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morganitering · 5 months

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Because I'm the Weakest II: The Women Who Never Won

Pairings/character dynamics: Satosugu, Shoko and reader, Nanami and reader, implied shoko x utahime

Contains and warnings: DARK FIC/DEAD DOVE fem!reader, Suicidal ideation, rape aftermath, referenced rape (not written out in this chap), depression, alcohol abuse, misogyny & sexism, internalized sexism, sexual harassment on minors done by minors, victim blaming (thoughts), self harm, angst, hurt & comfort, I call noncon with the official word for it

Word count: ~9,6k

Summary: There's certain desperation when you try to keep your head above water. You were drowning and all you wanted to do was to forget, the weight on your shoulders unbearable. Despite the cards you were dealt with you found yourself among allies as the web of untold memories started to unfold.

A/N: Hey! Yall waited long for this, sorry about that. I have no idea how to tag this but I'll just do it somehow, bc this is a tricky chapter. Here yall get to dive deeper in the stuff that has gone down before the events that took place in 1st chap and get a hug from Shoko. This is hopefully the last installment of this. Read the tags carefully as always and make informed decisions based on that and take care of yourself. Shit can get heavy, but I'm trying to do this in good taste.

Read on ao3 part I

Shoko Ieiri had worked a long time with people who suffered. She had seen it all, limbs cut off, even the toughest of sorcerers reduced to crying messes as they practically had their innards falling to the floor. There’s something utterly horrifying watching a patient, no – a friend scream in pain when even her skills were not enough. Funerals came and went, the white sheet thrown over the deceased on the operation table in the same routine way she’d change her linens. Nothing really shocked her.

That’s what she liked to think.

Your visits have been more frequent. It started with bruises and sprained ankles. Then it was broken bones that soon turned to puncture wounds, your clothes sticky with deep red and dirt. When she asked about it, you laughed it off saying it’s nothing, just a silly little mishap, “I was too reckless in the heat of the moment.” But your eyes were empty, your words hollow like a dead tree. Of course Shoko did her job, without asking too much. You’re an adult and you’ll speak about it if you want to, right? Her job was to keep you alive. Your job was to exorcise curses.

Shoko and you had been close too, hanging out with the two men, but at some point in high school she had withdrawn from the group. Gojo and Geto had tried to keep in touch with her in adulthood, inviting her as well to spend time together as the four of them, but she had always declined, smoothly changing their relationship to acquaintances at best. She heard enough of the despicable men from you. The only times she was in direct contact with Gojo and Geto was work related and god how she hoped that it would stay that way. She’ll play that pretend game almost happily.

Shoko closed the office door the day turning to evening, sundown coloring the city in hues of orange and yellow. She held onto her little black purse, thankfully it was friday. A man stood on the long corridor, standing upright as if he did not belong here. He looked indifferent, almost bored.

“Nanami.”

“Ieiri.”

They greeted each other with a curt nod.

“So what brings you here? You seem healthy enough,” Shoko asked as they walked to the open parking lot, only a few cars in sight. The warm summer sun caressed her cheeks, wind making her long hair flow in waves.

“I think she’s going through something,” Nanami stated as a matter of fact talking about you. He and you had gone on missions together, but something about you wasn’t right. He had seen the way you clutch your weapon, throw yourself at the enemy recklessly almost as if you had a death wish. It’s like you waited for your end.

“No shit.” Shoko chuckled amused. It was as clear as a day if you just had eyes on yourself. “Why do you care?”

“I’ve seen enough people spiral to know where it leads. You’re a healer, can’t you help?” His voice was thoughtful, not betraying a hint of emotions.

“I can’t help a person who doesn’t want it,” Shoko said. “But I’ll try to figure something out.”

“And that is enough. Thank you.”

***

You hated meetings and rarely took part in them if you could avoid them. You had not met Gojo or Geto after the unfortunate night. If there were some work related things where there was a possibility to meet either of the men, you requested to be part of them remotely or that someone would just forward the key points. But after doing this for a few months Yaga had sent you a passive-aggressive email writing that it is absolutely mandatory for you to show yourself at least once in a while. You didn’t bother to answer him with anything other than a polite see you there.

Honestly you were tired. Your whole body ached in overexertion. Sleep escaped from you, ran a marathon around the block never stopping at your house, and every time you seemed to catch a break, hazy images you rather forbid being real filled your vision. Your eyebags told a story of exhaustion, your body shrinking in every possible way away. You went to see a doctor, not Shoko, just some normal practitioner from the private sector that you ended up paying yourself sick for.

The doctor gave you pills to help you with sleep. He asked you if you were stressed or going through some sorts of crisis. You answered with a diligent no and explained that you’ve always had issues with sleep, but you were otherwise okay. He looked at you, raising his eyebrow in suspicion, the glasses on his head hung on his nose by a thread. He decided to believe you as he wrote the prescription, but insisted you took home pamphlets about depression and crisis hotlines.

You tried the pills. You did fall asleep, but only after a panic attack wrecked through your body as the effect of the medication forced you into a deep slumber. The pills made you feel your pulse in your whole body. “It’s a quite strong product, previously used to treat psychosis, but nowadays it’s for patients with severe insomnia. Take it one hour before sleep. The effect might be really sudden.”

When you woke up you decided to throw them away. It’s better to not to sleep if it meant that you’d go free from the horrors of the night you had experienced.

The huge meeting table sprawled out horizontally and was able to sit around fifteen people in it. It had several small electric outlets for computers and tablets. Light poured in from the big windows, the blinds only halfway done. You stared at the weird scribbling on the white board that Principal Yaga was wiping furiously, muttering things about how students shouldn’t be let in this room under any circumstance since they can’t differentiate which markers are okay to use on it.

You exchanged pleasantries with him. The room was devoid of people since you were too early. You swung your leather bag on the back of the upholstered office chair and sat yourself down.

Shoko walked in and her face lit up a little bit when she saw you sitting there. It was subtle, you thought that you were maybe the only one who could differentiate that expression from her. She sat next to you, a faint hint of neroli wrapping you to its calming aroma.

Next came Meimei and then Utahime who came running to you two giving a happy hug to Shoko. They were so cute together, you thought to yourself as you fidgeted with your slightly too big shoes, constantly removing them and pushing them back to your feet. People don’t usually like small talk, but nonetheless the group chatted with each other. They had to, because it’s polite and you were coworkers. You thought that small talk was easy. The script of it was burnt to your brains for the rest of your life. You get to keep people at an arm's length and keep up appearances, so what’s there not to like?

A familiar blonde man stood in the doorway. You checked your phone for the time. Only five minutes before the official start. Yuki also appeared after Nanami.

“Hello,” he said and nodded at you as he sat himself next to you. Your whole body stiffened around him. It was hard to look him in the eyes and even harder to work missions with.

It was ten minutes past the official time when the meeting was supposed to start.

“Sorry we are late.” Two men marched in the room with confident strides and took their place in front of you facing you, that was sitting in between Nanami and Shoko, Utahime next to the doctor. Suguru sat down next to Yuki leaving a space for Satoru who had Meimei next to him.

Hearing Suguru’s voice made your skin crawl.

“It’s fine,” Yaga said and looked over his shoulder to look at the white screen he had pulled down earlier with only a blue screen reflecting on the fabric. “I can’t seem to get this work anyway,” he mumbled.

“Do you need help?” Suguru walked over to the man struggling over his laptop. “Have you checked the HDMI-cable?”

“Of course I have, I just don’t understand why it won't work. We have Ijichi remote today,” he muttered partially to himself.

“Let me.”

You sat fidgeting on your chair focusing on everything else than the two men and their presence that suffocated you. If you were a candle they’d be snuffing you out but not properly, no, that would be too kind. They’d always let enough air in so that you’d never be completely put out.

“Hello to you girls.. and Nanami,” Satoru flashed a playful grin at the four of you. Your head jerked involuntarily to look at the man. Thank god he has a habit of covering his eyes, but somehow that made him even worse.

“Hello. How are you?” Nanami nodded politely.

“I’m well. Hopefully the work isn’t stressing you out too much.” Satoru’s smile widened.

“Speaking of work, I’ve heard that you and her have started doing missions together,” Satoru nudged his head towards you as he spoke directly to Nanami. “I actually green lighted the idea of sorcerers working more together. It’s good to practice teamwork and I put in good words for the two of you, since you compliment each other with the techniques you have. ” Satoru moved his head to look your way as he drew out his words in a way that you’d be sure to catch the dual meaning.

The wall flashed a few times showing the computer screen and it’s default wallpaper for only a moment and after that went back to blue.

“An idea that I actually can get behind,” Nanami said agreeably.

Your eye twitched.

“Really? That was your doing?” You barely hid the anger of your voice. One more push and you’d pour your life savings on an amoral hitman, not that you’d believe that anyone could finish him off. It was a thought just for you so you could at least think about being mean in your own petty way.

“Not a fan of working in groups of two? How about in groups of three?”

“You fucking piece of-”

“Okay I think it’s working now,” Yaga put his hands together straightening himself properly. Suguru walked over to Satoru, slightly shaking his head before he sat down. You heard Utahime’s quiet “okayy..” whispered in the awkward silence.

“Unfortunately principal Gakuganji wasn’t able to make it today, he’s sick or something.”

You heard Gojo scoff audibly.

“Try to respect him.” Yaga shot a glare in the young teacher’s way.

“Ijichi and Nitta have gathered data about the hotspots of cursed activity,” he continued and opened up the window to teams only to be greeted by a tired looking black haired man in a suit. The background behind him was red, it looked like some type of wallpaper and small paintings covered the walls. You reckoned it was a hotel room. Or a motel, you really could not tell.

“Ijichi, do you hear me? Would you like to take over?” Yaga’s voice boomed louder as if he wasn’t already near his computer.

The grainy picture of the tired man smiling uncomfortably stayed still a little too long to be taken as a real time reaction to Yaga’s question.

“I hear you. Sorry, the connection here is a bit bad.” Ijichi’s voice echoed in the office room. The picture of a slideshow appeared on the wall, making Ijichi’s face smaller.

The map of Tokyo loomed on the wall as everyone stared at it intensely, more or less dozing off. Some parts of it had big red circles on them and Ijichi explained the way these places were having exceptionally heavy activity. He reckoned that partially the rise in activity tied to the sorcerers working more missions together leaving less people available. Ijichi also showed statistics comparing the effectiveness of sorcerers based in Tokyo and Kyoto.

You were about to lose your mind, your body still pumping adrenaline after the conversation with Gojo. Everyone else seemed to be bored, oblivious to your struggle. Satoru had yawned at least three times in the last ten minutes, Shoko and Utahime were both interested in their nails. Even Suguru looked tired and he was pretty good at hiding his thoughts. The only ones who did not look outwardly dead inside were Yaga and Nanami.

“Thank you Ijichi for your hard work,” Yaga said and Ijichi nodded smiling. The pop up of the slideshow vanished from the screen leaving Ijichi’s face in a huge resolution looming onto the wall.

“We are going to take in account the effects of pairing up sorcerers. I’m not entirely in charge of how long this trial will take,” Yaga said. “Ieiri has this trial affected the health care aspect in any way?”

Shoko cleared her throat tapping open the ipad in front of her, her nails making a satisfying click click sound.

“The injuries have lessened,” she started. That’s good, you thought. “But the severity has increased,” she said with a serious face.

“Why is that?” Principal scrunched his eyebrows together.

“In my professional opinion it is due to people being more brazen when having a partner. This can be seen especially in lower grade sorcerers, who are prone to believing that they are invincible when someone backs them up.” Everyone had turned to look at the doctor who played with her hair idly as she spoke.

“And the second grade and up?”

“It happens less. But there are some, even first grade sorcerers, who are accident prone,” Shoko said and quickly looked at you, not long enough for others to pick up on that she was speaking about you.

Gojo’s phone rang in the middle of the conference. He left the room with an apology and never came back. Relief and anger ignited in you playing tug of war in your heart as your eyes followed him bitterly.

“I think this is all. I’ll send everyone the upcoming jobs, but if no one has anything to say, I think we can conclude this meeting here,” Yaga said, the choir of thank yous and goodbyes filling the room.

You stretched yourself, happy to be on your feet again.

“Hey, can we talk?” Nanami tried to get your attention.

You stood in the room that was quickly emptying out of people. Shoko awkwardly hung around in a small distance from you and Nanami, trying to pretend that she wasn’t listening to your conversation.

“I don’t entirely understand the conversation between you and Gojo, but if I have somehow disrespected you I offer my deepest apologies.” Nanami’s voice was soft. Your heart ached as you realized how bad your words must have appeared to him.

“I’m so sorry. It’s not about you. You’ve done nothing..” You trailed off as you saw the tall curse eating man walk outside with a sly smile on his lips.

“That’s a relief but if I may be so blunt, I have a hunch that there is something bothering you,” Nanami said.

You looked at him and chewed your lower lip nervously. This was all their fault. If they had not done what they did, you would not be in this position. The least they could have done is to keep the names of people you know out of their mouths.

“I’m sorry to leave you hanging like this, but can we finish this conversation later?” You hurried past him, only hearing Nanami mumble the word ‘sure’ like a kicked puppy and you said goodbye to Shoko agreeing on staying in touch with her.

The corridor was almost empty as you walked through the school building frantically searching for that bastard of a man. Your footsteps echoed on the wood as you arrived at a not so well known exit of the building. Geto stood in front of the dual doors, half heartedly pushing it open as he furiously wrote something on his phone.

You yelled out his name, but he did not bother to react to you. You closed in on the man that was still standing back towards you. Anger surged in you as adrenaline made you braver than what you normally would be. You were supposed to just grab the ends of his hair that were sprawled across his back, but in the heat of the moment your impulse control had another lapse as you kept on raising your hand. A fist closed around the bun that had been carefully crafted on his scalp and you dug your fingers around the hair tie and then yanked, hard.

“What the hell are you doing?!” He turned around stepping out of the doorway letting it close properly with a thump and he closed the distance between you for good. His eyes shot daggers at you.

“You did not pay attention to me.” You shook your hand out of the spare strands that were stuck on your palm and offered the small hair tie back to him.

“Well you got it now,” he hissed. “You can keep that as a souvenir. I don’t want anything that a filthy bitch like you has touched,” he said, the calm composure nowhere in sight.

A filthy bitch? Really? Then maybe you should break up with Satoru if this is your deal breaker.. That’s what you wanted to say, but you held back your tongue.

Geto took a deep breath, calming himself down, slipping on the mask that you were more used to seeing. He put his phone back in his pocket.

“What do you want?”

“You told me,” you started, tears threatening to flow over. “You told me that I can just leave and do whatever I want. Why do you keep tormenting me? Why do you let Gojo do what he does?” Your voice broke as you started crying openly. You hated it, it made you weak. No. You were weak.

“Firstly, I’m not his guardian. He can do what he wants.” He sounded like a smartass.

“Second of all, never. And I repeat. Never, lay a hand on me ever again, especially on my hair.” You rolled your eyes.

Of course it was the hair that ticked him off completely. It was his crown, the only thing he had ever been able to take care of besides Satoru. Suguru loved to flaunt himself as the calm one, the kind one, but the exterior had always had some cracks in it. No amount of paint was able to hide the rotten wall behind it.

“I can forgive your outburst at Satoru’s, but now that you’re in your right mind, you won’t get second chances.”

“I don’t want ‘second chances’. I want you to leave me the fuck alone so I can do my job,” you yelled at him.

“Lower your voice. Or do you want to air out all the dirty laundry for everyone?” Geto hushed you.

“It’s not my ‘laundry’, it’s fucking yours!” You roared and tears fell down your cheeks blurring your vision. Your face felt hot as it got wrapped in the wrath of your words.

Geto did not answer you, instead he chose to stare you down, not moving at all as if he was a statue. He looked like a child throwing a tantrum when things did not go his way, his face contorting to a sneer that could challenge any rich spoiled brat. You panted and wiped your face with the rough backside of your palm.

“Move.”

“Ladies first,” he snickered childishly and kicked open the heavy door with his foot as he stepped slightly to the side. God this man hangs out too much with Gojo.

As you left the school grounds barely holding your breakdown away, there was one figure in the corridors hugging the wall near the exit, clutching onto her purse.

***

SHOKO’S MEMORIES, 2006

“Truth or dare?” Satoru asked, popping the pink bubblegum in the air, sucking the sticky material back in his mouth to chew on loudly.

“Truth,” Shoko said, placing another cigarette in her mouth. She smoked especially heavily when she was drinking.

Satoru had managed to bring a whole six pack of beer to the picnic whereas Suguru had found a travel size vodka bottle from his parents. Shoko had brought a package of different berries and salty crackers with her.

“If you could have any technique in the world, which one would you have?” Satoru asked. He looked at the clear blue sky and the way the summer breeze pushed on the white clouds.

Shoko played with the corner of the blanket as she thought deeply about his question. She stared at the shoes she had placed on the grass and the manicure on her toes that Utahime had insisted on putting on her.

“I think I’d keep this one,” she smiled wistfully.

“Really? You wouldn’t want my powers?” Satoru looked at her tilting his head to the side. He spat out the chewing gum and placed it on the plastic lid that belonged to the packaging of berries. He did not like it when things ran out of flavor, always searching for something more.

“No. I don’t envy you at all. I just want a happy life and that’s all” Shoko answered his gaze, with a gentle smile. “Besides, I like the way I am and I suppose I can help people like this,” she added.

Satoru hummed. He was clearly dissatisfied with the answer.

He did not exactly know why.

“Satoru, that's sad. You should ask something fun,” Suguru pointed out and took a sip from the beer can.

The three of them sat on a grassy hill that had a pretty decent view of the city and the park below it. Shoko leaned against the huge tree behind her back. The cicadas were performing their own concert with the hum of motorways working as their orchestra.

“You figure out better questions then,” Satoru pouted, but wasn’t actually hurt.

“Isn’t it my turn to ask though?”

Shoko looked in the distance watching closely how a woman jogged with her shiba inu, her ponytail swishing in the same rhythm as the chord of her headphones. Both men nodded slightly out of sync.

“Satoru truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Who’s the hottest person you know?” Her eyes twinkled teasingly.

“Waka Inoue of course. She’s sexy as hell!” Satoru slapped his hand on his heart as if he was saluting.

“Really? You still have a crush on her?” Suguru questioned. It was his turn to pout. “Am I not enough?”

“Baby you’re plenty, but you can’t replace a huge rack,” Satoru’s voice was steady as if he was talking about the most important thing in the whole world.

“I can’t argue with that.” Suguru sighed defeatedly, his shoulders slumping down dramatically.

“Ugh. I shouldn’t have asked that. Both of you are so weird and gross about women,” Shoko grimaced regretting her decisions and lifted the cigarette to her mouth as if to cover the bad taste of Satoru’s words.

The man in sunglasses ignored the criticizing words. “Suguru. Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“I dare you to share this,” Satoru lifted up a huge strawberry. “Like in Lady and the Tramp with Shoko,” he referred to the scene where the two dogs shared a spaghetti meal, eventually kissing.

“That’s too small!” Shoko protested immediately, shaking her head. The idea of doing that with Suguru made her feel iffy.

“I’m game if she is,” Suguru said and offered his palm to Satoru who plopped the berry in his hands.

Shoko had a nervous giggle come out of her.

“C’mon, it’s just a game. You can always let go after like one bite. This is truth or dare afterall,” Satoru coaxed.

“Fine. But I won’t kiss you, not even a peck.” Shoko established her own rule and rolled her eyes. She put out the cigarette on the grass and left the butt there.

“We’ll see about that,” Suguru laughed and picked at the stem that got thrown over next to the chewed up gum.

He awkwardly came closer to the young female student and placed the bigger end between his lips. He looked silly, the red end peeking out of his mouth. Suguru attempted at mouthing the words ‘come closer’, but neither Satoru or Shoko understood his words but the context clue carried the point to Shoko.

She got on her knees sitting on top of her legs and straightened herself out. Suguru was way taller than her, even when he sat. Her face approached Suguru’s who had a pink tint on his cheeks from the alcohol he had drank.

She opened her mouth and barely bit down on the smaller end, her tongue touching the bumpy texture of the strawberry.

“Ready. Set. Go!” Satoru exclaimed, motioning finger guns happily. His gaze was completely glued on his two friends.

Suguru closed his eyes and he started to carefully nibble, closing dangerously on Shoko’s lips. She bit quickly, not really tasting anything and began to pull away in hopes of Suguru calling it quits too.

Unfortunately she wasn’t fast enough. The last bits of strawberry fell down on Shoko’s lap when Suguru pressed his lips against hers, a faint red trail dripping on her chin. She didn’t move and her eyes widened in shock. Shoko didn’t know what to do so she just held her hands on her lap.

Suguru pet gently behind the girl’s head kissing her motionless lips. His hand trailed down to her neck and all the way to her shoulder. Shoko felt the sweet taste in her mouth mixing with the alcohol, stranger’s saliva and nicotine as Suguru dragged his hand to the mound of her breast. The warmth emanating from his palm was enough to bring her back to reality and Shoko pushed the bigger guy off of her.

“Why did you do that?” she snapped and crossed her arms.

“Oh don’t get angry now. Have a drink and chill out.” Satoru sighed. He shuffled awkwardly and placed the almost empty tote bag on his lap and grabbed a new beer can from there. Shoko narrowed her eyes in suspicion, but did not want to make room for any weird thoughts that would imply even weirder things. “It’s just a joke.”

“This is not the first time you take jokes too far.”

Shoko looked away from the two boys, disappointment turning into an ache in her heart and wiped her chin clean from the strawberry. She slipped on the ballerinas laying on the ground.

“Seriously? You’re leaving because of this?” Suguru tilted his head, his voice defensive.

Shoko threw her cigarettes and lighter in her own purse checking the blanket for other stuff she had.

“Yeah, I am. I’m not having fun anymore.” Her voice was cold as she was attempting to hide the nervous tremble in her body and almost jumped up throwing the bag on her shoulder. She turned around, once again crossing her hands against her chest as if to protect herself and started walking.

“Hey! Don’t you want your blanket with you?” Satoru yelled after her. The two guys sat on the quilt completely bamboozled.

“Keep it! I don’t need it!”

She didn’t eat strawberries for the rest of the summer.

***

“Hey you really should sing this one!” Shoko laughed as she scrolled through the song list.

“Whaat? No that’s not even funny,” you laughed and slapped her arm gently.

“Is it really not? Or are you just a bore?” Shoko taunted getting ready to put the song on.

“Can we sing something from this?” You pointed at the category called 2000’s hits.

“I’ll pick something at random and you’re just going to deal with it,” Shoko laughed clearly tipsy too after the multiple drinks you both had drank.

The disco ball was spinning around the small room painting the walls in hues of blue, red and green. Nanami sat on the couch nursing his whiskey as he stared off into space. The upbeat music filled the room, bass shaking the ground underneath your feet.

It was the first time going out after the events at Gojo’s house. Shoko had basically begged you to come with her to get shit faced complaining that she really needed someone to rant with. You told her that Utahime was right there and would probably love to listen to her, but she claimed that the woman from Kyoto had other plans for the weekend.

After arriving at the karaoke bar you had been taken back after seeing the stoic blonde man at the venue. You weighed the option of immediately leaving in your head, but your conscience did not allow you to do so, after leaving him so rudely hanging in the meeting. When the three of you had gotten your own private room you decided to immediately order shots and drinks with the only goal of getting absolutely black out drunk tonight despite having Nanami there.

It was honestly rare to see him after work as he had preferred to keep his distance. He was wearing the same clothing he always wore, dress shirt ironed, necktie perfectly hanging against his chest as if he was on the clock. You wouldn’t have been surprised if he were to whip out a cursed tool onto the bar table.

You clutched onto the microphone singing unevenly as you danced to the beat, half of the syllables disappearing to you being out of breath. Shoko cackled, almost folding over as she kept slapping her thigh eyes watering. She had drunk a few drinks less than you and she had been exceptionally happy even before drinking. Truthfully Shoko was quite a heavy drinker and she definitely should not have been as wasted as what she appeared to be.

Nanami stared at the both of you, raising the whiskey glass to his lips after checking his wrist watch.

“Come here! Sing with us!” You yelled to the mic only getting a slightly alarmed expression out of him as he shook his head.

“I think I’m okay with watching you two perform,” he said.

You pouted but kept on singing, your concentration skills nonexistent. You did not notice the way Shoko glared at him, nudging her head towards you as she pointed the microphone in her hand towards him.

Nanami cleared his throat under the threatening gaze and clumsily got up.

“Oh my god! Nanamiii!” You screamed the noise so high pitched that even the speakers were unable to handle it and you could see how Nanami cringed at the sound.

Shoko squinted her eyes and mouthed the word sing to Nanami. Shoko was not going to deal with you alone.

The combination of the pop song and Nanami’s voice made you giggle as you hurrayed him happily. He was not a bad singer by any means, but his voice did not fit the song choice. You wondered to yourself, why had you not gotten shitfaced earlier when you had all the good reasons to.

Shoko decided to take a small break sitting on the spot where Nanami had been earlier and inspected the brown liquid swishing in the glass. She stole a sip from it when Nanami wasn’t watching, not really caring about the fact that it wasn’t her drink.

You grabbed your drink from the table and drank from it and you kept on singing happily, almost jumping around. Nanami looked at you with a terrified expression when you moved side to side with the drink spilling on your hand, but you did not notice the wetness of it.

“Hey, put that down before you drop the glass,” Nanami said and gently tried to take the glass from you.

“No, I want to keep this,” a pout formed on your face but you still did what he told and turned around swiftly to place the drink on the counter. Your vision was blurry, the lights slightly too bright and you lost your balance tipping over the glass that was already safely on the table. You felt yourself starting to fall but a strong arm snaked around your waist to stabilize you.

The world felt like it was stopping when the arm around you changed into a tight rope that pressed around your ribcage. The karaoke room changed inch by inch to a vast room with a wall made of windows with a night view of the streets of Tokyo. The shattered drink turned into a broken light bulb on the floor. You felt a hot breath on your skin, but your body had gotten cold. It was as if you had been dunked into ice water, all the earlier excitement completely vanished. The disco ball spun around casting blue lights on the white haired man’s face that ogled you like a piece of meat. The imagery was so vivid and real in your mind that you reacted on instinct, elbowing the man behind you.

The rope vanished around you as the windows melted to the concrete floor, the shadows of city lights turned back to the tacky illumination of the disco ball. You felt the remnants of cursed energy fizzing out like a soda can as your eyes landed on Nanami, who was slightly hunched over holding onto his side the pain making him grimace. You had no idea how much force you had actually used, but probably quite a lot judging by the way Nanami was reacting.

Shoko stood there completely still, eyes filled to the brim with worry and confusion. Her lips were ajar and she gulped down wanting to say something, but she did not know what.

“My apologies. I didn't mean to touch you inappropriately,” Nanami managed to say. The music track played in the background, but it felt empty without a drunken voice guiding it. He was lucky to have good reflexes, instinctually protecting himself from the blow, otherwise Shoko would have had a patient off the clock.

“Uh,” Your mouth gaped at him hopelessly. He had done nothing wrong.

“I’ll go for a cigarette,” you blurted out and left the room hurriedly. The long hallway stretched in front of your eyes as you looked at the numbers on karaoke booths, only muted colors flashing through the slightly translucent doors. You leaned on the wall as you dragged your feet forward arriving at the front desk that thanked you for your time, but you did not pay attention to them and turned to your left to stare at the steep stairway.

The steps were made out of wood with a black paint that had started to chip away and the walls were pure red, too bright and intense for your eyes. You focused on the door in front of you and barely saw the red walls around it as they got covered by a dark cloud, your way of seeing more animalistic than human.The only thing in your mind was the need to get some fresh air as emotions threw you around like a shipwreck at the sea.

You pushed the door open and walked over to a bicycle stand choosing an empty spot where you plopped yourself on. You rocked yourself back and forth as you cried and gripped onto your skin painfully hoping that at least the physical sensation would put an end to your suffering. You started to be more aware of the familiar banging against your skull.

The door of the karaoke bar opened as Shoko walked outside, her face now serious, resembling more the woman she was at work than the friend giggling at drunk people's jokes.

“Hey. You forgot this inside.” She handed you your bag.

You wanted to answer something but you could not as the words got stuck to your throat. Your world flashed back and forth between sensations that you weren’t supposed to feel in this moment. The guilt and sadness ate you alive, nipping away from your vitals the more you tried to push them down.

Shoko placed a cigarette between her lips and lit it up and offered it to you. You took it gladly off her hands inhaling the sweet smoke, but you almost ended up suffocating on it as your nose was too stuffed to handle it. Even the menthol taste was unable to help you with this issue. Shoko opened the green box once more to get herself a smoke as well.

She took a drag out of it and watched your shuddering figure.

“I saw you in the hallway with Geto. Something happened at Gojo’s right?”

You lifted your head up mascara running on your cheeks. Had you not been in such a bad state her words would have shocked you.

“I can’t help you if you don’t want my help.” Shoko crouched down to your level. You stared at her face as she left out a puff of smoke that trailed around her face, the dark eye bags now more visible than ever.

You choked on your tears once more, now openly wailing on the pavement your fingers digging into the soft flesh of your arm. You dragged your nails across yourself leaving pink trails behind it, the soft tingle covering the areas you had just clawed at.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you cried, your words hard to decipher as your breath hitched. “I can’t keep on doing this. It’s all my fault. I’m so stupid,” you screamed snot falling onto your shirt.

“So fucking stupid!” You impulsively pressed the cigarette butt against your thigh melting the cloth away the stinging pain shocking you as your skin shed its layers against the fire.

You had no shame in your breakdown, frankly you did not even recognize the others that looked in your way speaking with hushed voices around you, as they tightened the grip on their partners hands. “That girl really needs to lay off the drinks,” someone had said loudly. Shoko had wanted to immediately pounce, but she held herself together. She knew that you needed her more.

“Don’t hurt yourself, when you want to hurt someone else,” her voice was just a whisper. “Can I touch you?” She asked not wanting to trigger you further. You nodded.

Shoko pulled you into a tight hug and you buried your face on her chest, holding onto her like it was the last thing keeping you afloat. You seeked comfort in her presence.

“I want to die.” You gripped onto her tighter. “I’m so weak.”

Shoko stroked your hair, her own eyes watering as she listened to you wordlessly. She felt your pain almost just as viscerally as you were experiencing them now.

“No matter… no matter what I do. I can’t escape them. I just want to be gone. I want to-”

Shoko shushed you and slipped her free hand into her pocket, digging out her phone. Almost ten minutes had gone by. She awkwardly opened her chat with Nanami trying to inform the man who was probably still sitting in their booth waiting for the two of you to come back.

A male voice disturbed the two of you. “Is everything okay?”

Shoko pressed her hand on your shoulder pushing herself up from the ground, she whispered to you to stay put, not that you really were in any condition to go anywhere.

“Good that you’re here. I was just about to text you. Can you get us a taxi?”

“Of course,” he said and opened the app punching in your address that Shoko forwarded to him. He looked so much older and out of place in the busy street.

This was the kind hearted and lovely Nanami that had forgiven you immediately, after you had punched him in the gut because you were fucked up in the head. The kind hearted and lovely Nanami that you couldn’t look in the eyes, because of a certain man whose name you felt like acid on the tip of your tongue. The thoughts in your head brought fresh tears to your eyes. You dangerously sailed in the deep waters of suicidal ideation, your tired hands opening the forbidden door.

“It’s going to arrive in five minutes,” Nanami hummed.

“I think you should go. I’ll handle this,” Shoko said, her voice full of pity. “I’ll keep you posted.”

Nanami nodded in agreement.

“For what it’s worth, take care of yourself too.” Nanami’s words were carefully chosen, anticipating that you weren’t the only one who needed a hug.

***

SHOKO’S MEMORIES, YEAR 2006

The beach was filled with people who enjoyed the way the sun spoiled them with its warmth. Shoko was sitting on a towel next to Mei Mei who applied generous amounts of sunscreen on her hand. They sat underneath a parasol that had been propped in the sand, covering them both from the direct sun. The brown haired girl watched as Utahime excitedly threw herself to the water. She had given up on trying to get Shoko and Mei Mei in the water as well.

“Mei Mei, don’t you have a lot of experience with boys?” Shoko almost whispered and hugged her legs. Her beach shawl swayed when the breeze decided to start playing with the huge piece of cloth.

“Are you trying to imply something?” Her voice was low and melodic but not at all accusatory.

“No, nothing like that. I just wanted to ask you something.” Shoko shook her head flustered. “Is it normal for a guy to kiss a girl without asking?”

Mei Mei burst into laughter. This was the question Shoko was getting all worked up for?

“Shoko,” Mei Mei’s eyes glimmered softly when she said the younger girl’s name with gentleness that reminded her of a mother tugging a child into bed. “I did not take you for being this innocent,” she teased.

“I’m not innocent,” the brown haired girl huffed with the unexpected blush decorating her cheeks.

“Did someone do that to you?” Mei Mei tilted her head curiously and offered the sunscreen bottle to Shoko who happily took it to her hands.

“If I tell you, will you promise that you won’t tell anyone?”

“If I’m honest, I don’t think I care enough to tattle. You got me curious now. Tell me,” she hummed as a smile curled on her lips.

“Well uh.. Suguru kind of kissed me when we were playing truth or dare with Satoru,” Shoko explained . She ran her hand between the warm sand, the grainy texture giving her something else to think about. “It was a stupid dare on Satoru’s part. Dunno why I accepted it.”

Shoko added that she did not want to kiss him under any circumstances but the boy had managed to go over her boundary with ease.

“That’s it?” Mei Mei asked, raising her eyebrow. She was almost bewildered at how tame the story was.

“Yeah.”

The blue haired woman scoffed.

“Guys think that girls like it when they take control and in a certain sense they are right. Maybe they got their eyes on you? Although, I did think that Suguru and Satoru were..” Mei Mei’s voice trailed off as she thought. “It doesn’t matter.” She concluded.

“If I were you. I’d go along with it.” Mei Mei suggested.

“No way. I don’t like them like that. Besides that’s not what I asked for your opinion on.”

“And?” Mei Mei turned her gaze on Shoko, her eyes hardening as she intensely stared at the younger girl. “Those two men are our generation’s strongest and you’re going to complain that one of them gave you a little kiss?”

Mei Mei’s melodic voice dropped lower as she showed her true feelings of distaste towards Shoko’s views.

“If I were you,” she started again, her voice tough and bitter. “I’d be securing my spot by their side and not planning to bring forth meaningless accusations over a game of truth or dare.”

Shoko was at loss with the things that were being said to her. Now that she thought about it, maybe it wasn’t the best idea to speak with Mei Mei.

“I did not say I was going to tell anyone,” her voice was squeaky like a little girl’s.

“But you thought about that right?” Shoko did not deny nor confirm the accusation.

Mei Mei’s face softened. “Shoko, you’re a smart girl. You should know better than to get shaken by two boys, especially when you so eagerly lead them on.“

“..I don’t lead them on.”

“Then stop meeting them in your spare time. If you do that, guys will think that you’re willing. You’re not a kid anymore, they do notice that you’re a woman now.”

She stayed quiet, Mei Mei’s words burning on her skin worse than the summer heat. She did not want guys thinking about her that way. She simply wanted to be their friend and the idea of boys and girls being unable to do that because of bodily differences made Shoko shudder.

“You want to help your friends, right?” Mei Mei asked when Utahime got out of the water.

Shoko nodded.

“Then become a doctor. That’s the best you can do to others with the technique you have.” Her words were probably meant to be comforting, but they made Shoko’s heart sink to the bottom of the ocean.

“Shookoo!” Utahime ran towards the two girls sitting on the beach towels.

“Are you willing to swim now?” Sand and water droplets clung onto her radiant skin that the younger girl admired silently. Shoko felt her heart skip a few times in her chest when Utahime offered her hand to her.

“Sure.” The shy smile stretched on Shoko’s lips.

“I’ll stay here. But you guys have fun.” Mei Mei announced as she opened the book next to her the pages slightly crumpled up.

Shoko did not really register Mei Mei’s voice anymore. She grabbed Utahime’s hand and the world slowly faded away around them.

****

Shoko went through the bathroom nimbly avoiding piles of clothing or takeout bags as she looked through your bathroom cupboard. She found a bag of half used cotton pads and a micelar water from the mess.

The taxi drive had felt like eternity. Your tears had dried before settling in the car and numbness had taken over. Shoko helped you to your bed and said that she’d come back soon, closing the door behind her giving you some space to change into something more comfortable.

The door opened. Shoko looked at you and sat on the bed. You were using a pillow as a support for your back. The night lamp’s warm color casted shadows around your puffy face. The woman shook the bottle in her hand and poured liquid on the white cotton pad and tilted your face towards hers.

She pressed the pad on your eyelid carefully letting the mixture soak through the heaps of makeup on your face. You sniffled sadly before speaking.

“I can do this on my own too.”

“I want to do this,” her voice was soft as she spoke the makeup remover leaving your skin slightly cold. You simply nodded and admired the way her hair framed her face.

“You know I’ve had my own bad experiences too,” Shoko said, her face turning to a slight frown. Her mind was sailing in memories that she had given up on trying to understand.

You were at a loss of words. You wanted to pry, but it felt invasive.

“With them? Really?” You heard yourself asking as you danced on the line of impropriety.

“Yeah,” Shoko hummed, “but we shouldn’t have this conversation yet. Maybe in the morning, but not now,” she tried to make her voice sound brighter, feel brighter as if it would fix everything.

“Okay,” you said. Maybe she’s right about this. Shoko discarded the dirty cotton pad, simply placing it on the bedside table. It was at its limits the whole thing turned into the color of your foundation with the small black streaks of your mascara on it, or what was left from it.

She held onto your face gently for a moment too long even after she was done. You opened your eyes to really look at her. She looked so sad and.. young? Yes young was the right word. She looked like a woman robbed out of something sacred. She had been so happy, so easy to excite in her youth, but now all she seemed to carry was baggage.

Your drunken mind wanted to close the distance, but something held you back. Maybe it was all the answers that were still being withheld by her, maybe it was the understanding that it’s not the right time yet.

“Can you stay the night?” you whispered. Shoko breathed in and opened her mouth to say something, but you were faster. “Please? Th-there’s some clothes you can borrow in my closet.”

She stayed quiet and you waited patiently.

“I’ll stay.”

You smiled weakly at her and muttered a gentle thank you. She shuffled up from the bed and walked over the closet you had pointed for her. You turned your back to her when you heard the rustling of clothing that she ended up piling up neatly on one of the spare chairs in your bedroom.

You fluffed up the pillow next to you and lifted up the blanket when she climbed in. You turned your back to her as you lay down on your side. Your hand searched the light switch and then the room was pitch black.

Shoko awkwardly came closer to you till your back was against hers and she played with your hair idly in the silence. The touch was friendly, your body slumping in relaxation almost immediately. It was nice to have someone there. You had gotten so used to being afraid of the nights.

“Good night,” she said, her voice hoarse.

“Night.”

***

You woke up alone with no trace of the woman in your room. She had gotten up earlier than you and dressed up back to the clothes she had in the bar. You hugged your plush blanket, almost burying your whole face underneath it, not ready to face the day.

Your head hurt and you felt nauseous. How is Shoko even able to do things? You wondered to yourself.

The faint knock on the bedroom door disrupted your thoughts as the door opened slightly.

“I made a sandwich for you and found some painkillers, if you want any,” she said and you heard her steps further away again.

You groaned and threw the blanket away from your body, the cold greeting you roughly.

Your kitchen had gotten miraculously cleaner, the multiple empty beer cans piled in a bag and the dishwasher hummed quietly. You stared at the brown table in front of you that had two sandwiches and glasses of water on it, hunger long gone from your body.

“You really should drink less.” Shoko picked up another empty can from the counter just to place it in the bag.

“Like you’re the one to talk.” You sat on the chair with its legs squeaking against the floor with your rough treatment.

You grabbed the pill bottle and rattled out two tablets that you threw in your mouth and drank barely enough water to chase them down.

“What do you remember?” Shoko asked and sat in front of you. She wasn’t feeling very hungry either.

“I remember punching Nanami and the talk we had before we fell asleep,” you mumbled, playing with the edges of the slightly crusty lettuce between your sandwich. You had meant to use it on a salad a few days ago, but you were too tired to cook for yourself. Even the simple things were hard. “What did I tell you?”

“Nothing. You were just crying.”

Oh. So it was like that.

“They assaulted me.” Your face was stern, emotions hidden behind a wall. The words felt weird. It was the first time you had actually said it out loud.

Shoko’s face widened from shock.

“They what?”

“Don’t make me repeat it,” you hissed.

“Sorry, I won’t.”

The silence felt unbearable and you stuffed your face full of bread just to do something.

“They did something similar when we were still in school.” Shoko ripped the hangnail painfully from her skin and pressed on the miniscule wound with one of her fingers.

You chewed the sandwich aggressively without tasting anything, the texture turning to mush in your mouth.

“Why didn’t you warn me?” Your words were way more accusatory than what you wanted.

Shoko turned her head to the side looking hurt by your sudden outburst. Her eyebrows scrunched together in pain as she looked for the perfect words, but there were none.

“You admired them. I didn’t want to take that away from you, and when I realized that I probably should have said..”

“Bullshit, Shoko. It’s been ten years. I deserved to know, you could have-”

“Stop blaming me for their shit!” she yelled. Shoko never yells.

You fell quiet. You reined in your anger, its hands still attempting to reach out to anything it could latch on. She was right. It’s not her burden to bear, but you still couldn’t help but feel powerless, when there could have theoretically been someone who could have told you to not go there.

“Sorry,” you simply said just to drop the topic. Shoko sighed defeatedly and pushed her head briefly against her hands. She understood the anger, she really did.

“They drugged me and then raped me together. I don’t remember a lot from it. I fought back – well attempted to,” your voice shook as you spoke.

The brown haired woman simply looked at you with silent empathy.

“Did you at least get one good punch in?”

Your lips curled into a downhearted smile. The memory of your feeble fight playing in your mind, the weakness and despair of it all, a futile attempt of a prey to preserve their life just one moment longer.

“Not a single one,” you laughed hollowly as one tear rolled on your cheek and your lips trembled. “But I did rip some hair out of Geto at the school,” you tried to brighten your voice and be brave.

Shoko’s eyes watered and she answered your smile with her own.

“Good.”

The almost happy expression faded from your face. Everything hurt, never had you ever thought to be in a situation like this where you were exchanging devastation with your friend like gifts on christmas.

“Why did you stay? Even Nanami left for a while, you could have done the same.” Your question was gentler this time.

Shoko pondered for a minute, not sure of her answer either.

“Because this is the only way I could help. I had you and Utahime and I didn’t want to leave you two behind. Besides what else was I supposed to do? I’ve been given a technique that can save many if I choose right. Had I left a lot more could have died because I wasn’t here — all because of what two men did,” she tried to put her thoughts together.

“There’s a reason why Utahime doesn’t like Gojo,” Shoko blurted out and played with her hair.

You took a careful sip of water as if you were trying to carefully dissect the different flavors of Shoko’s words.

“What do you mean? Did they do something to her as well?”

“No. I just mean that women know, you know? I think it’s in our blood to recognize danger. That’s one of the reasons she despises him. But this is just my thought, not an universal truth,” Shoko wondered out loud.

She breathed in once again as if the words she was about to speak were too painful.

“I think sometimes us women have to carry the atrocities of men. There’s no rhyme or reason why they do certain things. At least that’s what I’ve been telling myself. I never went through what you did, but I can’t say that I’m surprised,” she mused. “I’m sorry though. What you went through. It’s not right.”

Her brown eyes stared at you expectantly. You chewed on your lip nervously and tapped the empty plate with your nail, the small tinkle sound working as a metronome.

“No, it’s not,” you huffed. But it feels like it’s my fault. If I had not gone there, if I had not idolized them – loved them even. This wouldn’t have ended this way. It was easier to leave those words in your head.

“So what now?” You looked at Shoko, your eyes pleading, asking for answers, guidance, anything she would be able to provide to you. You knew there was nothing clear cut Shoko could say, but god how you wished that someone would know what to do.

Shoko shook her head in defeat as if telling you that she wasn’t able to point you on the right track like that.

“Whatever you want. You can stay or go, but you don’t have to carry it alone,” Shoko said, her face gentle. You could still draw out the remnants of the young girl from the year two thousand and six on her features. The lines were almost faded but they were still there.

You found kinship in her even if neither of you had shared the full story of what had happened. You weren’t there yet and you weren’t ready. Instead the two of you skirted around words unspoken finding solace of at least having someone who could understand. It was up to the both of you what to make out of the confessions of the past.

#tw: noncon #shoko ieiri x reader #ieiri shoko x reader #yandere gojo satoru #yandere geto suguru

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takiki16 · 5 months

Note

Hey so I am starting to get into Jupiter Ascending fandom (a couple years late but what can I say). I was thinking of writing a fic. Do you have any resources for JA extra information?

Thanks in advance. Also I am loving your fic (it's how I started getting into the fandom lololol). can't wait to reread!!!

HOOOOOOO BOY!!!!

I'm paging @bemusedlybespectacled, @gallifreyburning, @vr-trakowski, @sorrelchestnut, @florentinequill, @fuckyeahjupiterascending, @vrabia, and honestly ANYONE ELSE who wants to chime in here, bc HOOOOOOO BOY!

(I made that sweet puppy in fucking 2015 on my dying laptop in the travel study dorm in DC, JUPITER ASCENDING HOW I LOVE THEE)

The eternal fucking tragedy of Jupiter Ascending is that the wider world doesn't love it like we do. Does it have every single thing that turns my crank, id-wise? Sure! Does it have gorgeous over-the-top sequined costumes and extravagant set pieces that remind you at every minute that this movie specially thanked Swarovski Crystal in the credits? Sure! Does it have theeeee single most pinpoint reading of MY PERSONAL FEMALE GAZE that Channing Tatum has ever done? (sorry mister Magic Mike, but you do not even come CLOSE to "may I kill him?" in terms of sexy) SURE! Was this movie a commercial or critical success? Absolutely not 😔

There isn't, as far as I'm aware, an art book. There isn't an official novelization. There isn't even an actual script posted to the usual internet databases that isn't just an automatic shitty talk-to-text rendition of the movie dialogue. There are concept art paintings and old cast interviews floating around, and this auction website where the Wachowskis auctioned off some of the props from the movie, but as far as canon resources and extra material beyond the movie itself there isn't much. A quick duckduckgo search would probably be more helpful to you than anything else, if any of the websites still have the articles up - it WAS eight years ago, and doesn't that just break my fucking heart.

My corner of tumblr LOVED this movie. In 2015, there were TONS of posts gathering interviews, posting concept art, making cosplays, all the signs of a small but healthy fandom ecosystem. However, we call this the blue hellsite for a reason - not all of those resources are still there, and the ones that survived time and incompetent archival site coding are probably difficult to find. I would definitely recommend trawling the JA tags of all the blogs I tagged at the start of this post, as JA introduced me to two of my longest and most beloved of all mutuals. ALL of their insights were key to A Fine Chain.

There is also my own jupiter ascending tag and my more specific jupiter ascending meta tag, although I don't know how bored you are lol. The general JA tag is 105 pages - I would almost recommend just starting at page 105 and working forward from there since it chronicles my descent into kinky space angel werewolf brain rot pretty nicely. There are also my ao3 bookmarks for JA.

I WILL SAY that it has been 8 years, and I have changed into a very different person than the one I was when I first saw this movie. I don't REGRET the first few chapters of A Fine Chain, or any of my breathless meta posts, but I do think that if I were to write any of them over again, I'd hope that my writing style has matured and I'd have lots more extra material to draw from. Actually graduating from law school, writing long fic in another fandom, and generally percolating more as a person has given me lots of new perspectives on JA that make it more interesting even as I still enjoy it (for example, HBO's Succession is ODDLY RELEVANT and I wish there were more JA fanwriters to take advantage of that fact).

...I hope that was helpful? I will ETERNALLY mourn the fact that this fandom wasn't isn't bigger - we haven't even broken 1k on ao3! But EYE MYSELF am here to discuss JA stuff as long as this weird spurt of creative energy sustains me, and my inbox is always open!

#jupiter ascending #fandom #my posts #jupiter ascending meta #if NO ONE WILL LOVE YOU MY GLITTERY SPACE EXTRAVAGANZA I WILL LOVE YOU #was it perfect? no. was it a bit of a hot mess at times? yes. BUT DO I LOVE IT? HELL YEAH #long post

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shuckinbeanz · 1 year

Text

Ten Years-Warmth

warnings/notes: pls lmk in comments asks or dms if I'm missing any tws I'm lost on how to appropriately tw this and have no idea if it needs any but I can't shake the feeling it doesss? 😭 (I can't help but think OOC, definitely OOC)soft tristamp!Millions Knivesxhuman reader cuz that cloak tho 🥴🥺 if you seen him you probably already know what he is, so spoilers ahoy! we've proved time and time again he can trust us, but he's so very hesitant to let down his guard because he's afraid he'll break again 😭 as that barrier breaks, we find he's super touch starved despite his initial hesitance. Slow n steady wins the race! Told in his POV, brave bb inchin out of his comfort zone for us cuz he trusts us sm 🥺

after lots of debate I've decided to post this in parts bc i wanna feed sideblog dwellers too!

MINORS 👏 DNI! 👏 AGE 👏 IN 👏 BIO 👏 OR 👏 DNI! 👏 Head on over to @candybowbeansies please for my SFW pieces, or be blocked if you interact here! 😇

Tags: @dynamightsdaydream

For ten long years, you were there for him. You never looked away, you always forced yourself past the inconsequential, so-called limits of your lowly species. For him. And somewhere along, the insignificant you turned into something dear. You probably don't know this, but…he so desperately wanted to reciprocate. His heart and his brain warred with each other and his body.

It was very confusing, and even more complicated.

You were the only other human…he was willing to love. It was painstakingly slow but sure, and eventually, your fastidious efforts bore fruit.

Touch.

As revolting as the idea alone was, the moment he allowed your knuckle to graze against his jaw in a featherlight touch…it was equally, if not more so intoxicating.

It was also uncomfortable.

But he knew, if he showed that to you, you'd rear away in self resentment; hiding your desire to be touched, and more importantly, touch him beneath lock and key, out of your loyalty for him.

Yet he wanted more.

The look of pure awe in your eyes, as soft words pass your softer lips; of praise, worship, and limitless gratitude. He almost wanted to kiss them. Almost. Your other hand clutched desperately at the material you wore, evidence of your self restraint for his sake, your respect for his boundaries.

His gaze-somewhat judging-gives rise to your answer. "I want to touch you. I want to caress your cheek." you start, and he humors you with a raised brow. "Are you not doing that, already?" he mentions your knuckle, featherlight and sickeningly gentle against his jaw. You giggle, then. A sweet melody that makes his heart thrum in kind. "I want to run my fingers through your hair. I want to trace your ears, massage your broad shoulders…" you trail off, becoming shy at your own desires. "And…your strong arms…"

Even though his innate paranoia he built up over the years incessantly nagged at the edges of his consciousness; of losing, of being broken, of breaking anything precious to him…it did sound very tempting.

He doesn’t notice he’s moving, until his hand has found your wrist. You blink owlishly as he guides you, a rushed ‘Are you sure?’ spilling forth from you, worry evident in your tone and your tense form. For a brief moment, before your palm touches his cheek under his coaxing grip, he isn’t sure. But the moment it does, his body and his heart betray his brain as he leans into your warm palm and purrs.

Warmth.

The very thing he forsook to chase his ideals. Something that, for years, he'd sorely missed, prolonged stubborn abstinence numbing the craving. It hits him like a sandsteamer on overdrive.

It was a disgusting feeling, if he were to be honest, stemming from the fear of loss. If he accepted this touch, mindful of his being, only to lose it-to lose you, in the end, he'd break.

He'd break far, far beyond repair, everything you've worked so hard to mend torn right off like a bandaid, never to heal again.

He didn't want that.

Yet here he was, leaning into your touch and craving more. He yearned for it, down to his very vulnerable core, which threatened to hum to life in a very visible, vibrant hue just beneath his skin-quite literally.

It was rather humiliating for him, for every fiber of his being to be so easily highly reactive to you. He both hated it and loved it at the same, very confusing time.

He was still in denial that someone as great as him was so touch starved. But before he knew it, he'd dived right into your embrace, his weight sending you onto your back.

He let you experiment; your fingers just barely touching him, ready to move away at a moment's notice. He appreciated this, deeply-though he'd rather die than admit it.

Little by little, he'd slip out of his comfort zone, only for you. It will take time…but you are ever patient.

Slowly, his tension began to melt away, just as you bravely began on his hair, with touch still so careful.

He respected you. You've always done everything you could, solely for him.

Soon enough, it's too late; the unusual beckon of sleep tugs at his eyelids.

Maybe he likes you. Maybe…he's in love. But everything was still so confusing and so very complicated. So wait for him, just a little longer, and hopefully he can find the courage to accept it all.

#trigun stampede #millions knives #millions knives x reader #millions knives x you #trigun stampede millions knives x reader #knives x reader

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ultrvmonogamy · 6 months

Note

who is milk carton girl? and how do i become her?

sadly she is no one, but the tag relates to the fact that pictures of missing persons used to be put on the backs of milk cartons. idk when i started using it but it's just kind of an abstraction in my mind related to abduction/captivity/caretaker kink type stuff. i've tried to elaborate on it several times when asked, but unfortunately all of the old asks have been nuked along w the termed blogs they belonged to.

why would u wanna become someone if u didn't even know who they r, hmm? but srsly i'm too beat down on the romantic (or wtv) front (super appealing in itself, right?) to give u a v inspired answer at this point, but i can rattle off a few things that r important to me.

let's see: be an adult w a well-developed frontal lobe (this should be obvious but i have to say it first anyway bc if i don't then for some reason its absence is interpreted to mean i want the opposite, probably by the same sorts who call ppl antisemitic for daring to think that palestinian children on fire is an atrocity etc).

be respectful. love animals. value nature. embrace diversity. judge ppl by their merits and intent if reality finds u in a position where it makes sense for u to judge them at all. have an actual intrinsic need to address ur internal conditions. desire to forge something healthier than what u've known w all the unintegrated n jagged n broken bits of urself and to do so within a partnership built upon a foundation of honesty, loyalty, transparency, commitment, devotion n similar.

be perfectly okay w chill n boring (i'm a lot of that and will move swiftly away from overstimulation unless i have strong motivation to endure or participate in it, e.g. a concert i want to go to or an emergency like if ppl require assistance in a catastrophic event that i find myself in the middle of). on the other side of that coin, be someone who does not seek novelty in lieu of building something meaningful. be someone who does not need attention, affection, n validation from multiple external sources to the detriment of individual relationships. highly value shared solitude.

be someone who is not motivated by a desire to live a lavish lifestyle and even rather finds material excess oppressive on a personal level without even having first to consider the oppression of those suffering n dying in the shadows due to the exploitation required to make such things available to those who would indulge in them at any cost they do not personally have to pay.

be a good match for my sexual idiosyncrasies. be patient w intimacy. there's undoubtedly plenty more here n beyond, but i'm out of steam for the moment.

right now what i'd value n probably need most from someone if they're going to be a presence in my life is for them to be generally nice and to contribute to our shared reality as in a partnership. oh, and also for them to not want things from me that i cannot offer.

i'm not even rly sure if that's quite what u were asking, but it's definitely relevant.

also, n this is important here: get off anon asap if ur serious. i have come to the conclusion that the diagonal parasocial nature of one-side-anonymous discourse is such that essentially any rapport built under these conditions ends up amounting to damage that would need to be undone in order to move forward as two ppl who can see each other on the same terms.

i appreciate ur interest, n i hope ur having a nice saturday/sunday 🫶

#mail #anon #oc

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scenetocause · 7 months

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Twenty Questions for Fic Writers 💫

i got tagged by @verycoolwearsleather and now i have to pretend i have a writing process haha

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

it says 52 but there's actually a lot more due to orphaning/anon-ing things.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

345,519 but again i'm not sure how much tha's counting

3. What fandoms do you write for?

gross f1 twinks

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

just telling it like it is (lando/maxv)

pretty sure this is just cus it's the oldest fic i have since the account reboot because it absolutely does not merit being anywhere near the top 10 lol it's just a 5+1 about other mando being obvious (it's anon'd cus i got bored of a load of my fics and didn't want them as part of the emptyhalf canon anymore)

every colour illuminates (george/lando)

for something i started writing offhand cus some of my friends were saying there should be more trans men in f1 fic, this one sure grew legs. i'm still insanely moved by the comments it gets and the way it seemed to resonate with people. i'm not sure i can really convey how dumb i actually am in a way that'd make people believe me but i really did just write this on vibes and it's one of the things i can say i'm genuinely glad i did. idk, it's just queer porn really but maybe we need more of that.

(i) just wanna get a little bit closer (mando)

you know i don't even think this is close to my best mando fic (personal choice is no plans of staying on) so there's no accounting for taste and you absolutely should practice death of the author or whatever. anyway, it's mando cohabitation era boundary breakdown stuff where they fuck and then go on a date about it.

shoreline i see when i'm off course (loscar, mando)

people rly are thirsty for a/b/o huh. how'd this little fic get into the top five so quickly?

the usual, upside down (alex/george/lando)

literally THEE most head empty omegaverse threesome fic in history y'all are horny as fuck. it literally only got written bc george did some dumb insta post where he called lando and alex his mates and also then was walking around looking horny af in the black fireproofs and mask when he stood in for lewis. there is NO nutritional content here even by the fast food standards of emptyhalf fic.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

i uh. i should. i would like to but my brain is quite severely broken. i do read them all and i bookmark a lot in open tabs to come back to and reply to because they mean a lot but then i have 6000 tabs open and no executive function.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

we don't do that here. i guess maybe if you dig into the far distant past then it was probably i'm not just a fuck up, i'm the fuck up you love which is 18k words of jev not really getting over daniel that ends on a sort of optimistically blasted-open note.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

most of them are happy but probably actually pick me up, no headlights where george and max end up with their weird little family worked out and the kids are doing well, y'know

8. Do you get hate on fics?

no i don't think enough people read them to beef me lol

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

hahahaha oh yea. i like to think i write something along the lines of realistic queer sex, with the way that means it's mostly kind of funny and sometimes awakward and isn't elegant or arch or even particularly romantic except that you're getting to do it with the person you do it with. writing lando and oscar being straight with each other, even if it's in a cringe fail way, made me realise i really do not write straight people and i feel a bit like one of those painfully hetero actors who does a gay kissing scene and talks about how they had to get themselves in the mindset by watching the l word or whatever haha. what do straight people do? who are they?

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

i was gonna say no but then i remembered i wrote logan and oscar going ghosthunting and being kinda pass-agg horny about it because. idk? logan gave me ryan bergara vibes.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

i think someone reposted some of mine awhile ago and it got dealt with before i really knew anything about it idk

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

i don't know tbh. someone made a podfic of one of my fics a way back.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

yeah i used to do that quite a lot but now. i am a lone wolf. (too perverse for other people's minds)

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

jenson/lewis but society has never been ready for this

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

i don't. i don't wanna let doubt enter into it but my daniel goes to fe fic is up against a number of the dark souls boss level demons in my own brain 😔

16. What are your writing strengths?

uh. i uh. i can write on my phone? i have a relaxed attitude to whether what i write is any good at all? i don't actually think i really have any.

people quite often say i have a lot of emotional intelligence in my fics which is very funny to me because i am a deeply unemotionally intelligent person so idk how that's happened really.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

look we could be here all day.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

i guess it has never bothered me so long as the reader could be reasonably expected to work out the meaning from the context.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

cardcaptor sakura (i was 14)

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

hmmm. in terms of thinking it's like, good or whatever it's probably don't say no or you'll have to go, the fucked up valtteri/george mutual seat envy/horror of being compared to lewis hamilton thing. or really, it's an old spy au fic called ten seconds before sunrise that i deleted ages ago so: sorry about that.

but favourite is probably some dumb mando shit or i have extreme recency bias so maybe logan and oscar go ghosthunting or whatever. oh wait, no, it's genders maxy the how-to-find-your-identity-post-racing-in-your-pussy treatise that was born of crack but ended up. no, it's still crack. anyway, classic emptyhalf shit tbh.

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thebendsbyradiohead · 9 months

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tagged by @berrytart thank u so much bc i have Thoughts & now an excuse to share them lol

last read: severance by ling ma & the new me by halle butler

so i was going to just include severance here but i was rly curious where the new me would go & i literally just finished it & liked it a lot!!!

both books deal with blithe, depressed & passionless protagonists stuck in the never-ending loop of what it means to exist in late stage capitalism which despite all evidence of it in the real world, i apparently also seek out in fiction to reassure me i'm not broken to feel that way too?

severance is amazing & i highly recommend it altho fair bit of content warning for an eerily prescient pandemic plot down to the ghoulish response of governments & businesses. (seriously, it was released in 2018 & if i was ling ma, i'd be buying lottery tickets every single day since march 12 2020). it also does a masterful job of depicting the immigrant experience abroad, especially if you're going thru it alone & without a large support network. the protagonist is also a chinese woman & her relation to her race is also a significant theme that's tied up in the overall arc of the novel, making you realize the title works on several levels: severance from your culture, from your family, from happiness, from humanity. is there nothing capitalism can't take from you?

the new me is a bit more condensed and focused on the inner machinations of a lonely depressed woman who can't seem to hold down a permanent job surrounded by vapid self-interested people & slowly becoming more like them (if not already). it's highly reminiscent of my year of rest and relaxation but i found the descriptors of the banality & pointlessness of office life poignant since it singled out how stupid all of it is. i also appreciated the glimpses of the minds of random side characters who the MC often judges but the author shows us they're as frail & human & pathetically hopeful just like she is, like we all are. while it might not be as layered as severance is, the claustrophobic feeling it gave me & the portrayal of bullshit jobs in late stage capitalism & the way it punishes weakness, vulnerability, and authenticity was painfully familiar. i wish i could give it to my therapist to understand my perspective but she'd probably tell me stop reading shit like this & taking it as truth

currently reading: play it as it lays by joan didion & imagining the balkans by maria todorova

i'm gonna be real with you chief (didion), carrie fisher did this better. this is my first time reading fiction by didion & the year of magical thinking was truly a cathartic read for me but this ain't it. it's a story about a failing actress who's divorcing from this director that made her famous & they have a sick kid & she drinks & hangs out with other rich people & she's not even funny. idk, maybe it's just not resonating with me at this point of my life but i doubt i will be a famous actress at any point & i'm not aiming to be an alcoholic mother so. it's a pity that the things i liked in the year of magical thinking, like the direct prose & complex human relationships, just fall flat here. i guess knowing the things in the year of magical thinking were real made them seem that much more impactful (as much as i hate that). i still have half of it left so i'll finish it but atp i'm not even curious what happens

i just started imagining the balkans so i can't say much abt it except that it's dense and very philosophical which makes sense ig lol. until now she's brought up several arguments i've kind of realized myself but it's nice to have the theory and historical research behind them presented. otherwise, how could i know some random american dude joined one of the sections of the macedonian liberation movement in the 1900s simply because he was bored at home & looking for mystery & intrigue?

To read: miracle in the andes by nando parrado

as a kid my favorite type of story was A Weirdo Stuck In An Inhospitable Environment Survives Against All Odds so this memoir from one of the survivors of the uruguayan air force flight 571 crash whose skull shattered & he still walked an entire mountain & found help is bound to be good

i tag @cuntextual @yugocar @christianbalegf

#i'd say i'm sorry for the long ass post but u guys knew what u were getting into when following #anyways go read severance #lina laments.txt

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malka-lisitsa · 10 months

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psychology + mental health deep dive !

tagged by: The most important person in my life.... me ♡

general mental health related trigger warnings apply. feel free to include more or exclude those facts / test results that take too much time or don’t apply, you can check out this list for more personality-related quizzes to include!

QUICK FACTS ,

diagnoses: (unofficial like this bitch would ever go to a therapist, what goes on in her head is none of her business) C-PTSD, Borderline personality disorder. triggers: Literally everything? Not even kidding its hit or miss at all times because shes constantly in fight or flight mode and can sometimes see something as a threat one moment and not the next. skills: She has ZERO healthy coping skills. She knows HOW to ground in a panic attack, but she often forgets to in the moment. She has zero emotional regulation so she lashes out a lot too. negative coping skills: Drinking, lashing out in aggression words/actions, petty little revenge missions (or that time she became the devil) attachment style: fearful-avoidant / disorganised (shes a mess) love language: Katherine doesn't really have your standard love languages. If she likes you she wants to play with you, silly little games. I suppose that could be "quality time" and I suppose you could simmer her greatest show of love, putting her advantage and safety at risk as "Acts of service" ? myers briggs / mbti: entp (but she can be very introverted too, as long as shes not BORED she has no issues being alone for extended periods of time, and sometimes needs to be.)

HISTORY EXPLORATION ,

are their diagnoses formal ( via a doctor, therapist, etc. ) or informal ( self diagnosis, a hunch, unrealized, etc. ) Informal, she does not care shes just trying to live and be loved

have they ever been treated / medicated? Oh she self medicates all the time <33333333

have they ever been hospitalized or treated on an inpatient basis? Does Damon locking her in a tomb count?

how old were they when they first started experiencing / realizing symptoms? Like most cases of BPD early teens.

do they have a family history of mental illness? Well her father is a raging and abusive alcoholic man so probably.

how was mental health handled / discussed in the family / community? in the 1400's as a woman??? LMFAO SHE GOT STRAIGHT EXILED FOR HAVING A BABY OUT OF WEDLOCK.

what are their thoughts on mental health / their diagnosis? Katherine is an advocate for mental health when it comes to pretty much everyone but herself. She had no problem helping Stefan with his PTSD, validated it and taught him grounding methods- which means shes highly aware and has at least researched some of her issues, but she considers herself too broken to be fixable. So she mostly buries her issues and pretends they arent there until she cant anymore. Bottle bottle bottle- breakdown.

in what ways has their diagnosis shaped their life or experiences? ... you want me to just link her whole bio bc... No but her BPD makes it extremely hard for her to communicate the way she desperately wants to. It makes it hard for her to trust people, even when she wants to, and it makes her almost unpredictable in terms of reaction to rejection or criticism. Her paranoia is sky high. Shes just not having a good time and all she wants is Stefan.

SYMPTOMS: note that all of the below are, on their own, normative and typical aspects of human functioning. they become “symptoms” when they last longer than “normal” or when they pose a significant impact on someone’s life / functioning.

BOLD all that are present, ITALICIZE those that are resolved or in the history.

depression. anxiety. panic attacks. dissociation. derealization. depersonalization. suicidal ideation. self harm. homicidal ideation. psychosis. auditory hallucinations. visual hallucinations. delusions. mania. hypomania. racing thoughts. hyperactivity. attention difficulty. flashbacks. nightmares. hyperarousal. hypoarousal. hypersexuality. hyposexuality. psychopathy. risky behavior. catatonia. somatic / bodily concerns. mutism. phobia. agoraphobia. hoarding. obsessions. compulsions. body dysmorphia. hair picking. skin picking. amnesia. illness anxiety / hypochondria. sensory loss. speech difficulty. comprehension difficulty. communication difficulty. tics. defiant behavior. irritable mood. vindictiveness. aggression. pyromania. kleptomania. paranoia. attention seeking. narcissism. avoidance. dependency. pica. rumination. food restriction. food binging. purging. soiling the bed. insomnia. fatigue. sexual dysfunction. delirium. developmental delays.

explanations / elaborations on any of the above symptoms:

I have several HC's that deep Dive Katherine's mental state, two of them are linked in the above info <3

#oh GOD look at all of her SYMPTOMS #MY POOR BABY #headcanon #this was fun to do

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aeide-thea · 11 months

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[consent in fiction, content warnings]

i started to make a post abt this earlier and then scrapped it, but like, long and boring details aside, i guess really what i'm still thinking about is the way in which content warnings are, probably inevitably, sometimes so insufficient as to be actively worse than nothing—

like, okay, the specific thing i encountered this morning was a fuck-or-die sex pollen fic tagged as 'no archive warnings apply,' which is obviously, uh, debatable, given that the trope is kind of inherently dub-con at best, but the author had tagged for 'sex pollen' and 'fuck or die,' so i guess those individual tags do give readers a sufficient-if-not-generous heads-up that, like, here be dragons or whatever… but then i actually read the fic in question, bc while i feel neutral abt the trope i've often liked this author's work in the past, and like, the actual consent issue that fucked me up a little was that the sex pollen wasn't just an organic phenomenon or lab accident or whatever, as often, but rather deliberately inflicted on the leads, and not by yr run-of-the-mill Evil Experimenters/Torturers/what-have-you, but rather by… the narrator's ex's sisters, as payback for… his ex's having broken up with him???

which, fine, whatever, people sometimes do fucked up shit and you can certainly include that in a story; but the love interest's reaction to discovering this is just to be 'amused,' while the narrator is like, i'm just relieved my ex is still willing to talk to me! which again, fine, whatever, people do shrug off serious violations of their autonomy out of a desire to maintain social bonds, that also isn't unrealistic or unreasonable to portray in a fic; but that entire aspect of the situation got literally less than 2% of the fic's whole word count devoted to it, i guess because we're in Romance Land where the only thing allowed to have actual emotional weight is intra-relationship developments, and anything outside that context is just meaningless scaffolding, even if in real life it would be a pretty fucking big deal, and probably pretty traumatizing, to find out your ex's family had literally poisoned you???

anyway, sorry, i guess i couldn't restrain myself from going into excruciating detail after all, but tl;dr it's just like. it frankly made me feel much weirder to encounter that plot point in a context where other, more familiar dubcon tropes had been warned for, because it made me feel much more uncertain that the author actually recognized it was an issue! i'd have preferred it if they'd just slapped an 'author chose not to use archive warnings' on the whole thing!

[cw for discussion of a fictional depiction of deliberately painful sex]

reminds me of a fic that fucked me up much more a while back, where a character had consented to sex and consented, too, to poorly-defined punishment, but the form the punishment ended up taking was deliberately-careless penetration that caused the character pain on purpose, and neither the character nor i were braced for that, and while i guess you maybe couldn't say it needed a noncon label, because technically both sex and punishment had been agreed to, it definitely was like. while you-the-author may technically have your bases covered here in a legalistic way, this was definitely a pretty deliberate bait-and-switch that was triggering both for the character it happened to and for me! and like. was it effective as a reading experience? honestly, yeah! i got an emotional journey out of it that really mirrored the character's—method reading, if you will. but do i still resent that author for it, literal years later? also yeah.

anyway i guess basically the thing is like. i'd much rather know i'm venturing into unknown territory and be on my metaphorical toes, than have situations like the above where like, everything is supposedly safely tagged, but the author's standards for that aren't the same as yours, and then something slides between the cracks to sting you?? like, i'm (hopefully obviously) not opposed to content warnings, and do typically provide them on this blog, but there's an extent to which it's like. a guardrail that gets dislodged when you put any actual weight on it is more dangerous, actually, than a wholly unfenced drop…

#(me: nah it's okay‚ i should just set that reading experience aside and move on‚ no need to bore ppl)#(also me‚ later the same day: actually it turns out i have to write like 700 words about it or i'll die)#(sigh. thx for bearing with me!)#Fannish Ethical Concerns

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crackerqueen-ineedsleep · 2 years

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in like august or something i sent lorel a very rambly ask about blogverse. well im doing it again because it was such a big thing in my life and i loved it so much.

it is i, roleplayer of bv!shandy/shando, bv!digi/mercury, and the very first lorelcest ship kid; oleander. There's more, but those were the ones i remember clearly. to this day i regret deactivating those blogs, mostly due to all the lost memories. it brought me so much joy. looking back, it was definitely my hyperfixation at the time.

the summer of 2020 (holy shit almost 3 years ago) and i think early into the start of online school, i watched from the sidelines as blogverse grew. every day i watched my little people in the screen. I wasnt much younger but i was still a cringe little tumblr kid having a shit time in school. and then i realized that i could just join. i didnt need permission or anything, i could just make a blog from the get-go and become one of them.

and thats how blogverse shandy was born. my very first tumblr blog, and the one that made me stay. (actually, idk which of them was the first)

i'm still pissed at myself for clearing out my google drive because i used to still have the shitty pictures i drew on my computer of them, due to the fact my ipad was broken at the time. those shitty little pictures were what kept me interested in art (they didnt make me better, i was trash through and through, but they're what sparked my interest and led me to get better). i treasure the old fanart i find in their tags when i go through the ruins of blogverse.

They didn't really have a fleshed out personality or backstory. they were "weird and quirky" one moment, then straight up violent the next. this was mostly because i had no prior experience at actually fleshing out characters. though, i think their "wild card"ness somehow became their personality in the end. i was still some cringe little kid who thought i was a genius at writing because i had this little guy in my computer who lived in a void and had a cat and atattchment issues.

but holy shit i loved them. i used to think about them like a real flesh and blood person. i'd spend long nights roleplaying with others and long days talking to myself about my plans for them and then totally abandoning them moments later. i drew them poorly and decided i was a master of character design. they felt like a part of me.

i had no idea how tumblr worked but it was so much fun. bv digi, bv shandy, and oleander were 3 separate blogs because i didn't even know side blogs were a thing. bv shandy was deactivated several times due to minor issues that could've been fixed with the press of a button.

then came oleander, who i kind of had an idea for. they were a snotty little motherfricker who i absolutely adored being. it started as a joke and then it wasnt a joke anymore and they were a fully fledged character. i got bored quick though, and their blog went inactive soon. i hate their design to this day, and in the morning i'll probably redraw them.

there was also bv digi, whose entire personality was being a little weirdo who kidnapped ship kids at random just be-fucking-cause. they might've actually been the first blog i dont remember. anyway, they had the normalest design and the least art. i loved them with my whole fucking soul.

they made no sense and were generally shitty but that was the best thing to ever happen to me i think. bv introduced me to tumblr where i'd meet so many amazing people and see so many hilarious and sometimes eye-opening posts. it got me into art, writing, and roleplay, my 3 biggest hobbies to this day. it was a hyperfixation i leaned on to cope with the mild distress that just came with being alive and a dumb kid in 2020. my very first 'real' blog was made after bv's fall, and i met one of my longest mutuals bc she wrote a lorelcest fic.

I think back on it as the good old days, nostalgic even. Blogverse was my pride and joy, what i'd go do after a day of suffering in school or do when i retreated to my room. When it died so did my hyperfixation, but now looking back it meant so fucking much to me and was arguably my strongest interest and maybe even coping mechanism.

sure, it deprived me of sleep and sometimes food because i was so caught up with it, but it made me happy. all's well that ends well, right?

and i still am a dumb kid (Older Edition, yay), but even when i'm a dumb adult i'll never forget blogverse. BV was my pride and joy that summer. Thank you for being its accidental ringleader, and i know its wacky to say, but without bv i would be a different person.

KSDJEKFKEKC AAAAAAAAAAAAA-

BICH U GONNA GET ME ALL TOUCHY AND FEELY

I'm so surprised yet happy that there's still at least one person that remembers BV! It was a lot of work to run so many blogs but I'm happy to know that it was worth it. BV means a lot to me aswell :)

#ask

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starryarles · 2 years

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yesterday my friend posted abt their "my year in pixels" thing and it reminded me of mine and that in tern made me look through my old journal and it made me realise how much i missed it and that maybe. i sohuld start doing that again,, this is just me rambling i should have done it in the tags too late now whooooops

so i started and i just wrote down everything that has happened since the last time i journaled and honestly it felt like my mental health got a +7 like,,, the weight of everything lifted off of me and went straight to the paper. i hadn't journaled since last october and that was just one quick entry bc i was bored and my leg was broken,, but before that i hadn't journaled since february and not consistently since 2020,,, it was just so nice to sit down and do that,, and tomorrow i'm going to go and buy more pens bc i like journaling in black and i only have blue pens :") i have so many ideas on what to do and what pages to do and i'm honestly so happy i got back into it,, this time i'm putting way less pressure on myself though

because before i forced myself to make the pages look "pretty" and they were but it took so long to write and make to the point that it wasn't even fun anymore

i'd make huge pages with funky stickers and everything only to write about crying over failing a test or something,, now i'm gonna just write the normal way i write in cursive and save the neat and elaborate pages for movies and fun themes not just everyday life:") i think that's a really good idea and what i need rn

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father-time-and-baby-new-year · 3 years

Note

i love your story’s! theyre all beautifully written, but may i request a Toxic!eren fanfic? Where eren gets jealous and ends up teaching y/n a lesson?

If you feel uncomfortable you don’t have to respond i completely understand!

I’ve written quite a fair amount of stuff w this concept but toxic! Jealous! Eren is timeless. I’m going to do something risky and not tag something bc I don’t wanna spoil the story.

Title: am i warm enough for you?

TW: dark content

Were you purposefully this dense or were you trying to spite him? He was gripping his glass very tightly, green eyes boring into the back of your head. Beside him, his redhead friend let out a nervous chuckle, “Mate you’re going to-“.

Eren let the glass go. No point in getting his fist bloody over the broken glass when he can break something else instead. Something that’ll rattle like the bones of the stupid boy dancing with you right now.

He gets up from the stool, sidestepping the giggling bodies obscured by stage fog and glaring red beams of strobe lights.

When he finds you, there’s a laugh bubbling from your lips like the joke the stupid brunet told you was the funniest thing in the world. And when you finally notice Eren silently watching and judging, molten fury in his eyes, all that tipsy giddiness is drained from your face.

You entertain the idea of turning around and just leaving, but there’s a death grip on your arm and you don’t have a death wish. Softly, you whisper goodbye to your new friend and Eren is biting his tongue so hard, he can taste blood. He resists the urge to beat the guy blue and bloody but the last thing he needs to do is create a scene, so he just focuses on the feel of your wrist clasped in his hold.

“What the fuck is the matter with you?” You curse once he shoves you outside. It’s so cold you can see your breath. You regret not doing more shots, not drinking more, because all the cocktails in your stomach could only keep you warm for so long.

Eren shakes himself outside of his thick jacket and puts it on you. At first, you think of being stubborn and refusing it, but the fleece feels so warm. Eren isn't surprised. You’ve never been the type to sacrifice personal comfort. You’re spoiled like that.

“Won’t you be cold?” You ask, tilting your head slightly, trying not to look at how there were snowflakes stuck between his dark lashes. His dark hair is sprinkled with snowflakes too, and it’s a pretty contrast.

He shrugs, “I’ll be fine. It’s not a long trip to the car.”

It’s not, and you wait in the passenger as he gets the car started. The interior of his Jaguar is lush and dark, and you can feel yourself sinking into the seat, eyelids struggling to keep awake.

The roads are clear and icy. The windshield wipers are on to get rid of the clumping snow. He didn’t drink at all at the club, you muse in the back of your head. Not like Eren at all.

“I’m angry at you.” He says at a red light, fingertips drumming on the steering wheel.

“You took me there!” You exclaim.

“And you were supposed to be my side where I could watch you, not whore yourself off to-“

“That is sooo unfair. All I do is dance with one guy and it's the end of the world but you-“.

“Do not interrupt me.” That shuts you up because his voice is frostier than the weather outside. He doesn’t look at you, his eyes are straight ahead as he pushes on the gas pedal, going way too fast on a 55.

“I’m not going to take you out again until you learn how to behave.”

You whine, “Eren. Cmon, you’re my brother. There’s no reason for you to be so protective like this.”

“It’s precisely because I’m your brother that I treat you like this.” He sighs, sounding less cold now and more exasperated, “You’re just...not ready for boys, okay?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Attitude drips from every word in your question.

“Exactly what I said.”

You make a groan of frustration, “This is so unfair. I don’t understand. You bring home a different girl every week.”

“-that’s not true”.

“Yes. Yes, it is! Do you even remember the name of the chick you brought last month? Hell, do you even remember who you brought yesterday?”

He’s pulling into an exit when he tells you, “I can do whatever the fuck I want because I can take care of myself. You dropped out of school, and don’t even know how to fucking file your own taxes.”

You can feel your heartbeat rushing into your ears, “If I’m this much of a burden to you, why don’t I just leave?” You’re practically shouting out the words.

Eren runs a hand through his unruly hair, “C’mon. You know I didn’t mean it like that. I-I like taking care of you.” There’s a stammer you catch, affirming your belief that he’s a terrible liar.

You guys are in the driveway of his house, “Eren let me out.”

You hate this car and how you can’t open it until he lets you.

He’s using his boss voice, “I think maybe we should talk. I said hurtful things to you and I realize I shouldn’t have. But you have to understand that-“

“Fuck you.”

SMACK

The slap is so resounding it echoes, and you can feel your cheeks warm in blooming pain as tears rush into your waterline.

“Holy shit.” The dark-haired boy growls, “I am so fucking done at playing nice to a brat.”

#tw dark content #tw dark themes #eren yeager x reader #toxic eren #eren yeager x reader fanfiction #brat reader #attack on titan fic #attack on titan au #attack on titan drabbles #attack on titan fanfiction #eren yeager angst

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fairyaali · 3 years

Note

hello love! I got bored and thought of this. So it’s the readers bday and they like Adrien. Adrien like the reader and marinette hates that he does. So like reader is planning on throwing a party bc it’s their birthday so marinette decided to throw a party on the same day at the same time. And since reader is kinda new, everyone decided to go to Mari’s party. So that happens, but when Adrien gets to readers party, they’ve done gone batshit crazy, like screaming, crying, smashing things, idk just losing their shit. Not like in anger, they’re just really hurt by it. No hawk moth tho😩 hawkdaddy go on vacay or sum🤺🤺 Mk sorry this is long and it’s late and I’m kiiinndaaa drunk and in da feels anyway bye bye

HELLO ANON! SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT BUT HERE IT IS! I never thought that i would have to write about mean marinette but here i am LMAO. i hope you like it bb <33

Pairing: Adrien Agreste X Reader

Warnings: Swearing.

Tags: angst, Marinette is a bitch in this oops, alexa play pity party by melaine martinez.

“Love, Adrien.”

“Wow, that’s really cringey Adrien.”

“Shut up plagg, I need to confess to her some way or another.”

Adrien Agreste is sprawled out on his bed and he just finished writing a birthday card for you. Yes, it was quite cheesy but he decided that today was going to be the day he confesses his feelings towards you. He’s had his eye on you ever since your first day of school and you’ve both gotten closer to each other, flirting constantly but never making a move. Needless to say, he was head over heels for you and was too much of a pussy to ever admit it. But tonight was the night.

You invited him over to your house for your birthday party along with your other classmates and he didn’t even think twice to agree – especially since his dad is at a fashion expo in Spain. All he wanted was for you to have the best birthday party you could possibly have. You really meant a lot to him.

his thoughts disappear when all of a sudden his phone beeps.

‘Y/N’S PARTY WILL BE HELD AT MY PLACE SO WE CAN SURPRISE HER, DON’T MENTION ANYTHING TO HER. 7PM ! DON’T BE LATE! ~Marinette’

‘Sorry, can’t come tonight.’ You frowned as you stared at your phone, seeing a text from Marinette. You and her weren’t really that close to be honest but you still wished for her to come and have a good time. You sighed and plopped down on your bed. It’s your sweet 16th and you wanted it to be perfect. You hoped that enough people would show up. It was your first birthday here in Paris and although you haven’t been here for a while, you thought that you already made close connections with your classmates, especially a certain blond.

All you wanted was for him to show up mostly, maybe tonight you could make a move. Maybe tonight you could possibly hold his hand, maybe dance with him, maybe give him a kiss on his soft cheek or a small peck on the lips-

Your face heated up at that thought and a grin appeared on your face. You hugged your pillow and quietly squealed. Tonight was the night and nothing could possibly ruin it.

Or so you hoped.

Everywhere was decorated with fairy lights, balloons and glitter. Music was already playing and there were drinks and snacks for everyone to enjoy. You were wearing the outfit you’ve been planning for ages and you were sitting down, leg bouncing as you wait for people to arrive.

Did you get the time incorrect? you did mention to everyone that you’re meeting up at 7pm. It was 7:15.

Maybe they were running late? But how could it be that all of them were running late?

You furrow your eyebrows and grab your phone. You go on Instagram to see if anyone posted anything about their whereabouts.

Kim was live.

You click on it and see him walking through a crowd of people.

“Marinette, this party is amazing!” you hear him shout.

“Thanks Kim.” You hear her say.

Your jaw drops Anger starts bubbling inside of you.

Kim turns the phone up and shows Nino on the dj stand. He waves to the camera.

“Adrien! say hi to my live.” Adrien appears next to Kim. He was caught off guard. He smiles sheepishly and waves at the camera awkwardly.

Your phone drops out of your grasp and tears start rolling down your cheeks furiously.

Adrien was looking everywhere for you. it was already 8pm and he was wondering when you’d show up. He held your gift and note close to his chest, he wanted to personally give them to you.

“H-hey Adrien..” The voice of Marinette makes him turn around to face her.

“Marinette! Where’s the birthday girl?” He asks, furrowing his eyebrows.

Marinette stares at him for a moment and nervously chuckles. “oh- well- she uh- she can’t make it!” He shrugs and laughs again. “did you get something to drink? We have pomegranate juice, peach lemonade, spr-“

“what do you mean she can’t make it? Why the hell is the party still going?” Adrien questions, looking around in disbelief.

“Adrien i-“

“Marinette, your plan is totally working, can’t believe everyone fell for- “ Alya stops speaking when she notices that Adrien is in front of her and purses her lips.

Adrien stares at Marinette for a moment, narrowing his eyes and shaking his head. “On her own birthday? Marinette, this is so not like you.” He was disgusted by her actions.

“Adrien wait!” She calls out. “I can explain.”

“I don’t know why you did this, or what the hell is wrong with you but this was really low. I’m out of here.” He glares at her before walking away from her.

You were out of control. You cried, you screamed, you threw everything you saw in front of your eyes until you fell on your knees, sobbing.

You couldn’t believe Marinette would do this, you couldn’t believe everyone would do this to you, especially Adrien.

You thought you’ve grown close to the people in your class but you were wrong. They didn’t show up to your birthday party, they lied to you. Your heart was broken.

You held your knees close to your chest as the music lowly played behind you. It was mostly drawn out by your sobs and sniffles.

You hear footsteps approaching you and you look up, with red puffy eyes and see a familiar blond through your blurry vision.

It was Adrien. You look away and sob even harder at the thought of him seeing you like this, with everything destroyed around you. Why did he come here? Did he want to taunt you further?

He kneels down next to you and rubs your shoulder, moving you to his chest and causing you to nuzzle your face there.

“I hate this. I hate today, I hate Marinette.” You mumble. Maybe hate was a strong word, but you didn’t care at that moment.

You look up at him. “Why did you come here Adrien? Do you want to make me feel even more embarrassed than I already am?” You croak out.

He shakes his head. “Please, I swear to you Marinette told me that your birthday party was moved to her place, she told everyone that.” He sighs and shows you his phone so you could see the message Marinette sent him.

“Fucking bitch!” You exclaim and hide your face in your hands again.

“Hey, hey. I got here as soon as I found out she was lying. All I wanted was to celebrate your birthday and make you happy” He says quietly. “I’m so fucking sorry that this happened.” He says and rests his head against yours in a comforting manner.

You look up at him and wipe your eyes, sniffling. “Well, there’s nothing I can do now. It’s ruined.” You mumble and sigh. “I thought Marinette was my friend you know?” You mutter.

“I know.” Adrien nods and looks down. He stares at the card in his hand and bites his lip, his heart racing at the thought of giving this to you. “Maybe this will make you feel better.” He says, a small smile twitching on his lips as he hands you the envelope.

You widen your eyes and look up at him as if hesitant to open it. You open it though and you begin to read it.

Ever since the first time I saw you, you absolutely took my breath away. Ever since the day I first saw you, I thought to myself that I have to get to know you better. I did. And that may have been one of the best decisions of my life. You have a beautiful mind, a beautiful soul and a beautiful heart. To be honest, I think I keep falling for you every day. Happy birthday Ma belle, i hope you have the best one yet.

Love, Adrien.

Tears start rolling down your cheeks again, but this time it was because of his sweet words. Your heart finally felt whole.

You look up at him with glistening eyes and give him a wobbly smile.

He smiles sheepishly at you. “Will you go on a date with me?” He asks.

You didn’t even answer, you just leaned in and placed your lips on his.

It was small, but you felt fireworks burst inside of you.

You pull away and watch him flutter his eyes at you, his cheeks glowing red.

“Does that answer your question?” You ask.

He chuckles and kisses you again.

Maybe your birthday wasn’t so bad after all.

#adrien agreste #adrien agreste x reader #chat noir #chat noir x reader #mlb #miraculous ladybug

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angeloroki · 3 years

Text

broken engagement. 2. — i. midoriya

— part one.

— character ; aged up!izuku midoriya x gn!reader

— genre ; angst

— warnings ; curses

— a/n ; part 2 bc you wanted it, but i never said it'd be fluffy :(

please let me know if there are any female pronouns (i'm doing it unintentionally sorry :/), i want to keep this writing as inclusive as possible!!

« hey.., it's me, again.

please call me back. i never wanted this. »

message deleted.

this was at least the 10th time you repeated the process. your ex-fiancé would leave you a voicemail, you'd listen to it all the way through, even though your friend advised you long ago to block him, and then you'd delete it, reluctantly.

maybe that's why he's been so insistent for the past month. the fact that you haven't blocked him or deleted him from your contacts could only give him hope.

and yet, you'd like to pick up the phone and tell him what an asshole he is. and that it was over, that you could never love him again, and even why not lie to him and tell him you were seeing someone else, and blah blah blah.

but it was all wrong.

you still loved him, even after crying for days.

" i don't know if my feelings for you are strong enough to satisfy you. "

he had made you believe for weeks that the fairy tale you were living with him was real. it was a change from the cheesy endings in disney movies. what a bastard.

you sighed to yourself, gazing at the engagement ring that lay far away on the bedside table.

it gleamed in the moonlight, beautiful, representing the love izuku had for you. now it was just the bearer of the bitter words he had spat in your face.

you looked away.

« y/n hun, i'm going to a friend's house. it's my date i've been telling you about for two weeks now, i hope he's worth it or else you'll hear me complaining, she says in a weary voice. i left the dish in the fridge for you, and please don't resume your series on my netflix account, it's too boring to know where i left off. » your friend shouts from the front door.

you smile slightly.

« i'll try, but i can't promise anything. »

« hahaha, no but for real, i'm serious. anyway, see you later honey, and wish me luck. »

it's been a month since you moved in with your friend, she insisted that you stay with her until you find another apartment. and she was a good cook, so how could you refuse ?

you sat down in front of the tv, and resumed the series you had started. a pathetic love story, the married boy who falls in love with a woman who is pregnant, even though she is a virgin?

you rolled your eyes before turning off the tv. everything was about him, when you're on social media and you see a couple of friends already married, or when a jewelry commercial would be airing right when you turn on the tv, and of course the dates that are coming up on your best friend's side.

it's as if fate didn't want you to forget him.

you were going to have a piece of cake, and you were going to start a horror movie. just to chase away that too sad cloud over your head.

of course, your new roommate had finished the raspberry bush, and so it was her fault that you found yourself at 11pm, in the 24 hour supermarket, in front of an old shop window wondering if ice cream was better after all.

with a Ben & Jerry's in hand, you headed to the cash register to pay and quickly return to your blanket cave.

« ouch ! » you exclaimed.

you had just bumped into someone, who was strangely tall by the way. you were about to apologize and ignore the stranger, when his scent shocked you. it couldn't be possible ? he couldn't be standing in front of you, at 11 pm, in a supermarket, and especially more than 25 kilometers away from your old apartment. argh. obviously this is the only store in town that sells his favorite snacks.

« y/n... »

you finally dared to meet his eyes. he hadn't changed, no wonder, it had only been a month since you left, but you expected something huge when you saw him again. his well-shaped jaw made you want to cover it with kisses. no, stop, y/n. but he smelled so good. " i don't even know if i want to get married ! " that truth echoed in your head. fuck, you had almost forgotten that he had broken up with you.

« what ? » your voice was as hard as a rock.

without giving him time to answer, like last time, you left him hanging and headed for the exit. never mind the ice cream, you'll come and buy it another time.

« what do you mean what ? i've been trying to call you for a month. »

he followed you, leaving his groceries behind too. a breath came from your lips, forming a small cloud of coolness in front of you.

the situation was so cliché that a dry little laugh escaped from you.

« how strange ? i've been ignoring you for a month now. » you said with sarcasm in your voice.

he took your hand gently and suddenly at the same time.

« stop this, and let me explain. »

you felt the melancholy in his voice, his expression camouflaged by a big scarf couldn't hide all the tears he had already started to cry. you just wanted to hold him, to tell him that you were going to get through this together.

you repressed the urge.

no, he was being unfair to you and your feelings. so he didn't deserve your pity.

you disengaged yourself from his grip, and it was with some regret that you saw that he did not try to hold you.

« there's nothing to explain, midoriya. i was stupid not to see that you didn't love me as much. or that i loved you too much. so please let it go. »

« how can you ask me to let go of the love of my life ? stop being so sutpid. »

your eyes widened. did you hear right ?

« i beg your pardon ? was it me who said I didn't want to get married anymore ? was it me who rejected her fiancé for months for absolutely no reason ? was it me who broke your fucking heart when i was patient, and patient ? so don't talk to me about the "love of my life". »

he didn't answer, and a long silence fell between you. you had to bite your lip to keep your tears where they were, in the corner of your eyes. he just needed to say a word, a phrase or even a fucking onomatopoeia to make you stay.

the absence of an answer made you smile sadly.

« midoriya please forget about me. »

« you still have it? the engagement ring, i mean. »

you felt your throat tighten. no need to lie.

"indeed, yes."

a faint smile settled on his face, reddened by the cold. silently, you slipped your hands into your pockets. he was cute that way.

« ...miss your cooking, too. » he said half amused, half saddened.

your exhausted laughter echoed in the street.

« izuku, don't make it worse for yourself. » you said in a tired voice.

the fact that you called him by his first name brought the stars back into his eyes. your tongue came to moisten your lips, you wanted to feel his against yours. just once, before you went home. because you knew that your story wasn't a fairy tale. that even though you loved him madly, and maybe he loved you too, his sweet words couldn't erase the obnoxious behavior and insensitive words he'd thrown at you for weeks.

and most importantly -

a sweet warmth invaded your body, and his scent filled your nostrils. his lips against yours, you could only respond to his ardor. you melted under his caresses that flooded around your waist. your hands met his collar, and you drew him to you. deepening your passionate kiss, the air quickly ran out.

you abruptly pulled away from him. a look of bewilderment painted both your faces. it was unexpected.

« y/n, please... »

« i'll give you the ring back, but it's over. thanks for the kiss. »

yeah, thank you for the kiss izuku, it was a beautiful bitter farewell.

tagging ; @holykvn @iluvvhewer @0lissa0 @animesuck3r @dekusassistant @cyjstars @softbkg @bobbatea-and-hotchocolate @vegaolive @awizuku @maltese-sparrow @erens-s1ut @djmbgbeast @yyuuna @iliketobullydeku @tecna09 @sxmmio-o @lotusxcos @superblyspeedydragon @taceticbitch @joonie-centric @mishe-qm @ab456123cd @pluviophilefangirl @number1cokewhore @stans-nami @ravngers@quillvinrune

#bnha x reader #izuku x reader #mha x reader #midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #deku x reader #chloe;writing #bnha angst #izuku x you #izuku x y/n #midoriya x you #midoriya x y/n

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ackerfics · 3 years

Text

so this is love — annie leonhart

— annie leonhart x female reader

— request by anon: I kinda have a request. How about royal au? Where 2 kingdoms are at war with each other, and reader is the heir of the throne of one kingdom (but they’re not the spoiled type of heir, more like the solider one?) and then the kingdoms decided a truce. Reader will have to marry the heir of the other kingdom which is Annie. Idk maybe those arranged marriages that they never get along at first? Kinda like they were enemies bc they never get along until some development of feelings happen along the way. Maybe Annie will realize that she has feelings when reader got injured since they’re a soldier

— warnings: mentions of war, slight angst if you squint, just two idiots falling in love with each other :))

— summary: you were sent off to another kingdom as a sign of a truce, promising to yourself that the engagement is close to death at how you got off on the wrong foot with your betrothed. it was hell at first but who knows? maybe, unbeknownst to you, the two of you are a match made by the gods.

— word count: 7.5k

— author’s notes: i am so sorry this came out so long :((( we just finished our exams and we have a case study to write as our midterm for a subject. i hope this will still quench your annie fic cravings. and by the way, i fashioned the kingdom of idylle to mondstadt because genshin impact is my stress reliever right now and a kingdom built upon freedom sounds like a gem. plus, the glass castle of the reader is based off of the castle of cinderella, which is the reason for the title hhhhhh happy reading !!!

so this didn’t appear in the tags so i reposted it :”(((

Corsets were abominations that needed to be burned.

The girl with your features staring at you from the mirror was someone you couldn’t recognize from all the preparations your chambermaid did on your figure. The make-up was appalling and thick that you could see a smear on the back of your hand when you tried rubbing your itching nose. Your hair was done in a half up-do with too many decorative pins sticking out, creating a makeshift crown of silver roses, one of the symbols of your kingdom. The dress your mother expected you in was straight-up ridiculous, you couldn’t move from the tightness of the corset and the heaviness of your skirts was hindering you from moving freely. You couldn’t even deny that it was a lovely gown but its inconvenience was irking you at the slightest turn or stretch.

Dressing up this lavishly was rare for you, the Crown Princess of the kingdom boring flags of silver and lilac. You very much preferred the heaviness of your armor and your title as one of your kingdom’s Commendatore rather than the ladylike image your mother has been forcing you on the past few weeks.

You were livid when your parents renounced from the ten-year war that was purging the continent with just a sign on a piece of paper — one that included your name and your honor. Everything was brutal, carnage dotting every town and village of the two kingdoms throwing spears and fire cannons, and you witnessed it all firsthand when you started being one of your kingdom’s soldiers four years ago — a sixteen-year-old girl throwing orders that gave you an advantage from your enemies wearing the crest of the kingdom that painted your lands a heart-wrenching red. Of all solutions that your parents and the other kingdom could come up with, it involved you in the most unacceptable way possible. Officially entering your twenties this year, your parents thought it necessary to offer you as a bride that signified peace to the warring nation right beyond the border. The idea made your vision red, an outburst coming out of your mouth mere seconds after the proposal was announced in the council meeting.

A soldier, a knight, a commander — that’s what you are.

Not some forsaken young woman ready to be shipped off to your rival nation because it was the only way out of this bloody mess.

You had no choice.

The only way for you to grasp the final moments in your kingdom was relishing the touches of the chambermaid and taking in the décor of your room — the small trinkets scattered on your nightstands, the books you escaped to, the jewelry that boasted the colors of your family, and the stuffed animals your nanny sewed for you when you were a toddler. You closed your eyes and let the feathery fingers of the people around you lull you into a prayer for the gods in their celestial thrones, asking for their blessing in this far travel. In the middle of reciting an ode dedicated to the goddess of divine bravery, you felt a cool pendant carefully slide over your collarbones.

Your mother’s face appeared beside the watery princess of the mirror, a forced smile pulling on the corners of her lips. Your distinctly colored irises flickered down on the necklace your mother placed upon the exposed parts of your body. It was a flower-pressed necklace, the gold plate carefully protecting the flower representing your birth. The golden chain holding the necklace together was so thin that you worried for a moment that the fragile piece of jewelry might break in less than an hour while you meet your partner-to-be. You met your mother’s gaze in the mirror — from a chivalrous princess of armor to a dignified queen ruling within a land of eternal spring.

“You look so beautiful,” your mother breathed your name, holding your arms tightly against her ring-adorned hands. Tears blossomed her eyes, trickling down her cheeks akin to the lavender flowers’ petals of the large white tree in your backyard. “You look like the queen you were supposed to be.”

You tried smiling but your wobbly lips made you falter. You can only purse your lips in a tight, flat smile as you face your mother, face set in a kind expression. “Please don’t cry, Mother,” you murmured, placing your palm on top of hers, squeezing it for reassurance. “They wouldn’t do anything to me.”

They, meaning the kingdom you were at war with, the nation that claimed they needed a bride for their Crown Heir. In your world, there was freedom even in marriage — with the kingdoms pairing their sons with the sons of their enemies all for the sake of a truce, especially if the two of them were firstborns. This is very much your situation at the moment. The kingdom of Idylle was a beautiful haven of songs dedicated to the god of the winds, very contrasting to their military power that could take down a good number of your soldiers. You heard stories from some villages in your nation that Idylle was a hoax, that they were bloodthirsty warmongers hungry for the spilled blood of the people of Glaieul, your kingdom. You couldn’t help but believe their words. That was the only addition to your knowledge of Idylle except for their battle tactics and placement of soldiers on the battlefield.

“We’ll pray to the deities that they will do just that,” your mother laughed a little despite the tears. “Or else your father will wage war if they so much scratched you.”

“He wouldn’t do that, Mother,” you shook your head with a slight smile. “You two have worked so hard for this peace treaty. If I ever scratched myself in Idyllic lands, trust me that it would most likely be my fault. Not theirs.”

Your mother’s laugh twinkled in the room, painting everything in a light that erased the heaviness shrouding in every corner of your chambers. “I suppose so. You and your love for your sword are unrivaled. I can still remember the time when you first got the weapon, you were so thrilled for a six-year-old that one would think you were born in the barracks. I have to admit, you looked adorable swinging your sword until the greeting of the night and its stars.” She wistfully sighed, looking down at the necklace she gave you. “Your father was so proud when you came back for dinner that night.”

“My sword has always been a lifelong companion. I will even bring it to their castle.”

Your mother placed a hand on top of her chest, over her heart. “I hope you don’t unsheathe it in front of their royal family.”

You breathed a laugh. “No promises.”

The two of you talk about all the things that happened in your childhood, your laughs echoing through the hallways. The maids and the butlers bade you goodbye and safe travels as you passed by, never forgetting to nod in their direction in acknowledgment. You will miss their company for they saw you grow up before you decided to partake in the war. Almost all of them fussed over the mess you made while practicing your swordplay, cleaning up the broken vases and the mud on the carpeted floors. Even one of the apprentices of the Keeper of Books residing in the palace, Armin, enthusiastically waved at you, his friends flanking him for a visit in the kitchens. You didn’t miss how Eren directed an incredulous stare towards the blonde man, with Mikasa looking shocked at how easily the apprentice interacted with you in a public setting since your times with them only happened behind prying eyes.

You gave the three of them a huge smile that gave their faces a pretty rose shade.

Upon reaching the foyer, your father stood at the foot of the stairs along with the soldiers you acquainted in your time on the battlefield, sending a wave of warmth through your chest. His silver coat lined with gold details was a beacon and his white breeches were tucked in a pair of knee-length boots. His chest was decorated with his sash full of medallions, the kingdom insignia of lilac gladioluses and silver roses pinned on top of his heart. The king of Glaieul softened his eyes, crinkles appearing at the corners, at the sight of you and your mother descending on the stairs.

“My little flower,” was his greeting to you when you reached him.

“Father,” you breathed, picking up your skirts to settle in the embrace of waiting arms. You buried your figure against him, inhaling his scent of pine and rosewater, creating the last memory you will have of him. The two of you pulled away for a moment, your eyes watering at the sad visage your father sported. You felt the lightest brush of his kiss on your forehead.

“Now I’m becoming reluctant in sending you off,” he told you. “I felt guilty when I saw you fight against this during the council meeting. But it is what they offered and I have no say in the matter.”

“I know.”

“May the eternal spring never waver in your soul.”

You nodded before taking a step back, bowing with your knees on the marble floors. Your crown glinted against the light from the stained-glass windows, your hair forming a curtain around your face as you replied, “I will let it fester among the ballads and idylls they will offer. I will carry the name of Glaieul with faithfulness, honor, and grace.” You raised your head to meet your father’s eyes. “I promise to never deter the eternal spring.”

It would be that way until your last years in that kingdom. And as you rode the carriage with the soldiers you fought with guarding the vehicle with their lives on the line, you could only sigh and offer another round of prayers that this swerves in a more positive direction than what you were expecting. After a hefty journey across the bustling capital (people stopped by and waved your carriage goodbye, offering you flowers that one of the captains of the fleet, Levi, scowled at — you coaxed him that it was alright, though) to the hectares of meadows in the countryside, the sight of flowers mixed with emerald turned into a sea of teal as you entered the outskirts of Idylle, your betrothed’s home. Everything was bathed with the endemic species of grass solely blessed by the god of the winds on Idylle — legends say that it was because He wanted the kingdom that worshipped him to look different than the rest. No matter how much you deny it, it was beautiful.

“How are you faring, princess?”

Your daze was interrupted by a baritone voice, deep enough to alert some of the men around the carriage. His gray eyes provided you support during the war. You couldn’t help but smile at the onyx-haired man riding by your right window. “Hello, Captain Levi.”

“Tch. Drop the title, brat. You and I both know that the war made us friends somewhat.”

You let out a small laugh. “Well, Levi, to answer your question, I’m quite fine even though my parents just sold me to gain peace.”

Levi rose an eyebrow at the remark. “I am not one to have the capabilities to comfort someone but think of this as a way for you to help the kingdom without sacrificing your life for once. A nation without its heir is just like losing its king. I’ve seen you train when you’re starting as a squire and to the point when you got the position you deserve. This would be like a small walk in the gardens of your mother.” He fixated his stare on you, eyes dull yet determined to get his point across. “You have a role in every part of your life and this time, this is what the gods crafted for you. Do not fret, princess, you have more chances of being on the battlefield again.”

The words Levi spoke settled in you until you reached the capital of Idylle, a small island in the middle of a clear azure lake with walls resembling a huge castle. The bridge leading to the gates was lined with guards bearing the kingdom’s crest, all of them standing under the flapping flags bearing the symbol and colors of the royal family they serve — a harp surrounded by the colors of gold and blue. Their eyes warily followed the series of carriages, postures becoming stiff in the realization that the entourage holds the visitor their rivaling country sent. That was still the scenario when the series of carriages and horses passed by the marketplace, the vicinity on the lowest part of the walled capital, as if the wind even ceased to let the people gawk at the brightly-colored entourage making its way to the highest tier depicting mansions and the main plaza where their patron god stood tall and proud in front of the palace’s gates.

Everything looked magnificent.

It was a breath of fresh air from the glass castle you grew up in. Whereas your kingdom built a white, blinding home that withstood for hundreds of years, Idylle’s palace blended with the brick walls with its leveled mansard roofs and turrets. The gates were made of gold, welcoming you into a huge square of maze-like hedges, a fountain sitting in the middle of the labyrinth. Some gardeners stopped their daily chores to greet the carriages with a wave of their hat, seeing as you were going to be an addition to the royal family after the wedding in a few months. The steps leading to the main doors loomed in front of you with only a few servants waiting for you to step out of the carriage.

You took in a deep breath, nodding at Levi to open the door. When it swung open, you placed your hand on top of Levi’s as he guided you down the propped steps on the side of the carriage.

“Well,” Levi hummed from behind you, making you glance at him with a curious eye. “May the eternal spring never waver in your soul, Your Highness.” He bowed in front of you, only a dip of his head, a firm hand on his heart, and yet that was enough for you to reciprocate it with a kind smile.

“Safe travels back, Captain Levi. May the gods protect you.”

The servant boys standing on top of the stairs jumped an inch in the air, going down in fleeting steps to get your luggage when they realized they were staring too long at you. You smiled at them in gratitude before stepping inside the palace as the guards opened the huge, gilded double doors in front of you.

The inside was just elegant as the exterior appearance of the entire capital. Everything was bathed in gold that seemed to rival the Sun and it made you look away for a moment. The grand hall followed the kingdom’s colors, from the turquoise carpets leading towards two winding staircases to the golden ceilings decorated with paintings of cherubs and the story of how their god of the winds came to be. One of the servant boys slightly cleared his throat, snapping you out of your curiosity of the myths laid on the ceiling. You turned to him with raised eyebrows, spurring him to whisper a faint, “Follow us, Your Highness.” They led you through hallways hung with tapestries and paintings, drawing rooms where the queen hosted her tea parties (Levi would have loved it), and ballrooms that have the same aesthetic as the foyer. Finally, you stopped in front of one of the apartments in the palace, the servant boy who told you to follow them brightened at the guard stationed there.

“Reiner!”

You waited patiently and let your eyes roam across the hallway.

“Hello, Falco, Udo.” The man, Reiner, smiled at the young boys before turning to you. He placed a hand on his heart and bowed. “Welcome to Gale, the capital of Idylle, Your Highness.”

“Thank you for the welcome,” you replied, motioning for him that it was quite alright to straighten his posture. “The palace looks lovely.”

“Indeed, it is.” Reiner opened the doors of your room and once again bowed with an outstretched hand towards the room. “Here are your chambers and I will be your guard for the entirety of your stay here in the palace, Your Highness.” You muttered a faint ‘thank you’ as you entered a drawing room with a door to the private chambers on the left and the bathrooms to the right. There was a table fit for two people, armchairs, and drawers with vases on top. A huge floor-to-ceiling window illuminated the room, your feet carrying you there to open them, and letting the wind caress the curtains as they danced in the breeze. “If you ever need anything, you can call for my name and I will be here in an instant. Your chambermaid will be up here in a moment to help you prepare for the family dinner. For now, rest well, Your Highness.”

“Thank you, Reiner, Falco, Udo,” you smiled, retreating towards the private chambers.

You let out a sigh and stared at nothing for a few moments. It came down to this. To think that you were in enemy lands and was treated so well without any degradation came as a shock to you. The people so far that radiated negativity at your arrival were the guards stationed at the bridge and some of the townsfolk and nobles parading in the streets. As you think about the servant boys and Reiner’s calmness in receiving you in the palace, you immediately thought that it would be better than you expected.

You took off your heels under your dress, mind racing that this wouldn’t be so bad, and plopped on top of your canopied bed, its baby blue curtains protecting you from unknown disturbances and drowning you in a rapid of dreams.

The dinner didn’t go so well as you expected.

You donned a more suitable dress for indoor use, something that doesn’t include forcing your figure in a tight corset and yet presentable enough to be shown in the family dinner. You even placed a circlet of silver flowers on your head to compensate for the dull dress you chose, the description fitting after one of the chambermaids expressed their perplexity at how simple regarding design your dress has. Your light blue skirts fanned out around you as you made your way to one of the grand dining rooms reserved for family use. The choice of the color of the dress should be enough to express that you are willing to be on good terms with the family of the person you will marry.

But your first meeting with Annie Leonhart was interestingly disappointing.

Before departing from your kingdom, you learned the royal family and even Idylle’s customs. You learned how they always valued freedom and expression above all else, compared to your home that valued their ties with the gods more than the idea of getting rid of the shackles placed by your deities. You learned how they have this festival dedicated to celebrating the love they share with their patron god and how it spanned for half a month.

Finally, you learned about the indifferent Crown Heir of Idylle, the young woman with the piercing blue oceanic eyes sitting in front of you at the dinner table. She was known for building up walls that discouraged some of her engagements with other royalties across the continent. She was so closed off that she didn’t even glance in your direction for one second. Her hair was done in an elaborate bun wrapping around her head in a braid, her small, thin diadem resting against her golden hair. Annie kept her gaze on her plate, even playing with her food mindlessly for a couple of minutes before sighing and taking a bite of the chicken the maids served. No conversation was exchanged and the dinner ultimately became one of the most awkward meals you had. The king even tried to engage his daughter for casual talk but Annie dismissed them with a hum.

The queen had to apologize to you several times after the dinner, with Annie huffing at the back and eager to get out of the room. Despite how much she was against this engagement, you still bowed at her before you retreated to your room.

Now dressed in your nightgown, you stared at the canopy of your bed, already missing your home the more you fixed your attention on the bundled-up curtains. You badly needed to hit a straw dummy with your sword to let out your frustrations. Of all the royalties present in your continent, why did it have to be you that was shipped to this measly forced marriage? There were still so many solutions that could lead to a peace treaty but why was this the only one the kings and queens could present to their courts? A sigh escaped your chest once again at the thought of actually getting to know Annie. You laid on your side, curling your legs towards your chest and prayed that the god of dreams will visit you sooner than expected.

A knock reverberated through your chambers, the sound making you sit up.

You went to the receiving room and opened the door. You kept the small hitch of your breath in your chest at the sight of Annie and her half-lidded eyes. There was no one in the hallways. You figured that she sent Reiner away for some privacy, meeting the blue irises you likened to brilliant sapphires.

“What brings you here, Your Highness?” you asked, opening the door wider.

“Annie.” She saw how your eyebrows raised in surprise. “Call me Annie, we’re betrothed after all.”

“Of course.” You smiled. “Annie,” you tested her name softly, missing the way she inhaled too sharply at your voice.

Annie reciprocated the gesture by saying your name. The two of you stared at each other and it felt like an eternity before she looked away to focus on the receiving room behind you. She noticed how your eyes held kindness underneath the star-like shine even though she showed hostility during your first dinner with her family. Your hair was disheveled and it didn’t take her a minute to realize she might have woken you up from a good night’s rest. The journey from Glaieul to Idylle was a long one. You deserve all the rest you can get, “I apologize if I woke you up but I feel like I should do this before dragging it out.” You once again raised an eyebrow so she took out a leather box, opening it to reveal a ring with a holographic gem showing teal and pink in the middle. The Leonhart family ring. “Here.”

“Oh.”

You were gawking at the beautiful piece of jewelry, with Annie taking the matter in her own hands. She took the ring out of the box and pocketed the container. Her hand reached out to hold your palm against hers, sliding the ring in your ring finger. Your hand still hovered in front of you after Annie retracted hers to find their place by her side. She continued to eye your mesmerized visage with a half-lidded gaze, clearing her throat to catch your attention. You turned to her with a small apology for spacing out.

“It’s fine,” Annie waved off. “It’s yours starting today.” She turned away from you and went down the hallways but not before saying a “Good night, [Name].”

The entire week of your stay in Idylle was uneventful, to say the least.

Annie kept her distance from you after that night she gave you their family ring. It left you thinking that you should also gift her the [Last Name] ring your family treasured for centuries. The ring was placed in a small cushioned jewelry box that you opened and propped on one of your night tables. Your conscience was telling you to give it to her but there wasn’t exactly any moment alone with her let alone just passing by her in the hallways. The blonde princess made it her mission to never let your fates meet the more time you spent in the capital. You then decided that she probably didn’t want this engagement to happen.

But she gave you the ring. Wasn’t that a strong signal that Annie accepted you as her betrothed, unlike the others before you?

You shook that thought as you focused on giving consecutive hits on the dummy in front of you. Two days before, you proposed to the king to let you have a moment alone in the training grounds for about two hours or so to keep you in shape. He reluctantly agreed, but not without a side stare at the queen. They heard of your glorious feats during the war, how you managed to become one of the Commanders of a battalion of soldiers tasked with being in the frontlines and how you won constant ambushes against Idylle’s numbers. Two hours of training became three until here you are, still not stopping as you finished every single dummy in the private training grounds. With your day spent outside, you thought it would be nice to have a nice dip in the bathtub before dinner.

In your walk towards your chambers, you spotted Annie in one of the drawing rooms, sitting in the window seats with a book of war tactics in hand. You recognized the author as one of the revolutionaries mentioned to you by your tutor.

“That’s a nice book,” you couldn’t help but mention. Annie turned to you unfazed by your interruption though there was a glint of interest in her eyes. “The book mostly describes battle formations but I think the author likened it to every situation on the battlefield. For instance, the phalanx was native to the empire of Great Findara and it was great for preventing casualties until it was overpowered by the infantry tactic of the city nation of Khisfire where every man has a role and a weapon depending on their group. The latter was more on the long-range yet melee way of taking back the territory.”

Annie hummed. “Do royal tutors of Glaieul teach this to their students?”

“Oh, no. I learned it while taking on the role of a squire.”

She once again hummed. “It completely slipped my mind that you are one of the Commanders in your military. You were ruthless as the folks in the noble plaza say, blood tainting your hands from doing raids in the border villages of Idylle.” Her tone was like a jab to your side, like an arrow tearing through your skin. “I know it was a time of war and desperate times call for desperate measures but our people didn’t deserve to experience the massacres.”

“They were far from being massacres,” you gritted your teeth.

Annie scoffed. “Then what were they? Because that’s what it looks like to me. I can still remember the story two years ago of a young girl wearing her lilac cape in the bloodbath, eyes so dull that you can see your reflection on it. What’s to say that this engagement is a hoax plotted by your parents to assassinate my family for you to win a territory you greatly needed because of the resources?” She closed her book with too much force, bitterly spitting out the next words, “The apple doesn’t fall from the tree as the saying goes.”

“If you question my being here then why did you give me your family ring, Annie?” you asked, your body now facing the tense young woman by the window. You cursed at how the light made her look angelic like the girl the god of the winds sacrificed his life to before he ascended to the heavens. “This peace treaty is everything my family wanted even though hundreds of our soldiers died in vain for not meeting the ends of what they fought for. If you’re saying that my parents placed me in an undercover predicament to add to the weight of deaths on my shoulders, I suggest you tell your father to put a stop to our betrothal. Because I don’t even want to be here, Your Highness, and it would do me such a huge honor. I would rather spend my time out with my fellow soldiers than pretending I’m some dainty princess my family sheltered when in fact, I was anything but that.

“Have a good day and I hope you enjoy the rest of the book. Chapter ten was a personal favorite of mine,” you dismissed, turning towards the direction of the apartments.

Once you reached your door, Reiner straightened his posture, faltering for a second when he noticed the cross look on your face. He chose not to say anything as he opened the door for you. You took off your boots right beside one of the armchairs of the receiving room and immediately went inside your private chambers. The glint of the ring on your night table mocked you. You stomped over the furniture and forcefully closed the small jewelry box, throwing the container inside one of the drawers.

Maybe sleep will be much kinder to you, the sheets enveloping you in an embrace you wish your mother can only give in this time of need.

You were radiant under the harsh heat of the Sun.

Annie was scheduled to have a free slot in her timetable after being included in one of the court meetings regarding the resiliency plan of some of the villages in the borders that managed to survive the Glaieulian raids. She suggested that the villages should be moved to one of the more remote villages nearer the capital, where the terrain is suitable for growing crops and starting small farms. There wouldn’t be an issue with overpopulation because the recommended village was home to the elderly and children. The newly situated families will also aid the old people as they go about their mundane activities. It was a sound suggestion and her father was also considering it. Annie hoped that would be the case as she scribbled a small note on a piece of paper. After the meeting, she stopped by one of the windows overlooking the training grounds, and there you are.

Your small argument that happened a few days before stirred some guilt in Annie’s stomach.

You weren’t even part of the raids she was talking about. They were led by a commander by the name of Erwin Smith. The stories about you that she heard were from Idyllic soldiers that suffered a lot during the war, not from the people of the villages Erwin raided. Annie couldn’t deny it but she did step out of the line by accusing you of being an assassin. That was too far-fetched. She was just stuck in her suspicions when she was supposed to be getting to know you.

All she knew about you was that you were adept with a sword and can name any tactic written in books about wars.

Annie saw a maid cleaning one of the vases in the hallway. “Miranda.”

The maid turned around, curtsying in a haste before patting her uniform. “What can I do for you, Your Highness?”

“Can you prepare a tray of iced apple juice and some cakes?”

“Of course, Your Highness.”

Annie nodded. “And can you place this note on the tray and deliver it to [Name]’s room?”

The maid was taken aback. “Well, it would be my pleasure, Princess.”

“Thank you.” With that, Annie walked away without a glance back.

Curious eyes followed the princess’ form, the maid finding herself looking at your figure sparring with Reiner and a smile instantly greeted her face. This could be a turning point in the betrothal because she could’ve sworn Annie had a small blush on her cheeks at the mention of the other princess.

After your training, a tray of sweets and a pitcher with glasses of apple juice awaited you in your receiving room. You wanted to ask Reiner if he asked some of the chambermaids to prepare the afternoon snack but a folded note caught your eye. With one hand gripping the towel around your shoulders, you read the note, your face warming up at the short yet endearing sentence.

Indulge in these, they taste better after a good training session.

Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all, you thought as you munched on a sprinkled cookie.

Her eyes kept following a trail of gold tulle, silks, and laces, never looking away the moment her blue eyes laid themselves upon a beauty that rivaled the goddess of oneiric realms, the most ethereal goddess of the heavens. You were dressed in an off-shoulder gown with loose sleeves reaching your elbow, the bodice carefully wrapping around your torso in the most flattering way possible, and skirts adorned with silver gems. In a sea of aristocrats with fabulous dresses, you were a sight to behold in this ball dedicated to commemorate the truce between Glaieul and Idylle as well as announce the engagement between the two countries. You were starlight personified, shining in Annie’s eyes under the lights of tens of chandeliers in the ballroom.

You were on the other side of the ballroom, laughing with your friends from your home kingdom. There was a tall brunette that seemed to be star-struck because of you just like Annie, a black-haired young woman who was smiling slightly, and a blonde who was engaged in an animated conversation with you. Your smiles were refreshing, to say the least, Annie seeing it for the first time since you came to their palace. Your laughs are genuine and it came out of you so easily when in the company of your friends.

Annie visibly stiffened when you turned around and smiled at her, gesturing for her to come to join the small huddle. Your three friends tensed noticeably at her half-lidded stare, with you reassuring them that she’s not that indifferent all the time.

As if sensing Annie’s hesitance, Reiner chuckled behind her. “You know, it wouldn’t hurt to introduce yourself to them, Your Highness.”

“I’m getting to that, Reiner.”

A laugh came from the blonde man. “She’s good for you. That much I can tell. The kindest soul I’ve ever met in my life.”

Again, guilt pooled in Annie’s chest. Those words are the opposite of what she spewed out to you the last time you talked. She called you a power-hungry monster who ravaged the war with no care on your shoulders. She didn’t even apologize yet. Annie sighed, “I know.” Then, she pulled up her skirts, navigated the ballroom, and stopped directly beside you. Her blue eyes scrutinized the three people you grew up with, with the brunette and black-haired woman stepping a small step forward to assert their dominance while the blonde pinched their backs to warn them not to step out of line in another kingdom. “Hello.” She transferred her eyes on you afterward, placing a gentle hand on the small of your back and rubbing it in a comforting motion. “I hope you enjoyed the ball so far.” Those words were directed to you.

You only nodded with a smile. “Annie, this is Eren, Mikasa, and Armin. They’re my friends when I was growing up in the glass castle.” Annie nodded. “Everyone, this is Annie, my fiancé.”

“We know,” Eren, the long-haired man in a low ponytail murmured with his arms crossed over his broad chest.

“Eren,” Armin reprimanded. He smiled at a stone-faced Annie. “Thank you for making [Name] happy! I can sense that she has a different air around her while we talked. It must be because of you.”

Annie stayed quiet, her hand coming into a still on the small of your back. It was a good thing her left hand was hidden away because they would immediately think that you didn’t accept the engagement. She glanced at the ring nestling in your finger, a perfect match against the golden train of your dress. Realizing that she created an awkward stretch of silence, Annie could only nod wordlessly before shifting her attention to you again. It seems like you’re the only one who can calm her nerves down inside the vast ballroom. She never took her gaze on you even as you continued the conversation between your friends.

Her mind was fogged with thoughts of only you throughout the ball.

The two of you excused yourself from the trio when Annie’s father called for everyone’s attention from the front of the huge chambers. “Everyone, kind souls and pure-hearted people of the continent, since tonight is all for enjoyment, the waltz of the ball will now commence.” His blue eyes went to his daughter, standing at the side of his throne. “The moment everyone is waiting for — the first waltz.”

She rehearsed this too many times for when a proper betrothal comes into play but why is her hand shaking when she outstretched it in front of you? You must have felt it because you flashed a comforting smile her way. The two of you went to the middle of the ballroom, the guests staring expectantly at the birth of a romance. They were wrong because you hate her and she hates you. Right? Her hatred for you will never waver for killing her people even though you look like a descended goddess with the lights of the chandeliers raining on you. Hatred must be fueling her heart to beat faster than ever, why she seemed to trip over her skirts and how her words stumbled in her tongue. That must be it.

The dance slowly made its way to the part where she struggled, dipping you as gracefully as she can. Before it happened, you whispered to her, “Please don’t make me fall.”

Annie’s voice was soft, for your ears only. “I promise, my princess.”

It truly was a birth of a romance, the two of you unaware of it all.

“Come on, Reiner!” You shouted at him from across the training field. “Come at me with all you’ve got.”

The blonde man hesitantly shifted into position as he eyed you. “Are you sure, princess? I wouldn’t want to hurt you.” He remembered the threatening look he received from Annie before this training session and he would like all of his limbs intact, thank you very much. “I just don’t want your chambermaid to nag me again after last time.” He managed a cut on your arm your previous session and you had to wear a long-sleeved dress in such stifling weather.

You scoffed lightheartedly. “I can handle it, Reiner. You don’t have to worry about it. Plus, I can dress my wounds perfectly.”

Reiner didn’t believe that. Your skills in covering up your wounds were lacking despite being a soldier. The most you could do was apply some salve on your bruises, that was it. He had no choice because the past month he spent his days with you, you were like a persistent little child that reminded him of his younger cousin. He hoped that you two wouldn’t meet. “Alright, here I go, Your Highness.”

Parry after parry could be heard in the private training field. You were doing fine in deflecting Reiner’s sword but your ankle immediately ached after shifting your body, leaning back to avoid the sharp edge of the knight’s weapon. You let out a huff as you dropped on the ground, jolting when Reiner called for you to stay alert. Seeing the glint of his sword, you rolled away and the pain on your ankle flared, even more, traveling through your calf. It also didn’t help that you received a cut on the side of your bandaged arm. You picked yourself up despite the throbbing pain on your ankle and arm, now being on the defensive as Reiner continuously struck you with his sword. He then circled his weapon around yours, throwing your sword on the side and pushing you to the ground with the tip of his weapon. That was the time where your ankle finally twisted into a sprain.

“Ah!”

“Princess?” Reiner’s tone became alarmed, dropping to your level and taking off your boots in an instant. His hands ghosted around your swollen ankle, not knowing what to do. “Gods, Annie’s going to kill me!”

“Annie?” You asked between pants. “What does this have to do with her?”

He only shook his head, carrying you in his arms and into the palace. His steps were hurried and the maids gasped at the sight of your red ankle. “Please prepare a bucket of ice and bring it to Princess [Name]’s private chambers.” He turned to you. “Hang on for a moment, Your Highness, we’re nearing your room. Just a little bit more.” Reiner entered your room and gently placed you on your bed. “I’m going to be taking off your other shoe, Your Highness.”

“Reiner, I think I’ll take it from here.”

Reiner stiffened, slowly turning his head to the entrance of your private chambers. Annie was impatiently standing with a bucket of ice in both hands, eyes glacially set on the blonde man kneeling on the floor in front of your confused form. She didn’t care if Reiner trembled in front of her. She vividly remembered telling the knight to never hurt you (she didn’t see the cut you had last training session because Annie was in another court meeting involving the incoming tax collection of various villages). Annie glanced at your ankle, barely grimacing at the state of it before gesturing for Reiner to get out of the room. The large blonde man took his leave, bowing at the two of your hastily and closing the doors with finality.

Annie mimicked Reiner’s position, kneeling in one knee to place your injured foot on her thigh. She didn’t wear any dresses for the day and it made her look dashing. The image implanted itself in your brain. Her hands are gentle against your skin, your cheeks flaring at the contact. Her features were contorted in a downturned one that showed how bothered she was.

“How did this happen?”

Your eyes settled on the top drawer of your nightstand. “I dodged Reiner’s blow and I twisted my ankle in the process.”

“You should be more careful.”

“I’m always careful.”

Annie scoffed. “That’s clearly obvious.” She said nothing more while dipping your foot in the ice bath. She lifted her head too fast when you winced at the coldness of the water. “Deal with it. We wouldn’t want this to be worse than it already is.”

“Thanks for the concern,” you dryly mentioned.

“What makes you think that my being worried is all fake?” You’re silent, Annie choosing the moment to continue the words she didn’t have any control over. “When the maids prepared this bucket of ice in the kitchens, I was out of the council meeting. When I saw then bringing this up to your chambers, I was alarmed and my mind was a mess of thoughts concerning what happened to you.” At each word, her face held a multitude of emotions that you never saw on her. Her lips became pursed whilst you wordlessly stared at her. “I am not pretending to care for you. How could I pretend when I’m already feeling foreign emotions when it comes to you? It’s my first time feeling this way so I don’t know if I can categorize this as falling in love. But it feels like it. So, for the love of the gods, can’t you see that I’m rambling because of you?”

You didn’t reply, instead, you reached out to the drawer where you kept that ring.

“What are you doing? You should be still right now.”

You pulled out the jewelry box and flipped it open, showing the blonde the ring fashioned in a vine, the centerpiece being a group of small gladiolus flowers with diamonds in their centers.

Annie’s cheeks reddened, flustered at the pretty jewelry. “What?”

Words never came out of you as you took Annie’s left hand. The ring looked pretty on her, the two of you admiring it after you slid the engagement jewelry in her ring finger.

“I now accept you as my fiancé, my future lover, and holder of my heart. Annie Leonhart, may our eternal spring bloom for centuries, and may your god of the winds bless us with his idyllic ballads.” Annie’s eyes were wide and you can see your reflection on them, along with constellations that lit up her irises. You placed your forehead against hers, looking straight into her flushed face. “They were right, this is the birth of a romance.”

And as you two kissed for the first time, the gods were rejoicing in their thrones, each of your prayers answered — your love finally etched in a whimsical melody.

#annie #annie leonhart x reader #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #princess!reader #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #shingeki no kyojin #snk #snk x reader #annie leonhart x you

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kyidyl · 3 years

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Kyidyl Does Archaeology - Part 4

(As before, if you’re only seeing this part 4, the rest of them have the tag KyidylCL)

THE ARTEFACTS

Ok, so I’ve talked about the site and what we’ve been digging in and such, but I’m gonna be honest with you guys: I like lab work exponentially more than field work. So I am the one who has been processing the vast majority of the finds and ergo have lots of stuff. That’s why I sometimes make jokes about the stuff in my basement - I’m storing the majority of it here in my basement. I’ve gotten the question before about ownership, so here is how that works. The dig is on private land so anything we get technically belongs to the owner of the land. Now, as far as I know, he has no interest in keeping any of it so it’ll likely end up in the hands of the arch society, who will basically just be custodians of it but not owners. It might end up in a museum, too. I don’t really know, but that determination won’t be made until we’re finished, and not by me.

So every site has its own sort of categories of stuff that you find depending on who lived there (although for ease, archaeologists often categorize this stuff based on location and time - more on that later.). For our site the majority of it falls into these categories: animal bone, shell, lithics, pottery, charcoal, modern contaminants, and artefacts. And, to lend a bit of clarity here...lithics are anything made of rock. So they include fire cracked rocks, flakes from stone tool making, material that was used in construction, material that was crushed to make temper for pottery paste (more on that later, too.), etc. If it came from a rock it’s a lithic.

And imma tell you a secret: I hate lithics. Everyone has their thing, their category of human refuse that they simply do not like. A prof of mine hated teeth and pottery. That’s just how it is, and mine is lithics. I think they’re boring, I can’t tell a flake from a blade, I don’t give a single fuck what material they are, I don’t care about the style or craftsmanship...I just don’t care. I call them all rocks, and I do it so much that everyone on the site has started accidentally calling them rocks, too, which amuses me. Rocks, to an archaeologist, means “stone that wasn’t altered or used by people”. They’re worthless. Not that I think lithics are worthless - far from it - I just really hate them and this site has so. goddamned. many. Lucky for me, we have a Rock Guy aka someone who really loves lithics and actually has gotten pretty good at flint knapping and just, y’know, is really into rocks.

And to clarify about artefacts. When you’re out in the field everything you find is either an artefact or a find. The collection of these things is called an assemblage. When you’re doing lab work and sorting through it all later on an artefact is, well...like a thing. I’m explaining this poorly....it’s a complete object with a specific function. So, a whole pot = artefact, broken pieces = sherds (not shards, sherds.). Complete arrowhead = artefact, flakes or a broken one = lithic. Artefacts also tend to be somewhat unique, or at least something you don’t have a lot of. They don’t always have to be complete, anything that is a specific object can go in here. Like, for example, this piece of pipe we found:

To recap, we’ve got pottery, charcoal, lithics, shell, bone (animal - we haven’t found human. But I’m just gonna say bone.), and artefacts. If you are sensitive to things like that, this is your warning that this post is going to have pictures of animal bone and you should scroll quickly.

Now, for reference, this is what it all looks like before I clean it and after it’s been dying out for a day or two (the ground has natural moisture, so I basically just open the bags and let them air out.):

And, yes....I am cleaning them off on an actual antique blotter with real silver edges that my mom gave me for this express purpose. A factoid I’m only sharing because it amuses me in that sort of “bet they never envisioned this use for this thing” sort of way. Normally, if I was in a real lab, you’d do this over a metal tray. When you’re working with an assemblage you never hold it over empty space, you always hold it over the bench and preferably over whatever your work surface is. That doesn’t mean I haven’t dropped my fair share of stuff anyway, but most of it just lands on the work surface and not the floor, which is why you hold it over a work surface. But anyway, as you can see, it just looks like a brown, dirty mess. I usually do a quick sort of the stuff I know for sure what it is and then I wash it with a soft toothbrush and some water. The rocks I just submerge and swoosh around because they’re rocks and I can’t really damage them and there’s SO FRIKKIN MANY that I refuse to clean them individually.

So now that you’ve gotten through that long-winded but necessary explanation of terms, where are we at? Since I’m a bioarchaeologist and I prefer things that were once alive to the general detritus of human society, we’re gonna start with the bone. Specifically, we’re gonna start with how I know those two pits from yesterday’s post are one pit. This is how:

This is a deer bone. Don’t ask me which one bc I’m really not good at ID’ing species and animal anatomy, but it’s a leg bone of some kind. See how it’s broken? One piece was found in one hole and the other piece was in the other. Clearly it’s the same animal, ergo the pits are related to each other. The vast majority of what came out of that particular feature was bone, with the rest being charcoal and the occasional pot sherd. This means it was probably used for cooking and not as a garbage pit. Also there was food in it, if you recall the cooking accident from yesterday. but sometimes y’know, stuff falls into the fire pit or it’s put in there as a way of disposing of it.

But wait, I have more cool animal bones!!

Ok, so there’s this one:

This bone has a special place in my heart. IDK what species it is (I *think* it’s a fragment of deer long bone.), but that’s not why it’s cool. This single bone is strong evidence for the presence of dogs. =D See that circular mark on the right? That is the impression of a canine tooth from a carnivore. Human teeth can’t make those marks in bones - our teeth aren’t strong enough to do significant damage to bone, and anyway we tend to crack bones open with rocks (a form of damage called percussion marks.) and not with our teeth. Those other longer scratch marks are also likely from chewing, not butchery, because they’re in the right places and they’re the right shape. Now we know this was a settlement, and this bone was found smack in the middle surrounded by human detritus and not on the fringes or outskirts. There were no domesticated felines in the Americas at the time BC this is from the lower pre-contact level, so what’s really the only carnivore that would be wandering around a human settlement? Dogs. I love this kinda stuff because it’s so easy see them chilling around the fire pit, talking and eating, teasing whomever it was that spilled dinner, and then tossing the bones to their dogs to gnaw on after dinner. It’s just such a people kind of thing, you know? All from one small, circular mark. I actually found more on later bones that came out of other places, so it’s pretty safe to say there were dogs living here with their people even though we have found neither people nor dogs.

So here’s another cool bone:

Again, no idea what species it is bc I’m not a zooarch (yes, there are archaeologists that specialize in animals and wooooo boy can they tell you a LOT about migration and eating habits of people.). It’s about the size of half my thumb, IE, not large. This one is cool, and it’s the only one I have like this, because of that notch you can see vertically in the image on the right hand side. I don’t know what it was for, but I DO know that it was an intentionally made modification to the bone. Those striations aren’t natural - natural bone is smooth or has a very specific texture and this isn’t that. It’s probably not damage done to the bone after it was deposited in the archaeological record. It has the same patina as the majority of the rest of the bone, which you can compare to the lighter area there on the right hand end of the bone. That lighter area does not have the patina of age that the rest of the bone does, and is the result of damage in a much more recent time - probably as we were taking it out of the ground. Small bones are fragile. So someone gouged this channel intentionally in this bone, either because they were going to use it as decoration or it served some purpose as a tool. I’m not really sure what though. Hell, they could have just been bored and fidgeting after eating. Either way, it’s a human modification to this bone that has nothing to do with cooking or consumption (damage from human consumption is cracks and breaks, not scrapes.). It could also be a butchery mark, although it’s a bit deep for that. Butchery marks are there from separation of meat from bone - they’re usually just shallow scrapes.

Ok, last cool bone I’m gonna show you. Well, bones, plural.

Ok so this is part of the same assemblage as the ones above, and if I remember correctly these were the ones that came out of that pit. You can see the same bone with the canine tooth mark there in the center. There’s also some interesting things like some pottery on the left and a couple teeth off to the right (one is a deer and I *think* that curved on is a squirrel.), but the really interesting thing is the series of 3 shiny bones that are in the center. There’s a lot of ways to cook meat, and they all do different things to bones. You will often find the dry, brown looking ones like you can see here in the non-shiny bones. That’s like...your basic “this bone had meat on it when it was cooked”. Then you’ll see ones that are black, and that’s “this bone probably didn’t have meat when it was cooked, or someone tossed it back in the fire when they were done”. Lastly, you’ll see white bone, and that’s a bone that has been burned at a high temperature for a long time. Usually it’s done on purpose (you can use burned, powdered bone to make stuff.).

But the shiny ones were in a soup. And the reason I know that is *because* they’re shiny. Bones, especially old ones, aren’t shiny. I mean...you can see that. You have to do stuff to ‘em. And bones are porous, but those weren’t. They felt like hard plastic. And they get that way by being boiled. The shiny patina is what we call pot polish - they were stirred in the soup while it was cooking and rubbed against the side of the pot and each other, and it gives them a smoother texture.

All of these collections of bones tell us what and how they ate things. I know from what I can ID here (which isn’t everything, trust me.) that they ate a lot of deer and wild turkey (we have an entire almost completely intact turkey long bone.). There is also, I believe, squirrel (I found a portion of a skull and jaw that I’m pretty sure belong to a squirrel), and an assortment of other small rodents and birds. Lots of birds. Bird bone is really distinctive, it’s light and the spongy bone has a distinct texture. A zooarchaeologist can look at bones like this and ID species and age, and from there tell you what time year something was probably killed. Societies that hunted a lot tended to do it seasonally so that they wouldn’t damage the populations. Plus especially with fish and stuff they have very specific growing cycles and short lifespans, so they can also tell you a lot about where the people were hunting and when. Like certain fish will only spawn in certain places, so it’s really informative. Zooarchs are so important and there just aren’t enough of them.

Anyway, there are other cool things in the bones but I’m trying to strike a balance here between too much and not enough and I really love bone so I’m going to stop here for today. Tomorrow is going to be other artefacts (yeah, sadly, even lithics, lol), and what they tell us about the site and the people who lived there. As an aside: if anyone has any like just general “how do they know this?” sort of questions about history and archaeology those would be fun to answer. I love to tell people how we do things but I don’t just wanna infodump. I DO want to explain procedure in what I hope is a readable way because I think understanding how we make the sausage will help people have more trust in science. So if you have any questions, please, send asks. If I don’t know the answer I’ll research it or pass it on to someone who does.

#archaeology #science #bone #animals #native food #native americans #kyidylCL

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