the relevant period, Lunar New Year got celebrated. But given their present zest for the Gregorian calendar—and the general lack of institutional memory around TBTP, which as far as shinigami lifespans go was not that long ago, and only like 30 years after the calendar switch—I feel like they probably nope’d right out of Lunar New Year and plum forgot about it. Or maybe it’s still a Soi Fon family tradition. Maybe Soi Fon doesn’t like cats because of Yoruichi—Yoruichi’s cat transformation is just one more reason for Soi Fon to like Yoruichi. She grew up on animal zodiac stories!

Honestly, I’m just impressed that the old guard shinigami have managed to adapt to what was probably a good many calendars, one after the other and many simultaneous. Do you think that’s part of why Ukitake is so zeroed in on everyone’s birthdays? I mean, besides being a nice guy and wanting the Youth to feel some sense of celebration in the passage of time while it still holds meaning in their hearts lol. They’re also handy mnemonics! Because Ukitake would not give a shit about this newfangled calendar they’re using now, were it not for its utility in tracking the birthdays of all his lovely coworkers.

I think of Soul Society of being fairly sclerotic, but it’s super interesting the ways that this is paired with these punctuations of modernization fever? Or like, a desire to bring as much of the living realm into theirs as they can, even as these efforts are uneven and sometimes a bit odd. I think it goes back to this question of whether their realm predates humans on Earth (or in Japan), has always been concomitant, or proceeds from a human ability to conceive of an afterlife. I could honestly vibe with any of these.

Pre-dating humans on earth would be fun because you could lean into shinigami monstrosity and imagine how completely different they would have been without the blueprint of a human form, and before asauchi were even a glimmer in Nimaiya’s eye. That would also suggest that shinigami would have had to adopt this idea of being balancers and having anything to do with human souls, rather than being teleologically destined for this purpose.

Being twinned to the human realm would be fun because it plays up the notion of Soul Society as reflection.

And the third option of being tied not to human corporeality as distinct from the primordial ooze, but to a particular kind of human consciousness—well, that starts getting very esoteric (she says, as though the rest of this wasn't).

Anyway, the modernization fever is interesting re: these potential origin stories because of the way it indexes how important the living realm is to Soul Society—it’s perceived as some kind of backwater frontier, but also the location of the sublime.

** Please note that I’m sure there’s some kind of Soul King-related origin story upon which the entire plot of Bleach rests, but my brain actively flouts this knowledge. What is a Soul King, I don’t caaaare.

#asks #bleach worldbuilding #bleach sociology #there is no CAKE

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youknow-igetit · 3 years

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welcome to... another tiktok au because that apps controls my life but what’s new

- Kevin's verified and posts his exy highlights and his workout routines. Most of his comments are of people asking him to step on them

- Matt and Dan have a joint account and most of it is povs of them being accepting parents/being Very Attractive (think of the lesbian mob moms, the deity parents, and the cowboy dads). Most of their followers are queer teens

- Allison is one of the more chaotic posters, half of her posts are crazy storytimes and the other half is a mix of thirst traps and answering questions about her clothing company

- Renee posts mini tutorial videos about how to properly handle a knife, block and attack, etc. It's linked to her YouTube account, which is more in depth. she also has videos where she bakes bread and cookies like the cottagecore lesbian she is. Most of her comments are similar to Kevin's (especially in the breadmaking videos because... hh pretty woman strong arms)

- Neil is famous on plant tiktok, for many reasons, but mostly because he's attractive, he's queer, and he's funny (for a while his most liked tiktok was of him standing in his kitchen, holding one of those mini microphones and saying “my therapist said it would be good for me to get a pet but i’m not ready for that kind of commitment despite the fact that i’m married. so” *hauls in a very large ficus* “this is linda”)(it became his second liked tiktok after someone commented asking him if he would wear a maid outfit and cat ears and he was bored so he was like "fuck it: sure.")

- Nicky is living his best life. Most of his comments are people saying "it's hard to see someone else living your dreams" because all he does is post about his weird pets and his hot husband (he has 32 pets. Of those pets there are two dogs, three foxes, a sugar glider, and multiple snakes). Of the foxes, he has the most followers and got verified first

- Aaron's is strange in the sense that he answers a lot of questions on science and stuff, but he also posts thirst traps sometimes, which get millions of likes. He's verified and he has more followers than Kevin and Kevin's kinda bitter about it. (he’s like the sexy young adult version of hank green)

- Andrews is by far the most chaotic. He got a lot of followers initially because of the video he posted where he was trying to befriend the possums in his yard at 3 am when it’s raining by offering them cheerios and singing wap but replacing the word “pussy” with “possum” (most of his comment are " everyone: 'did you see that new dance?' my fyp:")

- despite their vastly different content, most people who follow Andrew also follow Aaron. one could be scrolling through their for you page and find a video of Aaron explaining cloning and then scroll down and find Andrew interviewing his cat about climate change

“what do you think about climate change”

*silence, because it is a cat*

“really? no comment?”

*a mrrp, a tiny meow mayhaps*

“are you trying to get me canceled or something? those are not the views i have been teaching you, young lady”

- Andrew: “i currently live in a long-distance relationship with my husband because of our jobs and contracts and such, and i miss him quite a lot, but i can’t see him, so i bought sixteen three-wick candles from bath and body works. they were having a sale.”

- andrew also has a lot of videos that look like they were taken at three am either in a forest or in a bathroom with the lights turned off

- andrew and neil still have their weird rivalry thing on twitter, so after they make a video together about neil finally moving in, all of the comments are like “i thought you guys hated each other???”, so they make a response video that’s just “oh no, i’m married to this asshole” and half of the comments are “!!!>??!” wheras the other half is like “i mcfuckin knew it”

- all of the foxes post at least one video when they’re all together for the winter holidays and all of the comments are like “the most daring collab ever” and they’re just like “nah bro, this is just christmas”

- there's multiple videos on multiple accounts of the foxes (minus aaron and nicky) all hiking in the middle of the woods, but for some reason it's at night and very very cursed (similar to Andrew's own content)

"how much do you bet me that I can't jump off this cliff" "fucking ZERO"

"theoretically, I could run off and live in the forest like a bog witch" "but you wouldn't have internet connection" "fuck. Nevermind"

neil jumps down from a tree out of nowhere and scares the shit out of everyone

“okay so we’re kinda lost but neil claims he can read the stars or some shit so”

“okay so we lost neil”

"I swear this is going to be a story from the magnus archive dude, like I'm pretty sure that one of us is going to be kidnapped by a supernatural being"

(they didn't end up being kidnapped. They'd been roaming the same three hundred yards of trees for two hours because they're idiots)

- most of allison, dan, matt, andrew, and neil’s followers don’t even know that they play exy (I didn't say Kevin because: duh). they post fun traveling videos for the olympics and the comments are like “lucky!!! i wish i could watch the olympics in person” and they’re like “no, i don’t think you understand, we’re playing in the olympics” and everyone’s like “w h a t”

- alternatively, followers are watching the olympics and finding the funky gay tiktok people on the exy court and are very very confused

(also i forgot to mention this earlier but all of them caption every single one of their videos) (also none of them can be found on straight tiktok)

#love is stored in the tiktok au #andreil #aftg hc #andreil hc #dan wilds #kevin day #andrew minyard #matt boyd #aaron minyard #allison reynolds #nicky hemmick #renee walker #neil josten #matt boyd x dan wilds #Also I mentioned the magnus archives please dont talk to me about it I'm still on season one

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kadwrites · 4 years

Text

a little tipsy | T.S

summary; the reader always gets in trouble when she gets tipsy but this time , she was lucky.

warning; its a fluff, maybe tommy is out of character ? idk and maybe some grammar mistakes , I literally wrote this while i was in class so there is that

word count; 1507

author’s note; nursing school is sort of stressful and I seem to only write when im stressed so.. ,btw I wrote this for @captivatedbycillianmurphy i feel like i owe them, I hope you guys like it! please tell me what you think of it.

she sat at the bar , watching her friends sing and dance while she drank her regular drink, these nights out were not her favorite but seeing her friends laugh made her feel happy. but the moment she saw him entering ,she lowered her gaze and faced forward.

she knew him , like everyone did , she works at a nearby bookstore and when she's done she comes here to help harry , her dad's friend. she would see him everyday but she never talked to him , she would try to pretend like he didn't exist, why? she doesn't even know.

the moment she's done , she'll just hurry to get out but today seemed like she is stuck ,its still early so her friends will refuse to go home and she has to stay and make sure they won't get in trouble.

"it's okay , he is just a guy." she whispered to her self , or so she thought

"yeah , I'm just a guy relax." he smirked and she felt as if her soul left her body.

he is way closer than she thought he was , she peaked slowly to find him still looking at her .

"I'm actually not that bad once you forget the whole gangster thing." he joked

"yeah, I bet." she said meekly, the words of her friend keeps echoing in her head.

"you have a crush on tommy !! aww , thats so cute.!"

"no , I don't " she said as she was organizing the books.

"you do , it's fine , it's natural" she sighed "he is very dreamy so no one blames you"

"no one will blame me because I have no feelings towards that man whatsoever."

"you said 'whatsoever' ,thats you shoving your tongue down his throat in your language"

"what's your name?" he asked

"y/n" she answered , she doesn't know why would he want to know , because honestly she isn't that interesting compared to , well , anyone.

she downed her third glass , she isn't drunk but she is more confident now, she thinks.

"your friends seem to be having fun, why aren't you with them?."

"your brothers are having fun too and I don't see you there."

he was somehow shocked but mostly amused

"you really don't want me around you."

she faced him "my mom really doesn't approve the fact that you exist but I don't mind"

"you work at the bookstore ,don't you?"

"I do"

"why?"

"not a lot of people go there."

"you work in a bookstore to avoid people?"

she nodded and downed her fourth glass , she is a bit tipsy.

"I wish it was this easy for me"

"with a face like yours ? I don't people would leave you alone"

he smiled " I hope that's a compliment "

"It is , your face is like drugs to women"

"your very honest"

"I'm tipsy"

"I like you better when you actually talk"

"I would've never talked to you without a bit of alcohol in my system"

"why is that?"

“take a wild guess” she says as she nods at the group of giggling girls that were obviously talking about him.

he chuckled at her , his smile growing “ I don’t see how that would be relevant”

“um , I feel like I might get stabbed if I talked to you” she glanced at the group of girls once more “ oh , if looks could kill”

he was laughing now , she watched and giggled to herself.

“I made him laugh!” she thought to herself and was feeling a ridiculous sense of pride .

she turned to look at her friends that she forgot about and she was shocked to see them gone except one who was about to leave

“pardon me , I need to do something” she walked away before he could even answer.

“sara , where are the rest ?” she said as she cursed herself for forgetting about them.

“oh , don’t worry! laura’s brother drove them home and I will be walking home” she patted y/n shoulder gently “ I am sober and my house is 5 minutes away , you can stay with your date” she said and wiggled her brows.

“fuck off” she smiled as she hugged her friend goodbye.

“you are an amazing friend , my own brothers wouldn’t be worried about me like that” he was standing behind her now.

she jumped at the wound of his voice “it seems to me as if your brothers are done with your shit”.

“they are” he smiled at her

“I am tipsy and my friends left so I should get going too” she said as she looked at her feet

“ can I walk you home?” he asked as he held the door open for her.

“I didn’t peg you as a gentleman , no offense”

“what? offense taken very personally”

“ I didn’t peg you as a dramatic person either” she giggled as he scoffed

he offered his arm as they walked , she gladly accepted.

“you are not as rude and cold as I thought you would be.” she admitted

“I am, you just are not someone I want to be rude and cold with” his voice was soft and warm , almost out of character.

“so , you are a bitch but not to me?”

“what can I say, it is a piety thing really , you break my heart.”

he threw his head back , laughing when she shoved him, he was back at her side in a few seconds , gently taking her hand in his. she felt as if god finally wanted her to be happy but then she looked up to see her house

“well , this is it,” she said , voice laced with disappointment

“goodnight,”

“you know , I do feel like I want to sober up a bit,” she was already walking past her house,

he smiled and just walked by her, a few minutes later they were back at her doorstep

“goodnight , thomas,”

“goodnight ,” he kissed the back of her hand, she just stared at his eyes for a few seconds smiling and then entering the house.

,in the following morning , y\n was regretting every decision she ever made , she didn’t even drink that much but her body hated her nonetheless .

she laid in her bed , holding the hand the tommy held yesterday and thinking of ways to keep her hands dry and how to never wash them again.

“good morning!” laura barged in y\n room as if it was her own, jumping on the bed beside her friend, y\n just groaned and tried to ignore laura’s existence.

“ I half expected to see a naked tommy deity in your bed.” she giggled

“keep praying , god might listen to you.”she was half asleep.

her moms yelling woke her up “darling! get up! there is a....guest waiting for you.”

the pausing made y\n open an eye and look at her friend , they both seemed to think the same thing

laura pulled y\n and pushed her into the bathroom

“change and freshen up , your mom never pauses so its either our sex deity or satan” she closed the door on her friend.

laura stood by the door and then helped her half asleep friend change and look somewhat alive.

“I swear if it isn’t him , I will murder you.”

“just thank me when he’ll get you a nice diamond ring” she told her friend as they walked down the stairs and into the living room. y/n was scoffing when the sight of tommy awkwardly sipping tea as your mom stared at him,

“oh, wonderful ! just make yourself at home dear , y/n be polite with your guest” her mom got up the moment that she walked in and just left the room with laura

“your mom doesn’t like me at all”

y\n smiled “why are you here ? not that I mind” she sat beside him on the sofa

“I wanted to check on you” he sipped the tea almost shyly.

“I am good , my head feels like it might explode but other than that I am peachy” she sighed

“ you weren’t even drunk” he looked at her ,

“I was drunk enough to get you to like me” she winked at him and he laughed

“are you still drunk?”

“I might be” she shrugged and he smiled , again.

“I will take you out on a date tonight” he demanded

“you know , gentlemen ask for things like dates” she raised a brow

“fine” he cleared his throat “would you like to go on a date with me?”

“I would love to go out with you , thomas” she smiled , then she leaned and gave him a very gentle kiss on his cheek

thomas is not a soft person, but the moment that her lips touched his cheek , he felt himself melt and he doesn’t mind that at all.

#kadwrites #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby imagine

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misscorn · 3 years

Text

Day 5: Roleswap/Formal

This @takaritsuweek prompt inspired me to do something I've been putting off for years: a rewrite of my fic Stalker-Senpai. So, please enjoy the first chapter :D its pretty much the same except third person now lol, we'll see how much I change in the future!

***

It was such a stupid reason to fall in love with someone.

Onodera Ritsu had been struggling to reach a high up book on a shelf, wobbling slightly on his tiptoes for a few brief moments before Saga Masamune decided to intervene, mostly just because something about watching the underclassman struggle was both sad and annoying. The older teen grabbed the book for Ritsu, handing it over with a blank expression.

Ritsu returned the simple, polite gesture with such a wide and sincere smile that Masamune's heart reached incredible speeds that he didn't know were possible. Why is he looking at me like that? Masamune wondered, shifting from one foot to the other, feeling warm from Ritsu's gaze.

Masamune swallowed hard as Ritsu took the book out of his hands and said an enthusiastic thank you, one that was way too cheerful considering all Masamune had done was reach up and grab something. The older boy couldn't help but to notice Ritsu's cheeks were a little red from what he assumed was embarrassment and Masamune suddenly wished to see that adorable expression every day.

God, what am I thinking? Adorable? He's a guy, Masamune hoped none of his thoughts were showing on his face. Apparently they weren't since Ritsu gave a quick and polite nod before scampering off. Masamune found his eyes following the underclassman and his feet almost followed as well. Almost. But Masamune somehow managed to hold on to a string of self control.

All he did was smile and say thank you, why am I acting like such an idiot? I don't even know his name, Masamune silently scolded himself. It was too late, though. Masamune was already on his way to become a hopeless, lovelorn fool.

It didn't take long for Masamune to notice that Ritsu was in the library as often as he was after their minuscule interaction. It was like Ritsu had suddenly appeared and was now here everyday. Not that Masamune was complaining; he found the underclassman's constant presence very comforting.

He reads a new book almost every day. Either he has a short attention span or a lot of time on his hands, Masamune noted. It was quite difficult to keep up with Ritsu's appetite for literature, though Masamune did his best. I want to read all the books that he reads, Masamune thought as he grabbed a novel Ritsu had recently finished. The older teen was hoping that he could use this as a way to get to know Ritsu better. Masamune was particularly ecstatic to learn from his book-stalking that his Kouhai's name was Onodera Ritsu.

The two of them always sat at different tables, but Masamune made sure to keep Ritsu in his sights. Masamune loved seeing the brunette's reactions to what he was reading. At times Masamune would hear a small chuckle leave Ritsu or see Ritsu purse his lips in thought or even see Ritsu rub at his eyes insistently to hide the fact that he was tearing up. I want to know what he's reading, Masamune would think desperately before he was able to get his hands on the book, I want to know what makes him smile and laugh, I want to be the one who makes him smile and laugh. Masamune felt positively pathetic with this train of thought, but he couldn't help himself.

Yes, it was official: Saga Masamune was in love at fifteen years old. He didn't understand how it happened so fast nor did he fully understand why, but he had enough self awareness to realize he was totally whipped for an underclassman who he hadn't even said a single word to.

That was precisely Masamune's problem; talking with people wasn't exactly his forte and he feared that he would somehow scare Ritsu off if he approached him. Not to mention, this feeling of want, this inexplicable desire to hold someone through the night and into the day, this need of seeing someone's face just to feel at ease, all of it was new to Masamune. It was scary to be so enraptured in someone. It was terrifying to know that someone else had so much power over him, power that Ritsu didn't even know he had. If Masamune confessed his feelings, he'd be freely handing that power over and Masamune didn't know if he was even capable of being vulnerable and trusting like that.

It didn't help that watching Ritsu from afar suddenly wasn't entertaining enough for the cruel deity laughing at Masamune's hopelessness. What other possible explanation was there for their paths crossing once again? He had peacefully watched Ritsu and stalked his library cards for three years, but now those days were seemingly over.

Masamune was reaching toward a book when a smaller, more delicate hand came into contact with his. Masamune looked over, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of Ritsu. Ritsu was quick to rip his hand away and met Masamune's eyes with an anxious gaze. Ritsu opened his mouth, looking like he was about to apologize for nothing.

"You can take the book, Onodera." Masamune said quickly before he could speak, not enjoying the sight of Ritsu appearing so guilty and worried. He wanted to alleviate the anxieties clear on Ritsu's face, but he seemed to only make it worse.

"How do you know my name?" Came the quiet, nervous response. The book was quickly forgotten by them both. Masamune felt like he was short-circuiting as he wracked his brain for any possible excuse or lie, but his mouth started moving without his permission.

"I love you."

What?

What the hell did I just say?!

There was a pause between the two of them, the air around Masamune feeling as if it were crushing his bones.

"...eh? Eh?!" Ritsu's face flushed a beautiful shade of red, but Masamune didn't have the time to admire it because he was desperately trying to think of a way to prevent Ritsu from sprinting away.

"What I meant to say was-well-would you want to go out with me sometime?" Masamune asked, watching Ritsu's surprised, flustered expression closely. The brunette shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, as he opened and closed his mouth, grasping at straws for a response.

"Y-Y-You know I-I'm a guy r-right?" Ritsu finally settled on after a few seconds of awkward silence.

Masamune almost wanted to laugh. Out of all the things Ritsu could've said, that was what he decided on? Masamune's lips quirked up ever so slightly in amusement as he started to find it a little easier to breathe.

"Yeah, I'm aware." Masamune replied dryly. "Does it bother you that I'm a guy?" That had been one of the reasons Masamune had been so hesitant to approach. It was possible that Ritsu wasn't even into guys and now maybe the two of them didn't even have a chance of being friends.

"I-no! Not really? I don't-" Ritsu inched closer and closer to retreating, which simply wouldn't do.

"It's alright, Just take a breath, okay? You don't have to say yes." Masamune quickly assured him, though I really, really want him to say yes, Masamune hoped it didn't show.

"I-I don't even k-know your name..." Ritsu started, seeming to try to find some sort of excuse, perhaps wanting to spare Masamune's feelings instead of outright rejecting him. However, Masamune's heart was stubborn and dead set on Ritsu. He wouldn't be dissuaded easily and not knowing his name was an easy fix.

"It's Saga. Saga Masamune."

Ritsu nodded slowly, visibly swallowing as he wrung his hands, seeming to be carefully considering his next few words.

"O-O-Okay...I-I'll go out with you...Saga Senpai..."

When an upperclassman grabbed a book for Ritsu and handed it over he was grateful for a few seconds, but forgot about the interaction quickly. It had been nothing particularly special after all. If there was anything he did remember from the brief conversation-if one could even call it that-it was that he felt terribly embarrassed for being too short to reach a book. And then a certain name started to pop up everywhere...

Ritsu scanned the shelves for a new read, not looking for anything in particular, just something unfamiliar and fresh. He started to reach for one when a larger hand met his and he instinctively recoiled away from the touch as if it had burned him. He looked over to see an older student that was often slinking around the library, somehow always seeming to have a certain aura of sadness around him.

"You can take the book, Onodera." He told Ritsu quickly, his expression blank and unreadable.

"How do you know my name?" Ritsu asked hesitantly, though he already knew the answer. This is my stalker. Saga Masamune, Ritsu felt nervous now that he was face to face with him. Ritsu had been ignoring the behavior for the longest time, three years in fact, but now his stalker was right in front of him.

Ritsu often liked to reread books that he particularly connected with and it didn't take long for him to realize a certain name kept appearing and reappearing underneath his own.

Saga Masamune.

Ritsu didn't know anything about this 'Saga' person. He was far too shy to ever venture out to try to talk to many people, especially an upperclassman. He was still young and fresh enough to high school to think that upperclassmen were untouchable Gods. Though, after noticing the name he also noticed that a certain upperclassman was constantly in the library: the one that had helped Ritsu grab a book. Ritsu decided he was as good as a suspect as anyone to be his stalker. It wasn't like many other students spent hours upon hours in the school's library. To confirm his suspicion, Ritsu once quietly walked up to his table when he had fallen asleep sitting up and took the opportunity to look in the back of his book. There was his name: Saga Masamune. The upperclassman shifted and Ritsu took that as his que to quickly put the book back down and retreat.

Ritsu tried to ignore it, not understanding Masamune's motives or actions and wondering if perhaps he was looking a little too much into it. That was, until the two had bumped into each other again.

"I love you." Masamune said.

Ritsu's heart punched the inside of his rib cage before beating erratically in all directions. A confession had been about the last thing he was expecting.

"...eh? Eh?!" Is all Ritsu could choke out in response with his legs feeling weak yet also prepared to sprint a mile if necessary.

"What I meant to say was-well-would you want to go out with me sometime?" Masamune asked, but Ritsu's confusion didn't cease.

"Y-Y-You know I-I'm a guy r-right?" That question sounded much dumber out loud than it did in my head, Ritsu thought as he refrained from facepalming. Masamune smirked a bit at his question and Ritsu tried not to frown, feeling like he was being made fun of and this confession had perhaps been a joke of some sort to mess with him.

"Yeah, I'm aware. Does it bother you that I'm a guy?"

Ritsu struggled to swallow as he started to shake his head. "I-no! Not really? I don't-" He wanted to hide behind the bookshelves at this point and forget this entire conversation.

"It's alright, Just take a breath, okay? You don't have to say yes."

"I-I don't even k-know your name..." Ritsu lied, wanting to somehow escape this situation.

"It's Saga. Saga Masamune." He replied smoothly. The upperclassman obviously didn't see their lack of knowledge of one another as an issue and suddenly Ritsu was out of excuses.

I should say I don't like guys, or that not interested, or that I have a girlfriend, Ritsu thought, but instead he just gulped nervously and nodded slowly.

"O-O-Okay...I-I'll go out with you...Saga Senpai..."

Why did I say that, why did I agree to this, what am I going to do now, oh God, I bet this really is just a joke and he's going to start laughing at me now, if my parents find out about this I'm completely done for-, Ritsu's panicked thoughts continued to race, but stopped once a gentle hand reached up to ruffle his hair.

And that was how the wonderful, complicated mess of their relationship started.

#onodera ritsu #saga masamune #sekaiichi hatsukoi #takaritsuweek #fanfiction

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yandere-daydreams · 4 years

Note

Can I have something involving apollo having a darling that wanted to be monogamous?

While I hesitate to involve myself in anything that involves monogamy, I do love watching our second favorite Sun God struggle to compromise. It’s fitting, for someone as… /generous/ as Apollo.

Title: Divided Attention.

TW: Implied Kidnapping and Emotional Manipulation.

You learned quickly that Apollo was a man of great extravagance.

You’d always known it, really. Even when you were simply a bystander to the antics of his cult, you didn’t have to travel far to find one of his gold-plated temples, his altars always decorated with the rarest of flowers and his sacrifices more akin to feasts than the sparse, sparable scraps other deities required. You had no great desire to participate in his theatrics, not beyond an annual festival or two tradition demanded you attend. It had been no surprise that, when you were whisked away to a palace closer to the sun than any other, there were dozens of guests who’d received their invitation long before Apollo had thought to send yours. Every room was full, every conversation shouted, and you didn’t care for it. You loathed it, some days.

Almost as much as you loathed the God who brought you here.

You were the newest toy in an overflowing collection. Countless eyes, all young and clouded, watched your every move, appraising your value as they parted to either side and made a path down the center of the massive, blinding throne room that occupied the majority of Apollo’s domain. You did your best not to be intimidated by it, keeping your eyes on the creature you were being directed towards, a man too tall and much too happy to see you. Promptly, you decided it actually was not a good idea to look at him, and instead directed your attention towards the velvet carpet guiding your advances.

Alas, avoidance wasn’t a sustainable method. As you came to a stop in front of him, you moved to kneel, but a strong arm was quick to correct your posture, taking you by the midriff and lifting you onto Apollo’s lap unceremoniously. He nodded towards the amassed crowd, and without further argument, they blended back into one lingering, unattentive group, conversations picking up where they’d been cut off and activities proceeding as if they’d never been interrupted. You watched, for a moment, but another intrusion was quick to steal you away. You didn’t try to decide which disturbance was more unwelcomed.

“You haven’t changed,” He began, his hand coming up to cup your jaw before trailing towards your neck, a long, painted nail tapping twice against your chest. You knew what he was referring to without further explanation - he’d made his hatred for your drab, grey frock more than clear. You were given clothes, a wardrobe in every color of the natural world, but every piece was just as lavish as your surroundings. You’d forgone it without much thought. “I was excited to see you in attire more fitting of your beauty, you know. Is there something wrong with what I’ve provided?”

You were in a strange place and you weren’t allowed to go home. You were surrounded by people with dead eyes and silver tongues and none of them had any interest in befriending someone as separate as yourself. Apollo had stolen you and he wouldn’t give you back, and you resented him for it and everything else and a million other reasons you couldn’t name in polite company.

“They’re not my taste,” You answered, knowing better than to purposefully displease him. “I once heard Athena say a great mind needs no decoration.”

“And I once watched Athena start a dozen different wars over a single bronze breastplate she could never seem to get her hands on.” Despite the delight in his tone, he was quick to let out a long, labored sigh, pulling you closer to his chest as he went on. “This is your home now, my love, do you understand that? I want your comfort, and if there’s anything I could do to gain your trust, all you need to do is say the word.” Once again, his fingers ran through your hair, tilting your head back and allowing him to capture your lips in a soft, fleeting kiss, romantic by intention and onesided by execution. You remained rigid, present only in a physical sense, but that was all Apollo required. He pulled away with a noise of contentment, if only to better stare you down with a gaze far too concentrated. Far too intense. “Your desires are my own.”

You could practically taste the opportunity. You didn’t allow yourself time to falter, you’d spent far too long waiting for an opening. “The only thing I desire is commitment, my lord.”

There was a pause. This time, Apollo couldn’t seem to summon an elegant rebuttal. “Commitment?”

“I do not wish to be a piece of a set.” It wasn’t a lie, just a truth out of context. You did not wish to be Apollo’s, alone or with company, and you knew he could never be satisfied with the lover he already had. It was an impossible bargain, and surely, it was a bargain he couldn’t risk accepting. “I am not a jewel to decorate your riches, and I refuse to be another facet of your ever-growing harem. Either send me away and be done with it, or prove that you’ll be loyal to me. I don’t want to be with someone who isn’t willing to make sacrifices in my name.”

There was silence. Rigid, frozen silence. You swallowed, and Apollo forgot to pretend he was human enough to blink.

Then, abruptly, he laughed.

“My stubborn disciple has no faith in me,” He chuckled, his voice completely and utterly rejuvenated. He held up an arm, beckoning his reluctant lovers forward and wordlessly calling them to gather, to be ready for his next demand. “You don’t think you’ll be cared for. You forget that everyone here shares in my love, and they’re just as prepared to distribute my affection as I am.” He paused, a hand coming to rest on your hip, squeezing playfully as he turned you on his knee, leaning forward just enough to let his grin press against your bare shoulder. “It’s my fault, really. I should’ve ensured that you received a proper welcome, but a delayed celebration will have to do. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive my negligence, my love.”

You moved to contest, to argue and tell him exactly what he could do with his negligence, but before you could speak, a woman’s hand had latched onto your ankle, a man’s wrapping around your wrist. They pulled, and willingly, Apollo let you fall into the mass, each and every one of its many occupants dead-set on contributing to something terrible. There were cheers, sounds of celebration and a few rough jostles to your form, but there was no changing their aims, escaping the fate you’d talked their deity into carrying out. And, as someone grabbed at your back, clawing until they’d torn through thin fabric, it dawned on you just how vile your fate was going to be.

Apollo was a being of indulgence, after all.

You weren’t sure why you expected his lovers to be any different.

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cjsinkythoughts · 3 years

Text

The Night Shift

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 4,189

Warnings: a few bad language words (sorry Stevie), fluff, I think that’s all

Summary: Your bad day turns worse when you're given the night shift at work. But you find it has more perks than you original thought.

A/N: Here it is! My first ever posted/published work! This is a bit new for me for quite a few reasons. 1. I usually write OCs. 2. I'm used to writing 3rd POV and past tense. 3. I like writing series and longer fics. 4k is actually pretty mild for me. Also, I'm planning on doing more first date fics with the Avengers, but we'll see if I keep up with that. Thank you and enjoy!

(Pictures not mine but collage is)

Today is not your favorite day. You woke up late, your laundry isn’t done because the machines were all being used when you tried, your roommate didn’t do the dishes so you had to do them before you left, your car broke down - meaning you had to take the Subway - and now you’re working an extra shift because your stupid coworker didn’t show up.

Who even comes in to get coffee at 9 at night? The sky is dark, the stars are out, and everyone should be getting ready for bed - including you. God. You love New York, but sometimes you wish the damn city would just go to sleep for once in it’s goddamn existence.

You’re practically asleep on your feet, getting ready to close in fifteen minutes, when the door opens, the little bell ringing in response. You rub your eyes and turn from where you’re wiping down the back counters to speak to the wackjob who wants coffee at this cursed hour.

You freeze, your eyes meeting stunning azures framed by dark lashes. Thick, soft, chocolate locks fall down past his ears and into those alluring eyes. Lips, perfectly pink and very tempting, pull up in a delicious smile. He’s got a jawline sharp as a knife, only accentuated by the dark scruff covering it. Jesus Christ this man is attractive. He’s also vaguely familiar…

He strolls up to the counter, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans that pulled taunt around his thick thighs. His shirt is pulled tightly across his shoulders, muscles flexing beneath the fabric, threatening to tear the material with every movement.

“Hello.” You thank whatever deity that might be out there that your voice doesn’t shake as you greet the gorgeous god of a man.

“Hi there, doll. Cody’s off today, huh?” Even his voice is breathtaking.

“Yeah. He didn’t show up. Is he a friend of yours?”

The man tilts his head in confusion, before his eyes light up realization. “Oh, no. No. I just come here a lot.”

“At nine at night?”

He shrugs, a small blush rising on his cheeks. “It’s the only time I get to myself really.” It clicks in your head who this man is when he raises his hand to rub the back of his neck. Black metal gleams in place of tanned skin.

“You’re Bucky Barnes!” You blink at him in disbelief. His hand quickly finds its way back to his pocket while he chuckles awkwardly. “Oh my god. I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you. You’re one of my favorite Avengers! After Black Widow, obviously, but-” You stop rambling, feeling heat rise to your face. “God, I’m tired. Uh, what can I get you?” You punch in the order that he gives you and look up shyly. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

He smirks and leans on the counter. “How about a name, darlin'? Yours, specifically.”

You roll your eyes, unable to contain the snort you give. “I’ll be right back with your order, sir.” You start making his drink, avoiding his eyes that you feel watching your every move. Usually you had another worker helping to make drinks, but since there’s only ten minutes until closing, you’re alone to close up the shop tonight.

You also usually only write on the cup when there’s more than one person, but you find yourself writing down your own name on his cup. It is part of his order, after all.

“Here you go.” You repeat his order, handing his cup to him.

He raises an amused eyebrow. “You forgot-” You interrupt him by clicking your tongue and turning the cup in his hands. He looks down at it curiously, before grinning and reading the ink out loud. The way your name falls off his lips has you holding in a shiver. “Thanks, sugar.” You watch him leave the shop, whistling a nameless tune, and wonder if Cody would mind switching shifts more.

Turns out, Cody had been arrested, so your boss had to hire a new kid who, because of school, couldn’t do the night shifts. Which meant your shifts changed. Not that you mind all that much; it gives you more chances to see Bucky.

When he said he comes in often, he wasn’t lying. Occasionally he stays while you clean and lock up and the two of you get lost in conversation under the city lights outside the shop. He usually orders and leaves with a witty comment and a wink, probably off to save the world from aliens or Nazis. He always orders the same thing, but he always asks for a little something extra, different every night.

“The usual?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Anything else?”

“Your phone number would be great.”

“I’ll get right on your drink, Buck.”

“Awesome. Can you add your favorite flowers to that, too? Thanks, sugar.”

“I’m gonna change it up today, dollface.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I’ll have the usual, but on the side I want to know what your favorite dessert is.”

He’s such a charmer. You aren’t sure if he’s just flirting or if he actually likes you. You think maybe he does that with every girl - waitresses, cashiers, secretaries - and he’s just being friendly. You’re sure after being stuck as a brainwashed assassin for nearly a century, flirting and cracking jokes with people makes him feel more normal. Still, you can’t help but wish that maybe the relationship you have now would become…more.

It’s not until he shows up a few weeks after your first meeting that you finally get an answer to whether or not he really likes you.

The bell rings, signifying a customer coming into the shop. You know it’s Bucky by the watch on your wrist; in the past few weeks of working the night shift, only one other person came in at nine o’clock.

“Good evening, beautiful.” A smile lifts the corners of your mouth at the familiar smooth voice that you could listen to all day. “Whatcha doin’ down there?”

You straighten up and look over the counter. “It’s called inventory. How’s your day been, Buckaroo?”

“Better now that I get to see your pretty face.”

You roll your eyes, face heating up and a small smile gracing your features. “Give me a minute and I’ll have your drink done. Anything extra?”

“This is a bit riskier than normal, but I’ve been wanting to try it for a while. Can I get your schedule?”

You raise an eyebrow in confusion as he smirks confidently. “My schedule?”

“Yeah. I just need to know something.”

“What would that be?”

“You free on Saturday, doll?”

* * * * * * * *

Saturday comes much too slowly for your liking, especially considering he asked you out only two days prior. He didn't tell you what you'd be doing today, so you decide on a casual sundress that you can play off as fancy if you need it to be. The color and style compliments you and your beautiful features perfectly and you can only hope he agrees. Your roommate assured you you looked gorgeous before going out with some of their other friends this morning.

You're just putting the finishing touches on your outfit for the day when a knock on your door sounds throughout your apartment. You check your watch: 10:30 on the dot. Just like he said. You get up too quickly, causing you to trip on your own feet and stumble - but luckily you catch yourself before you fall. Feeling simultaneously embarrassed and relieved he didn't see your clumsy actions, you head to open the door.

A bouquet of your favorite flowers appeared once you open the door, bright cerulean eyes shining at you from behind them. He grins, said eyes scanning your figure. "You look pretty as a picture, doll."

You duck your head bashfully, taking the flowers from him. "Thank you." You not so subtly check him out as you put the flowers in a vase. Like always, Bucky is absolutely stunning: his brown locks frame his face, falling into those mesmerizing blues, which are even more so due to the dark blue t-shirt under the light bIue jean jacket hugging his muscled torso. Dark jeans pull taunt across those thighs, his large hands in his pockets casually. You find yourself frowning when you notice his left hand is covered by a black glove. You want to say something, but decide against it, too anxious to ruin the date with this god of a man.

He clears his throat, which brings your gaze back to his face. You feel yourself heat up at the smirk on his perfectly pink lips. "Uh, I, um, so...what are we doing today?"

"I thought we could have some fun today, since all you ever seem to do is work."

"I don't always work." You quickly defend. He raises a disbelieving eyebrow, making you drop your head again. "Okay. Maybe I don't get out much."

He chuckles. "Good thing. That way I get you to myself." There's that smug smirk again. "As for what we're doing, that's for me to know and you to find out. I'd wear walking shoes if I were you, though."

You give him a curious look, moving over to grab your keys, phone, and wallet, before slipping on your sneakers. "I don't get a hint or anything?"

"And ruin the surprise? Where's the fun in that?" You giggle a bit as the two of you head out your door and down the hall. "I didn't know if you mind motorcycles, so I just borrowed Steve's car." He tells you in the elevator.

You talk about motorcycles and your opinion of them as you walk out your building and into the bright Spring sun. Your eyes widen at the nice Camaro parked in the street that he leads you to. "Wow."

"Yeah." Bucky nods in agreement. "Tony had it custom made for Steve for their anniversary a few months ago."

"And he's allowing you to use it?"

Bucky chuckles, running a hand through his hair as a pink tint dusts his cheeks. "'Allow' is a strong word."

You laugh as he opens the passenger door for you. You thank him, sliding onto the nice brown leather seat. "Does he even know you have it?"

He shrugs, shutting the door and leaning into the open window. "He'll find out soon, I'm sure."

Another laugh escapes you, a smile adorning his lips at the sound. He walks around the car, doing a hood slide to make you chortle again. While you two start driving, you try to convince him to give you a hint, but he's stubborn, denying you answers with that annoyingly charming smirk of his.

You recognize the direction you're going after a while and bounce in your seat as you arrive. "Coney Island?"

"I haven't been here since before the War and I've been meaning to come see how it's changed." He told you with a grin. "Who better to come check it out with than the pretty dame who serves me coffee at nine o'clock without complaining?"

Rolling your eyes to cover how much comments affect you, you smile teasingly in return. "Have you always been such a charmer, Barnes?"

He parks the car before shooting you a wink. "Only to angels, darlin', and you're the first one I've met so far."

You inwardly curse, hating how easily flustered you get around him. He gets out of the car and you're about to follow when he opens your door for you and offers his hand to you like the gentleman he is. You take it, enjoying the feeling of your smaller one against his rough calluses, and he helps you out of the car, shutting the door behind you.

"You ready to have the time of your life, dolIface?"

"As long as you get me a treat." You joke, linking your arm with the one he offers.

"Like I wasn't going to?" He scoffs back. "Who do you think l am, sugar? Now c'mon. Fun's awaitin'."

You laugh, letting him drag you around, loving the child-like wonder in his pretty eyes. Whether or not you enjoy roller coasters, you have a blast: playing carnival games, eating food you both know is terrible for you, but tastes oh so good, and people watching the interesting crowds, all while teasing and playing around with each other. There's nothing better you can think of to do with your free day than goof off with Bucky, no stress or worries plaguing your mind like usual. He even wins you multiple adorable plushies! Being a super soldier wasn't just good for saving the world, evidently.

It was while you're eating lunch that you ask Bucky why he's wearing a glove. "I've already seen your arm. I don't mind."

He hesitates, opening his mouth before licking his lips nervously. "It's not...I know you don't. I just don't...I dunno. I don't wanna freak anyone out."

You frown and put down your food, leaning forwards on your elbows. "First off, I think you're an amazing person. Just throwing that out there. Second, I don't think anyone will mind. You're a hero. An Avenger. Basically a celebrity with a badass arm. And, finally, if anyone does say anything, I'll tell them off. Easy peasy."

He snorts at that, before looking at his gloved hand warily. You reach across the table to give both his hands a squeeze. He meets your eyes and you grin reassuringly back. "If you're not comfortable, that's okay. Just know that other people should never be the reason to hide yourself. Trust me."

"I do." He says genuinely. You give him a questioning look, playing with the tips of his gloved fingers. At his nod, you slowly start taking his glove off, giving him time to say no. He doesn't, letting you tug it all the way off. He blushes when you lift the smooth metal to your lips.

"So, what's next? Wanna win me one of those monkeys with the velcro hands?" He chuckles at your question, telling you he'd win you all of them if you asked. You giggle, tightening your hold on his hand and, after finishing the last bite of food, pulling him to the booth with the monkey prizes.

When it starts getting dark, Bucky convinces you to go on the Ferris Wheel with him, promising to hold your hand the whole time if you're scared of heights (even though you haven't let go of his hand or arm since lunch). It's one of the most stunning scenes you've ever seen. The sun is just barely peeking over the horizon, a few stars dotting the darkened sky, a rare sight living in New York City. The aforementioned city's lights were turning on, causing the skyline to glow brightly. It's hard to think of anything bad about NYC when she looks like that.

"Wow. " You breath, enchanted by the city you've grown to love as home. "There's something almost...magical about it, don't you think?" You turn to Bucky, still captivated by the view, expecting him to be the same. After all, New York has been his home for over a century and so much has changed. Instead, you find him intently watching you, a small, adoring smile etched on his features. You smile shyly, unable to keep his gaze while he's looking at you like that - like you're the most enthralling thing he's seen, bewitching his heart and soul, even with the magnificent picture before you.

"Yeah...there is." He agrees, grabbing your chin between his left thumb and pointer finger gently, making your eyes meet. His right arm is around your shoulders, pulling you into his warm chest, heating you up from the chill the night is bringing.

Your heart drums hard against your ribs when he glances at your lips and you're sure he could hear it, even without his enhanced hearing. Your eyes lock onto his lips as his tongue darts out to wet them. You're suddenly so much closer, his right hand holding the back of your neck delicately while his left cups the side of your jaw. Your hands are gripping his jacket, noses brushing.

"Can I kiss you?" His voice comes out low and raspy.

"If you didn't, I'd probably smack you."

You feel his deep chuckle reverberate through his chest, which you just notice is pressed solidly against yours. Before you can process anything, his lips are slanted over yours. They're softer than you originally thought and they move expertly against yours. It surprises you, before you remember he's technically over a century old, so of course he has experience.

The kiss is over before you want it to be, but the need for oxygen gets too much and your lungs start to sting, so you pull back reluctantly, your hands now in his hair while he's holding your face tenderly.

"Speaking of magic."

You laugh, rolling your eyes as the Ferris Wheel starts turning again. "Who knew Bucky Barnes is such a sap?"

He smirks, leaning forwards to peck your Iips a couple times. "I prefer the term 'romantic'."

Once you get off, you hold onto his elbow, leaning against his shoulder. "Thank you for bringing me, Buck. I really enjoyed today."

"Well that's good considering we're not done."

Your eyebrows shoot up. "Wait, what?"

Bucky scoffs in amusement. "You didn't think that was all, didya, doll? The day's not over; the night's still young!" His right arm slings around your shoulders, pulling you close and kissing your head.

"Okay. What's next?" You ask curiously. He raises an eyebrow, a smirk on those delicious lips. "Another surprise?"

"Hope you're hungry, sweetheart."

"Dinner?"

Giving you a charming grin, he leads you back to the car. "Guess you'll have to wait 'n see, darlin’."

* * * * * * * *

"Buck.” You groan, toeing the ground nervously. The blindfold covering your eyes was keeping you from seeing anything and, to your embarrassment, you've already tripped more times than you care to admit. “Where are we? l feel like we've been walking forever. Can I take this stupid thing off yet?”

Bucky chuckles softly in your ear, holding you steady as you walk on the uneven surface beneath your feet. “We’re almost there, doll. I promise."

Letting out a huff, you let him lead you further along. Finally, after what feels like hours, though you know you're being dramatic and haven't been walking that long, he stops. "Stay right here," he mumbles, his hands that were on your shoulders leaving, along with his warmth behind you, with a kiss to your cheek.

"Haha. You're so funny."

A couple snickers leave his lips and you can just imagine the smile no doubt gracing his features - the one that crinkles the corners of his eyes adorably. You feel wind nip at your bare skin and shiver slightly, wondering where the hell you are.

"Okay. C'mere." His hands are on you again, the contrast of the two adding to the goosebumps the breeze was giving you. "Right here." You can practically feel his excitement and nerves as he positions you. "Alright. Ready?"

"As much as I'll ever be, I suppose."

His nimble fingers are suddenly at the edge of cloth covering your eyes, which he makes quick work of, tugging it off gently. "You can open your eyes, sugar." He chuckles, seeing your eyes tightly clenched shut. You do as he says and blink them open. The sight that meets you takes your breath away.

He brought you to a beach, which you had kind of already guessed due to the sad slipping through your shoes. In front of you, a blanket is spread out, being held at the corners by lanterns, which are connected by a string of fairy lights outlining the blanket. Pillows are scattered on the blanket, a picnic basket to the side while a single red rose is in a small vase in the center with rose petals surrounding the setup. He really is a romantic.

"Bucky. It's beautiful. When did you set this up?"

He rubs the back of his neck, turning red. You smile, enjoying the fact that you can make him just as flustered as he makes you. “Actually, the team helped me out a bit. It was originally just Natasha and Steve. But, uh, then Tony and Wanda found out and then...Sam."

You giggle, knowing his and Sam's brotherly relationship from previous conversation. "I bet he teased the shit out of you when he found out."

"Please," Bucky scoffs. "I'll be the butt of his jokes for at least a month. At least, this part of me will."

"Well, I love this side of you if that's worth anything."

He grins dashingly at you. "Then let the birdbrain tease, because that’s worth everything. Here." Taking your hand, he leads you over to the blanket and sits you down. "All those questions at the coffee shop and I never asked your favorite drink so I brought red, white, beer, Coke, Pepsi, root beer, and," he pulls out the last bottle he brought with a boyish smile. "Apple juice. There's water in 'ere too. And, o' course, the meal and the dessert, which I did ask about because I'm not a complete idiot."

Laughing, you can't help but pull him in for a kiss. "You're so cute."

He clears his throat, his face heating up while he rubs the back of his neck, tying his hair back in a knot. He hands out compliments like candy on Halloween but he can't take them to save his life. How adorable can one man be?

You two eat and talk about everything from hilarious childhood stories to what keeps you up at night. You love listening to his fascinating tales of playing through the 20s, scraping through the 30s, and fighting through the 40s. You especially love the way his face lights up when talking about his family, the Howling Commandos, and America's Golden Boy, both twink and tank stories.

After a couple hours, you find yourself wrapped in his warm jacket - which smelled amazing - leaning against him as he tells you about his new family. You sip on your preferred drink, your eyes fluttering shut, content to simply listen to his soothing voice talking about Clint and Scott's latest prank on Pietro.

"You tired, doll?" You hear him whisper tenderly, his arms around your waist while his thumbs run small circles on your sides.

You hum and look back at him over your shoulder. "Just feeling the moment." He smiles adoringly at you, kissing your temple.

"It's getting late anyways. We should get you home. Don't want your roommate worrying."

You scoff, but agree. You help him clean up and carry things to the car, despite his protests. You nearly fall asleep on the ride back, his big, warm hand resting comfortably on your thigh the whole way. He squeezes gently when you pull up to your building, murmuring lightly to wake you up.

Ever the gentleman, he walks you inside and helps you bring the armful of prizes he got you to your door. Once there, you unlock the door and lean against the frame, facing him.

"Thank you, James. As far as first dates go, this is by far the best one I've had."

He shoots you a smug grin. "Glad to hear that, beautiful. Does that mean if I asked for a second date you'd say yes?"

You give him a smirk back. "I'd say your chances are very good."

"And if asked for a goodnight kiss from the most gorgeous girl I've ever been blessed to be in the presence of?"

You giggle, ducking your head shyly. His hands grip your jaw, pulling your gaze back to him. He nudges your nose with his, whispering against your lips, "is that a yes?" AII you can think to do is nod. He smirks at your reaction, before he's pulling your lips against his. It's more passionate, less hesitant and experimental, than the few previous kisses you shared. He's angling your face to deepen the kiss, his hands tangle in your hair and his tongue prods your lips open, swallowing the little whimper you let out.

When you pull back, you're breathless, panting against his open month. "You workin' tomorrow, darlin'?" He rasps out.

"No." You try to collect yourself enough to answer, although it's hard with all your nerves on fire, his scent fogging up your brain. You manage to move your heavy tongue enough to say, "I have the weekend off."

A broad grin lights up his pretty face. "Great. I'll be over at nine. Have a nice night, sweetheart."

You nod, an airy "goodnight" leaving your lips. You watch him walk off, a pep in his step and his lips turned up. You lean back against your door, hugging all your new plushies to your chest, still wrapped up in his jacket, and let out a sigh.

You'll have to go visit Cody and thank him. After all, that dreadful night shift gave you the best day of your Iife.

#cjsinkythoughts #cjswriting #first written work #first published work #marvel #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #please excuse any mistakes #thanks for reading!#first dates w/ avengers #💙🦾

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celestialices · 3 years

Text

QUEST!

Greek Mythology x Haikyuu

Haikyuu!Ensemble x Reader

Summary: You were just a perfectly normal student at The University of Tokyo, when suddenly a bunch of 'normal boys', as they call themselves, appeared in your life and started to squeeze themselves into your life. Always saying something like "You're a goddess, we need to take you back to Olympus" (you brushed it off, saying that it was just a silly compliment) and even absurd sentences such as "You got Medusa's eyes" and "You're really Medusa's daughter!"

You really want a peaceful school year, but the universe beg to differ.

005: JOURNEY TO EARTH

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Kuroo could never get use to Underworld’s atmosphere. It is currently his second time visiting this week, it was unsettling. He never visits the Underworld unless it is need to, which is usually once a year. The air was rotten and stuffy, contrasting to Mt. Olympus’ refreshing winds, it makes it hard to breathe. The acid red-blooded lakes, tall trees without leaves hiding the eerie sinners, and nerve-racking animals who seems to watch his every step. It was a hair-raising place. Although Kuroo can’t lie, it is the perfect abode for evil-doers. “Where the... Where’s Suna?” Kuroo complains, he’s getting fidgety for standing in one place. Unlike the stares he gets in Mt. Olympus, he doesn’t enjoy this at all. It feels like they’ll eat him alive any time by now. “I’m here.” Suna appeared before his eyes, making Kuroo quiver in fear. Suna snickered, totally enjoying scaring deities off using his helm of invisibility. “Sorry, got caught up with Cerberus.” “It’s fine. Let’s go to Asami before we leave.” Kuroo suggested. Today was the day where they’ll descend on Earth. Everything feels rushed; they just started discussing this matter three days ago. Kuroo feels like they’re catching time, but he accepts the hurry, after all, Medusa’s daughter is dubbed to be a dangerous goddess. It took a lot of walking to get to Asami’s ‘prison.’ Oddly enough, it was not placed in Hades’ Palace, but next to Nyx’s cave. He doesn’t really understand why, but it’s probably for the better security, is it not? Nyx is one of the most powerful goddesses, Zeus even feared her himself. Because of her mysterious and dark aura, a lot see her as more of a villain frame than she ever seem to be. She is actually kind and loving, so Kuroo didn’t be inquisitive about it any longer. He sighs. My mind never got to relax in the past three days. As soon as they reached Asami’s (hopefully) temporary accommodation, Suna knocked at the door. Not even a minute passed, Nyx opened the door. It made the two stiffened, totally not expecting to face the goddess of night. “Visiting Asami?” Her voice is low and sinister, terrifying enough to make the two gods rethink their decisions and just run away. She glanced at Kuroo, who just sheepishly smiled at her. The two bowed, saying their greetings. Nyx is actually a respected goddess, a beautiful one, may I add. She made an impact to everyone, whether good or bad. “Come in, Asami would be happy to see you.” Nyx smiled and made a way for them to enter. “Thank you, Goddess Nyx.” Kuroo said, the amount of respect he has for her was immeasurable. Despite being portrayed as a dangerous goddess, it was all baseless rumors. If only she’d visit Mt. Olympus, maybe the deities impression of her would’ve been different.

“No worries. I thank you for visiting Asami. Poor girl, really.” She uttered, sorrow all over her voice. The two god could see the sincerity in her face. She really cares. “I’ll be going now. Pay her a visit whenever you please, Akagi will take you here.” “I could never get use to Nyx’s kindness.” Suna said shortly after Nyx left. Hearing made up stories about her since he was young took a toll on how he sees her, so when he really met her after straying away from Persephone, he was shocked.

“Yeah. She’s really kind-hearted.” Kuroo admiringly remarked. “Let’s go in, Asami is probably waiting for us.” Kuroo and Suna entered the dark and strange house, staring at each accessory displayed. Dead flowers in a vase, paintings of Cerberus, Nyx and the Underworld, and the pale walls were not helping. How could one live in this? “Tetsuro? Rintarou?” The two gods stopped in their tracks and stared at Asami before them. She actually looks good and healthy, a clear evidence that Nyx is taking good care of her. “Asami.” Suna called and stretched out his arms, asking for a hug. Asami sprinted into Suna’s arms, the tight hug made it evident on how they’ve missed each other. It’s been a rough week for the both of them, oh how they’re glad to see a familiar face again. “Thank you for visiting.” Asami expressed how happy she’s feeling with a smile. “Kuroo, you’re here again.” Beaming, she hugged Kuroo for a minute, already missed his presence despite the fact that they saw each other yesterday. “We’re just here to say that..” Kuroo hesitated for a bit, unable to find the right words in such manner where Asami won’t get hurt or worried. “We’re leaving today, after we visit you.” Silence. “Oh.” Asami couldn’t hide her disappointment, but it was for the best. Finding the real daughter of her mother.. of Medusa was the top priority. She should still feel glad that they made time for all. Even if she’s just a mere human with no connections to the deities at all. “Oh! I wish you the best of luck.” She says, genuinely Immediately sensing her dismay, Kuroo held her hand. “It’ll be better soon, Asami. Plus, I told Kenma and the others to visit you often, you won’t be lonely.” He assured her. “We’ll handle this quickly, Asami. Then you’ll be free to wander around Mt. Olympus again.” Suna added. At the end of the day, Asami is always their top priority. No goddess could absolutely replace her. “I promise we’ll be back as soon as possible,” Kuroo grinned, ruffling Asami’s shining hair in the process. “We’ll chat with you for a while before we leave. But first of all, are you doing well?” Asami giggled. “I’m doing great because of Nyx. How about the two of you? How is Mount Olympus? How’s my siblings? How’s.. Father?” She was dying to ask these questions, but restrained herself. “Mount Olympus is fine. The information of Medusa’s.. daughter on Earth is kept within the superior gods, and some of our friends. It’s better that way.” Kuroo answered. It’s supposed to be kept within the superior gods only, but the news spread like a wildfire, until Zeus stepped in. “Your family is good. Shimizu said she’ll make time to visit you soon.” He glanced at Suna, motioning for him to continue. “Iwaizumi is one of the deities to look for.. her.” Suna awkwardly mentioned, still not used to this whole ‘Asami-is-not-a-deity’ situation. “Kuroo, Suna. They’re already looking for you.” Nyx appeared out of the blue, startling the three of them. Seriously, what’s with the goddesses appearing out of nowhere? “My apologies for interrupting.” “No, not at all, Goddess Nyx.” Kuroo glimpsed at Asami before sighing. “Thank you for informing us. Suna, we better go.” Suna only nodded, embracing Asami for the last time. “Take good care of yourself.” They started walking towards the door, when Asami suddenly spoke. “If you ever find her...”

Kuroo and Suna looked at her with curious eyes, waiting for her to continue. “Take good care of her, okay?” Iwaizumi never felt more uneasy in his whole life. Kuroo and Suna returned from the Underworld a few moments ago, and after what Asami just said? It was upsetting. Asami doesn’t deserve the treatment she’s getting right now. “She’ll be okay.” Oikawa whispered to Iwaizumi. He knows empty words like “she’ll be fine” will not help at all, but at times like this, no one can ever be too sure. “Come on, we all know Asami.” This at least made Iwaizumi feel a bit better. “I know.” Iwaizumi answered, feeling a bit bummed out that he pitied Asami for a moment. Out of all deities, he should’ve been the first to know that she’s a strong girl. “The Olympians will arrive soon. We better prepare ourselves.” Kita announced, loud enough to let the other eleven hear. Everyone has been anxious for the past week, all because of the Medusa’s daughter issue. Especially the Twelve Greek Gods who were assigned to find the wanted goddess who’s currently living on Earth. The wanted goddess who is either aware of who she is or has been raised as a human all her life. A goddess who might probably surpass Zeus’ powers with her ability to stay hidden. Everybody is afraid, no one can tell how things will turn out. “They’re here.” Suna sensed the immense ambience coming from the Olympians behind doors. It was powerful, so much energy gathered in one place that could destroy the human world. The Olympians entered the chambers, all in their glory. Zeus with Hera beside him lead the group, making their way to the long table prepared for them. Their slow walking, in all probability that they’re thinking this as a red carpet, only caused distressed to the other deities present. After what felt like a whole year, the Olympians finally made their way to their assigned chairs. Their chosen representatives stood before them, just like how they’re asked to. The only ones without someone behind them was Artemis. “Just as planned, what we discussed a few days ago will immediately relied to Sakusa Kiyoomi.” Athena started, a chorus of ‘yes’ was followed. “Do your best, gods. Earth is placed into your hands.” “Make sure to take care of yourselves.” Hestia worriedly said. “Kunimi, come back right away if something that’s out of your hands happens. I’ll be with you right away.” The representatives’ hearts warmed because of what Hestia said. She truly lives up to her name. “I forgot to mention.” All eyes were pierced to Zeus in a second. “The deity who’ll get her back here first will be rewarded.” The representatives frowned. “A.. reward?” Kageyama Tobio, the representative of Aphrodite, asked. He’s unsure if he had heard it right, actually everyone is. He’s a brave soul for asking on behalf of them. Rewards were uncommon for deities, they’re the ones who usually gives rewards to humans. So hearing that is a bit.. “Yes, a reward.” Zeus repeated himself. “I will tell you once things settle down. For now, focus on your quest.” He reminded. His voice was clear and authoritative, it sent shivers to Kageyama’s spine. Hades (replaced Hephaestus since the god didn’t send any) peeked at his son, both of them sharing a knowing glance at each other. Hades nodded at him before looking away. Even though he, too, doesn’t know what reward Zeus was talking about, he still wants Suna to win it. As long as Suna wins, he’ll be happy. “As expected, my son, Kuroo, will take the lead.” Hera declared. No one really wants to go against her, so her companions stayed silent, letting her do what she wants. “Shouldn’t we.. leave now?” Sugawara murmured to Akaashi who has beside him. Every time the Olympians gather was like stepping into Underworld. It is extremely suffocating. Akaashi looked like he was uncomfortable too. He slowly leaned to Ares’ ear, “Father, you should suggest that we leave now if they want to find her sooner.” He reasoned, hopefully it’ll work on Ares. Ares cleared his throat after Akaashi finished what he was saying. “My incredibly smart son wants to leave now so the search would be done in a heartbeat.” Ares boasted. Akaashi internally screamed, embarrassed by his father’s actions. “I suppose you’re right, Keiji.” Aphrodite replied. “Go on now. Kunimi, do your thing.” She added, referring to the portal Kunimi will create in order to get to Earth. Hermes could do it too, but they agreed to let Kunimi practice his abilities. Kunimi Akira stepped forward, claiming the center. He closed his eyes for better concentration, and slowly moved his hand in a circle motion in order to start the portal. You already practiced this, Kunimi. Calm down. The blue circle Kunimi was creating gets bigger and bigger, a glimpse of trees is already showing. It is working! His concentration was broke for a bit, but immediately prioritized his attention to the portal he’s making. A few minutes passed before Kunimi completed making the portal, him sighing in both relief and satisfaction because of what he did. He’s already pretty good at this, he’ll ace it in no time. “Well, it’s time.” Poseidon announced. “Do well, chosen ones.” Each deity entered one by one, from Kunimi to the last one, Iwaizumi. He’s walking towards the portal but didn’t forget to give a glance to his father one last time. “I’ll bring her back.”

A/N: I just edited the previous chapters a while ago, but you don’t have to re-read it! I only added a few more sentences and details (that will be mentioned in the upcoming chapters) here and there, nothing important. Again, comments, notes, and reblogs are very much appreciated! It motivates me to know that you are enjoying my story :) Forgive me if there are typographical errors in this chapter. :3 Send an ask if you have any questions! I’d be happy to answer them. Thank you so much for reading! I hope everyone stays safe and stay healthy. Take care of yourselves <3

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threeletterslife · 4 years

Text

All You See is Blue

→ [3/7] of the Society Series

→ summary: It's true. The skies are so beautiful here when you look up, a vast expanse of cerulean blue stares right back at you. You're in paradise. Right?

→ pairing/rating: jungkook x reader | PG-13

→ genre: 100% soft angst (🥺✨but make it lowkey 💀🥀⛓) | prince jk!au

→ warnings: underage drinking, death, believing in multiple deities

→ wordcount: 9.2k

cr.

You sniffle.

You sniffle again.

You're about to sniffle a third time when your mother jerks her head towards you, shooting you an unappreciative look.

"But mother—"

"Hush, Y/N. The crops aren't going to harvest themselves," she retorts. "Stop sniffling. And stop daydreaming about the damn sky. You're becoming delusional."

"But mother," you insist. "Today's the Choosing Ceremony! I need to get cleaned and dressed. I'm filthy—"

"You will not be chosen." Your mother turns her back away from you, hunched over and tending to the sprouts that had somehow miraculously found purchase in the dry, dusty soil. "You were not chosen last year. Nor the year before that. Nor the year before that. I could continue on, child. You're 19, now. This year will do you no favor once again. Throw away your foolish high hopes, Y/N. The royal family will not look at you twice."

You grit your teeth, scrutinizing the dirt clinging to your only pair of shoes before scoffing out loud. "It's my last year to make an impression."

"Don't waste your time."

You throw down your basket, glaring at your mother's backside.

"Stop being such an ungrateful child," she says without turning around to face you. "Who will take care of the fields with me if you are chosen? You can miss the Choosing Ceremony. Would you want to abandon your family to live with the spoiled royals?"

Yes.

All your life, you've daydreamed about being admitted into royalty. To spend endless hours looking up at the beautiful blue skies of the blessed Cerulean Kingdom. To admire the dazzling fireworks in the night sky and the glamorous rooms of the castle. To feast on the towers and towers of bountiful food. You want to do whatever you want whenever you want.

To honor the villagers who work tirelessly in the fields, every year, the royal family takes in one lucky girl from ages 13 to 19 under their wing and lets them live lavishly for the rest of their life.

A lavish life is what suits you. You're no good at housework and just barely decent working in the fields. But you tend to daydream often, staring up at the alluring blue sky—before your mother scolds you for sticking your head up in the clouds, that is. You doubt you're helpful in the household. You might even be more helpful when you're gone.

If only your mother understands.

She won't be able to change your already made up mind.

"Mother, I'll help you later." You stretch your back, shading your eyes from the sun beating down upon you. You squint at your mother's hunched back in pity. Years and years ago, she hadn't been chosen in the Choosing Ceremony either—stood through seven ceremonies in silence, clapping bitterly when every year, a girl who wasn't her was chosen. She's still bitter about it. But she should just move on. Let you take one last chance. Shaking your head in dismay, you bite your lip. "Um, I'll be back in an hour."

"Y/N!"

You don't turn back as you run away from the fields. This is your last chance. And something about this year feels good. If you played your strings just right and caught the royal family's attention... then maybe... just maybe, you might become part royalty.

You'll never have to be covered in dirt. And you will have all the time in the world to admire the cerulean skies.

"The prince is coming this year!" the girls chortle giddily.

They're the fifteen-year-olds who hope to snag a chance in the ceremony. You are indifferent to them and their gossipy antics. But the rumor of Prince Jungkook coming does make you straighten your back and stand in your best posture. It's not often the prince comes out in public—his parents raise him as if he is a fragile diamond. Prince Jungkook is their only child, after all. To be frank, you don't think you've ever seen him before in person. But you've heard of him and his devilishly handsome looks.

The easy key to the royal family might be to catch the eye of the prince. If the village rumors are true, he is looking for a wife. Self-consciously, you smooth out your only dress, fiddling with the ends of your sleeves to get rid of the bare strands of thread. The dress is brown. The color of the mud. The dirt. The dust. Consequently, it is also the color you see most often. The color you absolutely despise.

But you try not to let it affect you very much. With your head held high and an alluring smile pasted on your face, you try to act like royalty as much as you can. The other girls are starting to gossip about the last chosen girl. You forgot her name. But she was a beautiful, pale-skinned, daughter of a poor widow; a girl who was notorious for sitting in the house and weaving all day. She (the natural beaut) caught the eye of the king last year. And so she was paraded away in the royal carriage and straight up into the castle.

No one's heard of her since.

In fact, none of the chosen girls ever visit the village again. Of course they don't. Who wants to see dirt after seeing gold?

The girls' chortling grows louder when the familiar carriage rolls up at the very end of the two lines everyone is ordered to stand in. You hold your breath as the inhabitants of the vehicle step out.

The king emerges from the carriage first. He looks regal. A bit older than he was last year, of course, but he's aged like fine wine. The royal crown sits on top of his white head, bedazzled in blue jewels and shining diamonds. He murmurs a few sharp words to the knights behind him, and they immediately dart forward to carry the train of the king's long mantle. The king huffs, nodding in approval before dusting off the bit of dirt that had fallen at the side of his clothes. Then, he turns, calling for someone else inside the carriage.

True to the rumors emerges Prince Jungkook. He's breathtaking. Twenty-two years old. Fairly young. Handsome. Tall. Fit. Majestic. He bears no crown on his head but instead a dainty, silver circlet. His warm, chocolate eyes make you want to melt. And when his face hits the glint of sunlight, his silvery, dangly earrings gleam, drawing your eyes to his neck, where a delicate necklace rests—a sun-shaped pendant that lies between his collar bones. When you've admired his jewelry enough, your eyes trail back up to his face. His lips are colored with just a dash of light pink and his cheeks are flushed with a rosy tint. Gods, his jawline...

You find yourself staring.

Until he meets your eyes. Gasping in shock, you would've looked away immediately—if he hadn't expressed interest in you too. But he does.

The prince's soft doe eyes scan your face, and the corners of his lips lift into a subtle smile. He gazes into your wide eyes, his own pair sparkling in the warm sunlight. He doesn't look at anyone else. Only walks toward you.

Your heart beats rapidly in your chest, and you stay frozen still. This is it. This is it!

You hold your breath.

But Jungkook doesn't spare you a second glance; at the last minute, he turns away from your direction with a barely noticeable crease on his forehead and he occupies himself with looking at his other options.

You let out a deep breath in time with your plummeting heart.

You're beginning to think your mother is right. Why did you think this year would be any different? You weren't chosen for six years straight. What made you think you'd be chosen this year?

You dejectedly sigh, gripping the sides of your dress as you stare at your dirt-covered shoes. Maybe you weren't pretty enough for Prince Jungkook. He did frown as he walked away from you. Ha. And you thought you'd caught his attention.

Pathetic. Maybe he was marveling at how filthy you looked, though you thought you made a good attempt of scrubbing all the dirt and dust off of your face. Maybe you missed a spot on your arms?

I hope they choose someone and go. You're already starting to dread the spiteful words that will spill from your mother's mouth when you come back home. Unchosen. Abandoned.

That's when you see a shadow overlapping your feet, turning the tops of the dirt-covered surfaces even darker than they already are. Your breath hitches when you look up to see the king of the Cerulean Kingdom staring right at you. Nearly wobbling over, you force yourself into a deep curtsy, keeping your head hung down. "Y-Your majesty."

"Her," the king mutters, motioning to the knights who had accompanied him. "You," he says. "Your name?"

"Y/N, your majesty."

"Y/N!" the king warmly smiles. He reaches out but does not touch you. With your eyes wide and heart temporarily stopped, you wait for him to utter the words you've wanted to hear your whole life. "You are chosen," he declares, clapping his hands. The other girls, though clearly disgruntled, clap along politely.

Your head spins. Suddenly, the heat of the once warm sunlight feels scorching, beating down on your head, and the roaring applause makes your knees nearly give out. You've never been congratulated for anything in your whole life.

The king gestures to you in a paternal way, his eyes, though wrinkled, offering you a welcoming smile. "Come, my child. We must get you ready for the celebration of your inclusion to the royal family."

"O-Oh," you gasp when the knights take you by the arms and start to march away. "Oh!" Your eyes light up as your heart feels like it's about to leap out of your throat. Amidst your happiness, you manage to remember your manners. "Thank you, your majesty! Thank you!"

"No, thank you, child," the king answers grandly. "For you will contribute great things to our kingdom."

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook staring at you. A frown is etched on his face.

You have never been surrounded by this much luxury in your whole life. The castle walls are made of white marble. The floors stretch on with off-white tiles and the velvet curtains cascade down to the ground, letting the floor-length windows bare. You stare out of them and up to the clear, blue sky.

Immediately, some maids dressed in pale blue usher you away to a bathroom that is larger than your home back in the village. They scrub the dirt that had eternally been embedded in your skin and wash and condition your hair with soaps and fragrances that smell of blossoming flowers. Then, they bathe you in rich oils that feel too smooth for your skin. You are buffed and shined until when you look at yourself in the mirror, you look like a goddess.

"You will be wearing blue, miss, to honor the emblem of the Cerulean Kingdom," a maid tells you. "And there will be a party held in your honor later tonight."

You can only nod your head, dazed and slightly giddy. The thought that you will be living like this for the rest of your life puts you to the heavens. You won't ever have to hunch over and work in the dirty fields ever again.

It is precisely at 6 o'clock when the celebration begins.

You're escorted to the very edge of the stair steps of the royal courtyard where the party awaits for you at the very bottom. In your sky-blue dress and your hair up with pure-white ribbons, you blend in with the sky.

Men line up to dance with you. The music is lively, only enhancing the entertainment as your feet never cease moving. You never get to learn the names of these men either. They seem to come and go. But you don't mind.

Everything blends in bright colors and happy faces. When the sky turns black, the party turns livelier than before; the stars that had once adorned the night sky are hidden away when they start the fireworks. You've had too many glasses of an amber, bubbly liquid and had one too many dances with merry, attractive strangers.

The white slippers around your feet start to dig uncomfortably in your heels. So you throw them off to the side and continue to dance. The curls in your hair have died down and you've lost some of the white ribbons somewhere, but you don't care. You're the life of a party.

You dance until one o'clock when there is barely anyone left except old men and women who hardly look up to vigorous dancing. That's when you wipe the sweat off your brow and take a deep breath. The night air is refreshing, and now that the fireworks have stopped, the sky looks empty. But even so, the castle twinkles in the moonlight.

You find your white heels under a bush and take both in one hand, walking to the edge of the castle walls and looking out to the village that you had just left today. The Cerulean Kingdom rivals its day-time beauty in the night.

There's a piece of white ribbon that keeps trailing across your back, so you tug it out of your hair and admire it in your hands. It's the purest, silkiest piece of material you've ever held in your life, glowing in the darkness as the delicate ends of it flutter in the night breeze.

You exhale, your breath slightly trembling. A small part of you feels guilty for leaving your mother to fare without you while you bask in these luxuries. But you wave the guilt away. I'll just request for food to be sent to the family. Besides, you were chosen. You belong here, now. Staring up at the sky... Lavishing in regal parties... You shouldn't feel guilty about it... right?

It's a miracle on your part—from peasant to royalty. How funny luck works. I better go to sleep to really test if this isn't just a dream. You're just about to turn around and head to your expansive bedroom when you hear someone clear their throat behind you.

Whirling around, you see the prince.

Without a second thought, you drop down in a low courtesy. "I-It's a pleasure to meet you," you stutter, "your highness." You're slightly wary, especially since at the Choosing Ceremony, he hadn't spared you a second glance. If you close your eyes, you can probably see him frowning at you again.

The prince gives you a slight nod so you stand up straight, suddenly feeling self-conscious about your rather disheveled state.

"I saw you at the Choosing Ceremony," Prince Jungkook says. He pauses, gazing at you from under his thick lashes. "You're beautiful."

You flush. "Thank you, your highness." It makes you wonder why he didn't pick you himself. Or why he frowned at you.

"How do you like it here so far?" the prince inquires, stepping closer to you. You notice that he maintains heavy eye-contact with you, and feeling flustered more than ever, you almost stumble backward.

"I-It's amazing, your highness," you manage to say. "The sky," you breathe, gesturing to the black emptiness above you, dotted with nothing but the twinkling stars and the shining moon, "has never been this beautiful."

Prince Jungkook smiles. He steps forward again, making your breath hitch. Seamlessly, he takes the white ribbon out of your hand. "Oh, there are things that are more beautiful than the sky, darling."

"O-Oh?"

He turns you around wordlessly, softly taking the strands of your hair and tying the ribbon back in. "Follow me, dear," he whispers, taking your hand.

And he leads you away in the darkness. Careful step by step, you're taken away from the royal courtyard and into the back gates of the massive castle. The more you walk, the better it feels to be out in the dark with only the moon and prince to guide you. It's starting to smell nicer too—a nice, natural scent from flowers and trees.

Prince Jungkook stops walking, smiling gently as he looks ahead. You follow his line of sight. "This," he announces proudly, motioning his hands across the expanse of the beautiful green flourished with blue and purple light, "is the royal garden."

Oh, gods. He's right. The garden is absolutely enchanting.

The flowers glow in the moonlight, twinkling almost as dazzlingly as the stars in the sky. Soft blue light rains down on the water lilies next to a pond. There's a quiet sound of trickling water, and you turn your head to follow the noise. When you see it, you gasp.

"A water fountain!" You point excitedly at the majestic stream of blue-lighted water falling into a shallow pond.

"Would you like to dip your feet in there?" Prince Jungkook smiles. "They must awfully ache."

You turn to him in surprise. How did he know...?

"Darling, you have quite the stamina," he laughs and it sounds like shimmering silver chimes. "You were dancing all night, weren't you?" He points at your slightly swollen feet as if showing you proof.

You duck your head down. He's right, your feet are probably going to be sore tomorrow morning. But... "Your highness, I didn't get to dance with you."

The prince chuckles. "I don't like public events. I rather stay inside and watch."

He must be sick of them. After all, he was born into this life, unlike you.

"It's much quieter here, isn't it?" the prince says. He cautiously takes your hand, leading you into the pond. The water is refreshingly cool and so clean that you can see your feet. "I come here often."

"I can see why, your highness," you breathe, marveling at the clear waters and the beautiful lights that surround you. Everything is beautiful. Even the people. You steal a glance at the handsome prince.

His lips are parted, water droplets from the fountain cascading down his chiseled face. His eyes gaze up at the night sky. "You'll have the best time around here," he tells you.

"Thank you, your highness."

The prince grins, looking sideways to stare fondly into your eyes. "We'll become well acquainted."

Your heart leaps in your chest. The prince! Is! Interested! In! You!! "I hope so, your highness."

"So I'd very much like it if you can call me Jungkook."

Your eyes widen and you glance unsurely at the prince who casually sits next to you. But he doesn't take back his statement so you believe he's being serious. "O-Oh," you stutter. "Of course, your h—I mean, um... Jungkook."

The prince laughs. "I look forward to meeting you again... Y/N."

"M-Me too, Jungkook."

The young prince smiles to himself. "I'll see you tomorrow."

It isn't a question, but a bold promise.

You sleep in a grand, mahogany bed with a soft mattress and warm covers. It's the best sleep you have ever had in your whole life.

Waking up with the birds chirping outside and the sunlight beaming in the room is something you can definitely get used to. When you turn your head, there is a bouquet of flowers on your nightstand that definitely wasn't there the night before. You pick up the bouquet and smell them. Roses.

A smile stretches across your lips when a note drops out amongst the sweet flowers.

Meet me in the garden for breakfast.

You don't have to be a genius to find out who that handwriting belongs to. There's only one person who knows you've been to the castle gardens. The prince. And he's waiting for you at the bottom of the steps.

"You look beautiful," he compliments, nodding at your royal blue dress and taking your hand. "I see you received my gift."

You clutch the bouquet of roses in your hand. "Thank you, Jungkook. I love them."

"My pleasure," he says, squeezing your hand. "Come, darling, I've arranged a picnic for us." He begins to lead you away into the depths of the royal garden and you follow him, entranced by his voice, his charm and his face.

Sure enough amongst the healthy bushes and towering trees and blooming flowers is a little white blanket spread out. On it are plates full of all kinds of delicious pastries. You drool just by the sight of it.

Jungkook laughs when he sees you subconsciously licking your lips.

"I wasn't sure if you liked fancy pastries, but now I'm not so worried anymore."

You're broken out of your hungry trance and you giggle. "Well, I've trained myself to eat anything in the village, so you won't have to worry again."

"Anything??"

"Um..." you pause, thinking heavily. "Well, maybe not anything. I've refused bird carcasses, caterpillars, spiders..." you trail off, becoming self-conscious as Jungkook starts to shift uncomfortably in his seat. "Sorry," you apologize sheepishly. "Probably not a great image to paint before eating this, right?"

"It's okay. I don't mind," Jungkook soothes. He shakes his head. "I'm sorry... I didn't know the village was like that."

"Not all of the village." You shrug. "Just the poorer part."

Jungkook's cautious, his head dipping down and his voice raising an octave as he asks, "W-Were you a... um, part of the, uh, poorer sector?"

"Well... I guess," you admit, awkwardly fidgeting with your hands. "I mean, objectively, yes."

"Objectively?"

"In my head, I was already here, in this castle, watching the blue skies without anyone having to nag at me to work." You giggle, gesturing toward the open sky and sighing. "And now I'm not so in my head anymore."

Jungkook laughs. "You can have all the food you want here. And also look at the sky for hours without distractions."

"And I even get you to talk to!" you exclaim. "It's like I've reached paradise... Though," you pause, "you probably think I'm overreacting, maybe."

"I'm used to that reaction."

You raise your eyebrows but don't say anything.

"I know what I have is a privilege," the young prince says slowly and surely. "And I'd give anything to find the courage to spread the wealth evenly..."

"When you become king—"

"It won't matter," Jungkook interrupts. "It never does. I won't be king for years. And by the time I am crowned king, I'll probably rule just like my father."

"Well, I think your father is fair."

"Really?"

"He's the reason I'm here!" you laugh. "Jungkook, he chose me at the Choosing Ceremony!" While you didn't, you want to add. But you don't. "He's generous, Jungkook. I admire him. If you rule just like him, I don't think there will be any problems."

Jungkook stares at you for a very long time. You start to squirm under his gaze.

Then the prince seems to shake out of thoughts and sighs. "I suppose so..." But there's something about the way he says it that you don't think he actually 'supposes so' at all. And then there's another long pause before: "Let's pray to the gods and enjoy our breakfast."

Jungkook clasps his hands together and closes his eyes shut tightly. Though you've never prayed before, you follow his actions, only opening one eye to see him murmuring prayers underneath his breath. It occurs to you that you don't even know how to pray.

And you're not very sure if the gods even exist.

But you stay silent and respectfully wait until Jungkook opens his eyes. He grins at you, holding up a pastry. "The god of sky blessed this meal for us. Especially for you."

"O-Oh. Thank you..." You take the pastry, marveling at the way the fruit sits perfectly on a well-toasted piece of... bread?? You're not even sure what that is, but it looks delectable. "I'm honored. Really."

"Go on, try it," Jungkook says. He doesn't touch the food, waiting eagerly for you to take your first bite.

So you do, careful not to take a large bite that will end up in you embarrassingly spilling crumbs and fruit pieces everywhere. Immediately when the fruity, tarty taste hits your tongue, your eyes light up. "Oh, gods," you groan, chewing slowly before swallowing. "This is amazing."

"Have as much as you want," Jungkook urges. "And then we can go to the kitchen later for lunch," he offers. "We have cakes and chocolate and candies there."

"Yes, please!" The thought of more delicious pastries and baked goods makes your mouth water—even with good food right in front of your face.

"Or I'll just give you a tour of the whole castle," Jungkook hums. "A different room every day. How does that sound?"

The crown prince! Giving you a private tour! He's really turning out to like you! Maybe the gods are really up there. "That sounds amazing, Jungkook!"

The prince smiles proudly. "Usually, I don't like to subject myself as the tour guide but..."

"But?"

"But I have a feeling we'll get along well."

After an extended breakfast, you and the crown prince walk around the gardens, talking and talking until your stomach growls embarrassingly loud. Jungkook had been telling you about the worst tutors he'd had in the castle and how he had pranked every single one of them. To see him reveal the sillier side of himself is adorable—and quite hilarious.

Under his formal, prince-like behavior is a young adult who is oblivious to the outside world; he's been stuck inside the protective walls of the castle for twenty-two years—of course the only problem he'd know is an intolerable tutor. You don't blame him.

It doesn't really matter when the prince is kind. He makes sure to ask you questions about yourself, but you much rather talk about his life, instead. Jungkook catches on fast, and he's been talking about his annoying tutors ever since.

You're actually sad that the fun conversation about Jungkook's heinous geography tutor has to come to a stop because of the rude interruption from your stomach. But Jungkook offers something even better than a story:

"I think it's time for a trip to the kitchen, darling." He grabs your hand and the two of you dash, side by side, back inside the castle. The open double doors reveal a massive kitchen that boasts hundreds and hundreds of royal chefs and bakers—both dabbling in their specialties of savory food and the sweets. The sight and gods, the smell overtakes your senses.

"Oh my gods."

"Right?" the prince grins. "The best bakers in the kingdom live in the castle to bake for us. Look!"

Jungkook resembles an excited child—his cheeks are flushed as he practically dances around the kitchen. "Come on!!" he exclaims, showing you around the massive kitchen and letting you taste-test everything. By the time you leave, you feel like you've gained fifteen pounds and acquired an extra stomach. You and Jungkook are both covered head to toe in flour as well.

"Well, you're quite the sight," Jungkook laughs, gently bopping your nose. He wipes a bit of flour off your chin, his fingers lingering. He coughs politely, drawing his hand away almost sheepishly.

"Thank you," you say, smiling. "But you're quite the sight too!"

Still, you have to admit, something about the prince's disheveled hair and the streak of flour across his cheek is adorable. You would've reached forward to clean him up but Jungkook beats you to it, quickly rubbing his arm against his cheek and subsequently getting rid of the flour stain. He even looks embarrassed about it too.

"Want to wash everything down with wine?" he suggests, shrugging casually. "I'll take you to our cellar."

"Wine!" It's a delicacy you've never had the privilege to try. The day keeps getting better and better.

"I'm assuming that's a yes." The prince takes your hand again and the two of you run down the empty halls of the towering castle. You pass by countless open doors, each promising a new world upon entering. A library, a drawing room, a theater room, a swim room (topped off with a hot tub too) and hundreds and hundreds of guest bedrooms (where the other chosen girls must be)... However, there is one door, you notice, that is locked with heavy chains from the outside. It looks like you'd need a key to get in. Which is strange, considering all the other rooms are open for access.

But your wondering is cut short when Jungkook halts to a stop in front of an open door that leads to what looks like the royal cellar. You squint, trying to get a glimpse at the bottom of the seemingly endless stairs. "Watch your step," Jungkook says in his dulcet tone, holding your hand as he guides you down a rather dark staircase. "The room's dimly lit, but it's worth being in the dark." He turns around to smile. "Wine has a way of relaxing you."

"I'm already the most relaxed I've been in my entire life!"

Jungkook laughs. "Fantastic. Keep that up, darling."

But the prince is right. You thought you were relaxed until six sips of a burgundy-colored liquid, and you've proven yourself wrong. Your head feels like it's resting on the clouds. Jungkook's equally relaxed as you, his legs spread out in front of him (a posture that his nanny would kill him for) as he has a lazy arm around your shoulder. Instinctively, you lean into his chest, letting out a soft whine of approval when he begins to pet your hair.

"Usually I drink by myself," the prince confesses in a low but mellifluous voice. It's almost as addicting as the deep garnet wine left in your crystal glass. "It's nice to have company."

You can smell the wine on his breath when he speaks. Nodding leisurely and pensively, you take another slow sip. "But one day you'll meet a princess from far away and you'll drink with her," you reply thoughtfully. "You're charming. And she'll be charming too. You'll do more than enjoy her company."

Jungkook laughs. And this time, it doesn't sound like silver chimes but dreamy, drawn-out heavy bells. "I'm not going to marry a princess," he snorts. He deliberately runs his fingers through your glossy tresses, shaking his head in denial. "There's nothing outside the kingdom except barren wasteland, darling."

If you weren't so relaxed, you'd think this was bigger news. But you merely laugh, nodding your head drunkenly. "Interesting."

"Quite so," Jungkook draws out slowly. "Well," he hums, pausing dramatically. "There are two neighboring kingdoms. But they don't call themselves that. It's a shame. No kings, queens... no royalty of any kind. They worship nothing. Heartless souls."

"Heartless, yes, heartless," you agree passionately.

Jungkook smiles. "Heartless, indeed."

You reach for your wine glass again but Jungkook stops you. "Come, let's get you to your room. I think you've had enough to drink for today."

"But—"

"We'll have some more tomorrow, darling. How does that sound?"

You nod eagerly. Jungkook looks at you fondly before helping you walk up the stairs and guiding you toward your bedroom. You collapse on your bed, handings splayed on your stomach.

Jungkook sits down at the edge, watching your face unabashedly. A giggle erupts from your lips so suddenly, the prince jumps.

"Jungkoo?"

The prince smiles at the new nickname. "Yes, darling?"

"Will there ever be a new queen?"

"Maybe," he slurs. "Not in a long, long time, though."

"Hmph."

"Why?"

But when you don't answer, Jungkook looks over to find you asleep. He'll have to call over some maids to cook you some hot soup for dinner—if you awake by then, that is. The soup will surely make you feel less queasy. And it's Jungkook's job to make you feel safe around here. As long as you don't ask too many questions, you'll be happy until the day you die.

He carefully tucks you in bed, letting your hair splay around your head in a neat circle. You'd called him Jungkoo. His heart leaps in his chest with the memory. The prince has been trained to stay rigid, regal, formal. He's not supposed to chase after a village girl, but even the gods can't stop him from liking you.

As of now, that is.

It is morning when you wake up to the smell of something delicious. A steaming hot bowl of soup and neatly cut slices of avocado sit on a tray on your nightstand. Though your eyes feel a little dry and there's a mysterious thumping in your head, you seem to have had a good night's sleep.

The breakfast in bed is delicious as expected. But now, you're not too sure what to do. Yesterday, Jungkook had written a note for you. Today, there is no such note anywhere in your commodious bedroom. So you dress in a pastel blue gown, fix your hair with a single white ribbon and begin to wander around the castle by yourself.

I figure I have to get used to this place. I'll be living here for the rest of my life.

There's a part of you that wants to meet the other chosen girls and see how they've been living in wealth. But another part of you wants to find the prince.

Since Jungkook's nowhere in sight, however, you end up knocking on all of the guest bedroom doors in hopes of finding a friend. Soon, it occurs to you that none of the girls are in their rooms. The castle is vast so they must be relaxing in some of the other commodious chambers the royal family has to offer.

It doesn't really matter, anyway.

Alone time is much appreciated too. The ceilings of the hallways are made of glass, letting the morning light flood in and bounce off of shiny decorations, making everything sparkle. You stare at the blue sky in awe.

The gods have blessed the kingdom with clear skies and good weather for years. It's no secret the royal family worships them. You, on the other hand, never had the luxury to worship anything when you lived in the village. Maybe Jungkook can teach you a thing or two about praying to the gods so you can finally thank them for creating something so magnificent.

When the sun starts to sting your eyes, however, you're forced to look away from the ceiling. Your eyes fall upon the locked door you had seen just yesterday. The chains look daunting, almost challenging you to a match. As if in a trance, you walk towards it, hands grazing against the silver doorknob. You suck in a breath.

There's something behind those doors. Something grand. An enigma for now, but maybe you'll find out later. You place your ear against the surface of the white door, trying to listen for anything that might be inside the mysteriously locked room. But all you hear is the light whispers of the wind. Inside, there must be an open window. Which means the sky would be in view.

Interesting...

"Darling, step away from the doors, please."

You gasp, stumbling back several steps upon Jungkook's soft but stern demand. His eyes morph from narrow slits to his normal, alluring doe eyes. "O-Oh! I didn't see you there."

"Of course you didn't," the prince soothes. He grabs your hand. "Come, let's enter the library. I have wine waiting for us there."

"Ooh, wine." But a frown morphs across your features. You look up at the handsome prince curiously. "Why are those doors locked, Jungkook?" He's being so defensive all of a sudden.

"Behind those doors is the sky room," the prince says. There is a cold tinge to his voice that makes you flinch. "The ceiling is wide open and the floor is flat with gravel."

He seems done talking, but he hadn't answered your question. "But—"

"Let's go to the library," he interrupts. You don't protest when he begins to drag you away. After all, you have years and years to figure out that secret. And right now, wine sounds very promising.

Everything is hazy again. Wine on your tongue and ancient texts in your head—it's quite a new feeling.

You and Jungkook share a seat on a regal-looking couch with a book in one hand and a wine glass in the other. Reading isn't exactly your forte, though you do know how to do it. So after a few minutes of staring at the small-print texts, you switch to admiring the pictures. Jungkook pours you wine glass after wine glass until you've drunken more than half of the bottle.

"I think that's enough drinking for today," he tells you. Today, he's not slurring his words. You notice that his wine glass sits barely touched in his hands.

"I am relaxed," you sigh. "I love it here."

Jungkook smiles, setting down his drink and book to wrap his arms around you. "Th-That's... That's wonderful."

You're so drunk you miss the way he stutters.

It's important that you stay relaxed here for the rest of your stay. Jungkook wishes he could do something... anything to help. But he can't mess with fate and what the gods have ordained for the kingdom.

"Do the gods really exist?" you mutter.

The prince jumps. It's almost as if you've read his thoughts. "Of course they do," he answers automatically. "They are the ones who help the kingdom prosper."

"If the other... neighboring kingdoms don't worship the gods..." you trail off, lazily reaching for Jungkook's sun-shaped pendant and playing with the necklace chain. "Does that mean the kingdoms... don't prosper?"

"Yes," the prince answers. "It might as well be a barren wasteland."

"That's unfortunate," you huff. "They should worship the gods."

Jungkook places a hand on top of yours, causing you to pause fingering his dainty necklace. "They should..."

But internally, Jungkook's glad they don't.

You giggle, blinking slowly as you unknowingly bat your eyelashes at the prince. He's trying to maintain self-control, watching you slowly drag your tongue across your lips to taste the remnants of the wine.

"Jungkoo..."

"Yes, princess?"

The nickname has you soaring. "You... At... at the Choosing Ceremony..."

Jungkook gulps. He knows what you're going to try to talk about. And while you're drunk, which saves you a lot of embarrassment and awkwardness, he isn't.

"You didn't choose me." Your lips pull out in a full pout. "Your father did."

"I am not allowed to choose," Jungkook says, petting your hair and holding you close to his chest. "It is not up to me."

It's half true.

But if Jungkook was given the chance, he'd stop his father from choosing you as well.

You wake up to a morning in a foreign bed that only smells familiar. Everything last night is still blurred in your mind. How did I get here?

"Darling? Are you awake?" Jungkook comes into view, holding a tray of pastries in his hands. He smiles at you charmingly, setting the tray down on the bed and sitting across from you. "You fell asleep in the library and my room was closer so..." he trails off, handing you a buttered croissant. "I hope you don't mind. I slept on the couch."

He also hopes you don't remember the conversation you had yesterday with him. He hopes you don't hold grudges against him for not choosing you. But maybe that thought is always at the back of your head. It's why you'd so suddenly brought that up to him yesterday. Being drunk on wine gave you courage.

"Oh..." you answer, rubbing your head. "Thank you, Jungkook." He grins when you take the croissant and bite into it. "Mmm!" you exclaim. "I'll never get used to the food around here."

From the looks of it, you don't remember yesterday's conversation.

Jungkook laughs with both relief and endearment. "So...? What do you want to do today? Something special?"

You chew thoughtfully on the pastry. "What if we just stay in your room?"

The prince frowns, making you wonder if you've crossed the line. "My room? Are you sure you don't want to go anyplace else? The stables... The pool... Not even the garden again?"

Of course, the offers sound welcoming but—"I just want to... rest."

Jungkook thinks you couldn't have chosen the worst timing. But he relents. He can't but let you do whatever you want. Especially when so many other things are out of your control. "Of course, darling. What would you like to do here?"

"I don't know!" you giggle. "Maybe... talk?"

"We've been talking for nearly three days!"

"I... um, don't exactly remember much from those conversations."

Right. You had been drunk. Thank the gods. Jungkook thinks conversation with you is easier when either one of you is drunk.

The two of you finish breakfast with leisure, laughing and giggling about childhood stories and memories. There is no serious talk—only happy tales and funny narratives.

The more Jungkook learns about you, the more he realizes how naïve you actually are. Almost as if the trauma you've faced in the village has activated a self-defense mode in you in which you close off reality and live in a bubble by yourself. But it's better this way. He wishes he were as naïve as you. Oblivious. Happy. Dreamy.

You talk about your mother—who wasn't really your mother, but a woman who adopted you so she could have an extra pair of hands on the field. A woman who would spend the day ordering you around and at night, send you back to the orphanage so she wouldn't have to feed you.

Not once do you explain this with a look of scorn on your face. You tell the story as if you're completely detached from it. Like it's a dark comedy. But you're safe inside your own bubble of comfort. Because in your own little world, you can look up to the bright blue skies. Depend on that to be your solace.

Thinking further makes Jungkook think about how unfortunate it is. Discomfort creeps up from his stomach to his throat, but he can't bring himself to say anything. So the two of you are left in comforting silence.

Then:

"I never got to thank you for keeping me company, here," you say, shyly, cautiously as if testing the waters. The prince smiles.

"Well, it's been a long time since somebody from the village offered good company," Jungkook confesses. "I don't normally come out of my room."

"So this must be like one of the other days..."

"It's better," he says. "Because I'm usually stuck here alone getting drunk."

"Why don't you like the other girls?" you ask. It's an innocent question that isn't laced with any malice or judgment. "You could easily spend time with them too."

"But I pity them."

"Pity?" You raise an innocent eyebrow.

"Yes." The prince doesn't offer more explanation.

"When can I see them?" you ask eagerly. "Maybe I can help you get acquainted with them."

If you weren't so excited, you would've noticed Jungkook flinching. "You may see them tomorrow."

"Tomorrow!"

"Yes..."

You turn your head to stare at Jungkook. He looks a bit lost, eyes glossed over and mouth set in a stern line. "Is something the matter?" you whisper. "Jungkook...?" You place a hand on his arm.

The prince shakes his head, blinking away his haze to look at you. "I'm fine, thank you, darling," he says. "Sometimes, don't you wonder though? What's really outside the Cerulean Kingdom? Beyond the barren wasteland, maybe?"

"No, not really." You laugh, shrugging. "I imagine nothing outside the kingdom."

"But in the slight chance that there is..."

"Are you suggesting we run away, prince? Have you forgotten your title?" you giggle.

"It is merely a title," Jungkook says. "Sometimes I want to escape this place."

"The beautiful skies? The perfect weather? You want to leave that?"

"Especially that."

You huff. "I wanted to leave the village to see the sky. And you want to leave the kingdom because of it."

"You'll understand soon," the prince says, his hand reaching out to play with your silky tresses.

"In a few years?"

"Tomorrow," he answers. His eyes gloss over again but this time, frown lines stretch across his forehead. But you don't see it. Too busy daydreaming about the morning skies and mulling over Jungkook's last words to notice.

If you had been attentive enough, you would've run away with him.

The rest of the day with Jungkook had been almost uneventful. The conversation had flowed easily and comfortably—especially after the prince introduced a new bottle of wine. He had let you fall asleep after pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead, mumbling a slurred goodbye which you had accepted, not thinking it was that special at all.

To Jungkook, it meant so much more.

In the morning, you find yourself being shaken awake on your bed in your own room. The maids are urging you to get out of bed. When you reach for a midnight blue dress, they swat your hand away and replace it with a silky white gown that falls past your ankles and trails a few centimeters away from your bare feet. You insist on white ribbons in your hair, but the maids silently shake their heads. Instead, they style your smooth locks in loose curls that cascade down your back. They keep your face bare too, even though you would've liked a little bit of color on your lips and cheeks.

If you didn't know any better, you think they're trying to get you ready to meet the other girls. You didn't know the gathering would be so formal. Jungkook had glossed over the details the other day, so you're not too sure what to expect. Something tells you a delicious breakfast will be involved, though.

You wonder when you'll be able to see Jungkook. And even though it was hazy, you still remember the kiss he had left on your forehead last night. Will your relationship with him ever develop into something... more?

Your daydreaming is halted when the maids who usher you out of your room are replaced by knights in silvery armor. The swords laced into their belts are daunting, but maybe they're trying to keep you safe? They urge you down the beautiful hallways of the castle and stop right in front of the locked doors.

You look questioningly at the knights but their faces are hidden behind their silver helmets. "Are we having breakfast in there?" They don't answer. Biting your lip, you wait for the knights to unlock the door. When they finally reveal the room to you, you realize the Jungkook was right. This is the sky room.

The light breeze you had heard is a result of the ceiling that is nonexistent. The sky gazes back at you. The blueness of it is absolutely mesmerizing. You sigh out in complete contentment.

If you had been less naïve, you would've seen the crowd stands against the sides of the wall. You would've seen the chains bolted to the floor in the middle of the room. You would've seen the traces of dried blood on the rough gravel.

Your daydreaming is put to a screeching halt when the loud chattering of people behind to fill the room. People, the same people you've danced with at the celebration party, flood into the sky room with blank faces. They are dressed in sky blue—the same cerulean color of the sky. It appears you are the only one wearing white.

"Hello!" you try to greet them. "It's nice to see you again!"

The people grumble back their salutations, leaving you feeling a bit rejected. What is going on?

Almost as if the gods answered your question, Jungkook comes practically flying into the room. Immediately, you frown. He doesn't look too good. His usually glowy skin is pale and he looks sick. When the prince catches sight of you, he rushes to pull you into a firm hug.

"Y/N..." he breathes.

"Oh!" you yelp. "Is there something wrong?"

Jungkook doesn't answer, digging his face into your pure white dress. You notice he's wearing a tailored sky-blue suit with golden cuff links. Silver suits him much better.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers in your ear. "I'm so, so sorry... I wish it weren't like this."

You pull away from him, giggling. "Like what? Are you okay, your highness?"

Jungkook doesn't think the situation is funny. Instead, he grasps your hands and pushes them on his chest. You can feel how quickly his heart beats. "Y/N, darling... From the first look, I knew..."

"You knew...?"

"I-I'm sorry," the prince stutters. He desperately looks around. "I should've snuck you some wine."

You frown. It scares you that his usually composed aura is in shambles. "Jungkook...?"

He shakes his head. "I'm sorry."

"Why do you keep—"

Before you can finish your sentence, you're ripped away from the prince. The knights forcefully pull you, your bare feet dragging across the gravel on the ground. Their disrespect appalls you for a split second before you holler a frustrated, "Wait!"

But they don't listen.

That's when you realize the people have gathered in their seats. The seats that surround you. Like they are an audience to a show. Suddenly, you feel vulnerable. As if your white gown is invisible and you're left bare for everyone to stare at and scrutinize.

Your protective bubble pops.

"W-What's going on?" you ask the knights. They're silent.

Instead, they force you on your knees, then push you so your back is against the uncomfortable gravel. "What's going on?!" you yell louder. Your voice seems to echo in the ceiling-less room. Nobody dares to answer. They all stare at you.

The clinking of metal makes you turn your head in shock. They have chains. You scream. When no one answers, you scream Jungkook's name. There are a few murmurs but no one comes to help you.

"Jungkook!" you shriek. "Please!" He watches with a pained look on his face. Unable to lose eye contact, he slowly backs away. Finally, he finds purchase on a special seat bedazzled with blue jewels. And he still watches, biting his lip nervously and clawing at his tailored suit.

The knights chain your limbs to the ground so you're left completely immobile. All you can do is look up.

That same sky you were barely able to gaze at for the first nineteen years of your life... it's all you can see, now. It's easily the bluest sky you've ever seen. For a slight moment, you're pulled into its beautiful trance again, momentarily pausing your struggling against the chains.

There is not a single cloud in the sky.

You are the only one in white in the vast sea of blue.

Your eyes shake when they catch sight of the paintings on the walls. There are graphic pictures—horrifying pictures—of death, blood and... the skies opening up with two outstretched hands. Dead girls with their internal organs spilling out. A cloaked figure holding up a bloody heart to the sky. The crowds mumbling their prayers.

Chills run down your spine.

That's when it hits you.

This is where you're going to meet the other girls.

How could I have been so foolish?

You're a sacrifice.

For the gods.

And when Jungkook said you were going to meet the other chosen ones, he had meant it. You'll surely meet the girls in the afterlife once you're dead.

You feel gutted. And you will be in a few minutes. A deep pain rings in your stomach as if they're ripping you apart right now. The sky looms over you sinisterly. You feel dizzy. Your ears begin to ring.

It's the feeling of betrayal. Tears sting your eyes as you struggle to look at the young prince. The glint in his eyes shows you that he's close to tears too, but he looks away before you can surely tell.

I trusted you, you want to scream at him.

But maybe it's not his fault, though. You weren't his choice at the Choosing Ceremony. He'd liked you from first look... but he hadn't chosen you on purpose. He'd walked away. He'd wanted to keep you safe.

Your attention shifts to the king of the Cerulean Kingdom who sits next to the young prince. There is not a single bit of remorse in his dark eyes. You want to wipe the smile off of his face. He had chosen you. Not Jungkook. He had brought you to your impending demise. Angry tears roll down the sides of your face. You thought he was being generous. You thought he saved you. But he was only putting you to death. A sacrifice for the good of the kingdom.

A man cloaked in a deeper shade of cerulean blue enters your line of sight. He holds a glinting dagger by his side. You suck in a breath. That was the man depicted in the paintings. He's going to kill you.

Your worst suspicions come true as he begins to recite in a piercing voice the offering of your heart to the god of the sky. The cloaked man thanks the god for another year of sunshine and blue skies.

You should've run away with Jungkook yesterday. Or you should've drunken some wine before this. Your senses are too sharp. You'll feel the pain when he rips out your heart.

I should've had wine.

Your eyes meet Jungkook's for a split second before you turn away. You should've run away with him. It's definitely too late now.

Everything he had told you makes more sense now. Why he wanted to explore the outside of this cursed kingdom. Why he didn't want to rule like his father. Why he couldn't possibly marry you—a sacrifice. Why he's so lonely... because he shouldn't get attached to the girls who will die in front of his eyes in three day's time. But he made a mistake with you. His curiosity and instinctive tendencies and your naïveness and blatant trust had been a recipe for disaster.

Now both of you are suffering from it.

But Jungkook is the least of your troubles now.

Your eyes begin to water again when the cloaked man brings up the knife above his head. It glistens and shines excruciatingly brightly. You're just seconds away from your death. Unless the process is slow. But you doubt even the king is that heartless to make you suffer.

You slowly move your head to the side where the cloaked man isn't blocking your view of the sky. The boundless, blue emptiness stares back at you. Mocking you.

This is the price you'll have to pay. You're finally giving what you owe for admiring the cerulean skies.

When you close your wet eyes, you aren't encompassed with a black darkness; bright blue light still filters through.

Gods, you wish to see anything but blue now.

—a/n: to read my behind the scenes thoughts/notes on this story, click here!

—masterpost

—masterlist

#ficswithluv #btswritersnet #btswriterscollective #bangtanfairygarden #btswritingcafe #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #bts #bts fanfiction #all you see is blue #aysib #this story makes me sad 🥴🥴#it majorly connects to one of my other stories #THAT particular story will be published like next year tho #idk if anyone's gonna remember the details then oOp

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