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the-star-knight · 1 year

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Tales Of A Star

Summary: A retelling of the show through Star’s eyes

Star is young teenager, daughter to one of the Queen's handmaiden and the royal stable keeper, when the long lost princess has soon to be held coronation, she comes across a magical stone. Unknowingly of how this is her destiny, she soon finds out that this gem turns her world on its head, giving her a sword, armor, and a duty she must carry: protecting the Kingdom of Corona.

Chapter 12 - Beyond Corona Walls (Part 1)

Word Count: 2,291

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It's been almost a week since we departed from Corona. The past week has been quite exhausting, to say the least. All thanks to Rapunzel, we were sidetracked a couple of times. I couldn’t blame her for it, she was having the time of her life. I would join too if I were in the mood. For the last couple of days, I've been trying to adjust to life on the road.

It's honestly a big shake-up from life in Corona.

“Next stop: Vardaros!” Hookfoot yelled.

“City of fun and games!” Lance also sprung up from the trapdoor on top of the roof of the caravan.

“I am so glad we brought those two along,” Cass said sarcastically. She was the driver of the caravan, sitting in the front alongside me while holding the reins.

“Ah, come on, Cass! Vardaros is an amazing city! You’re gonna have fun. Which I’m guessing is a new thing for you!” Eugene joked.

I snorted. It was kind of funny.

“Come on Pascal! It’s our first big city outside of Corona. You heard him, Cass, this is gonna be fun!” Rapunzel beamed. “Vardaros, here we come!”

Continue reading on AO3 or continue under the cut ⬇︎

“Not that you shouldn't trust the endorsement of three lifetime criminals, Raps, but maybe you should trust me too,” Cassandra said. “I’m just making sure we don’t lose sight of what we’re doing out here.”

“I know. Believe me, Cass,” Rapunzel pulled out a torn piece of a scroll. “I feel like whatever is waiting for us at the end of this road, is only part of why we’re out here.”

She rolled up the torn scroll and put it safely in her bag.

I always wondered what the drawings on the scroll meant. There was the drawing of the sunflower that had healing powers and a drawing of the sun, but it also seemed there was something else. Perhaps we will find those missing pieces on this journey.

I began to second-guess my choice of leaving Corona. The thought enters my head every so often. Now, I’m officially a knight of Corona. I have a duty to protect the kingdom, and what’s the first thing I do as a knight? Leave, of course. Now I realize how bad my decision looks. Maybe, I should’ve stayed in Corona…

Rapunzel sensed something wasn’t right with me.

“Are you still not gonna wear your new uniform?” Rapunzel asked abruptly, breaking my train of thought.

I shook my head, “No, I just figured I wouldn’t want to draw any attention.”

“Attention?” she blinked.

“Well, yeah, I don’t want to wear something that yells Corona.”

“Pfft! The uniform doesn’t say that!”

I pulled it out from the bag next to me. I unfolded the uniform in front of her and right smack dab in the middle of it had the Corona crest embroidered on it with silver threads on the backside. “Really?”

“Okay, okay, okay, maybe I went a little crazy with the embroidery,” Rapunzel scratched her head, “but I can fix it!”

Rapunzel got up and took the uniform into the caravan.

“That’s not the real reason why you don’t want to wear it, is it?” Cass asked.

I sighed, she was right, “Yeah…”

“Why wouldn’t you want to wear it? That was a gift from the royal family and for you being knighted. Corona hasn’t had a knight in centuries, you know?”

“And I appreciate it, I really do! It’s just that…”

“Just what?”

I sighed, “It...it doesn’t feel right …Ever since the day I was knighted at the Star Knight, I’ve felt like I didn’t deserve it…”

“Didn’t deserve it? Ha,” Cassandra chuckled. “You defeated Varian.”

“But, that’s the thing, I didn’t defeat Varian, Rapunzel did…” I inhaled sharply, “He was right, I’m not a hero. I couldn’t even protect myself…I let my friends get hurt because of me...all because I was too weak.”

“Hey,” Cass elbowed me gently, “If anyone deserves to be called a hero, it’s you. What you did out there was brave of you.”

“Thanks,” I said with an emptiness in my voice. As much as Cass and other people around me say it, I don’t believe it.

We eventually stopped so the horses could rest up.

I stepped out and stretched my body. Sitting in a caravan for hours felt like an eternity.

As I stretched my legs, I thought I heard something. I looked up and just saw Cass with Fidella the horse. Okay, maybe it was nothing, I thought to myself.

Then I heard it again. This time Cassandra heard it too. We looked at each other basically telling each other we needed to find where that noise was coming from.

We looked around the area. Cass looked at the caravan and went to the small wooden door that led to the supply compartment. She clicked her tongue and gestured to the door. We got closer and Cass put her finger over her lips, indicating to stay silent.

With one swift movement, she yanked the door open and something fell out.

We yelled and everyone came out wondering what happened, but upon looking at what fell out the fear quickly disappeared and was replaced with a uniform feeling of irritation.

Inside the caravan compartment was Shorty. From what we managed to extract from his story, he must’ve climbed in there when no one was looking because of all the food that was stored there, which he ate all of. So we now don’t have any supplies left.

Eugene suggested he should go into town to get more supplies, but then Rapunzel wanted to volunteer too. I think something was in the air because they were bickering, I guess, about who should head into town, it seemed like they might’ve been talking about something else…

Cass eventually has enough. She put her foot down. “Guys, I can’t take it anymore! Enough! No one is going for a walk! Let’s just take the caravan to town! Together!”

⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎

We weren’t too far from the city. When we got out, however, it was different from what Lance and Eugene had told us.

“Vardaros, here we co–oh uh!” Lance said excitedly until he saw the city. “Eww.”

It was comparable to a barren wasteland. The once vivid city had been reduced to only a mere shadow of what it was. Broken down buildings, hardly any people there. Heck, I think I saw a tumbleweed pass by.

“Wow, guys you were right!” Cassandra said ironically. “This is great! What do you wanna do first? Get matching face tattoos? Or see if we can get a deal on a rusty hatchet? Oh, I know! Let’s see who can catch the plague first!”

“I don’t understand. What happened?” Eugene scratched his head.

“Come on guys. Maybe it’s not exactly how you remembered it. But that doesn’t mean it’s not a fun-loving city!” Rapunzel was optimistic as always. She approached a teen girl with dark braided hair. “Hello, there. We are new in town. My name’s—”

“Get lost,” she responded abrasively.

Okay, wow, rude.

“Maybe you should hold off on the introductions. Something tells me if word got out that actual royalty was in town we could be in trouble.” Cass warns her.

Eugene butted in. “You know I hate saying this but she’s right. Let’s keep a lower profile, princess. We’ll get the supplies, you guys get the caravan back up to camp. The last thing you need is for someone to recognize you.”

Rapunzel looked like she wanted to argue back but didn’t. She went back to the caravan.

⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎

I decided to stay with the princess and Cassandra back at the campsite. I wasn’t really interested in staying back in Vardaros, from the looks of it, it didn’t have much to offer.

Rapunzel sat at the edge of the caravan painting in her journal. Cass leaned on the caravan as she sharpened her sword with a rock that she found on the way here. I tried to make myself look busy but I just swung my legs in the air, sitting at the other edge of the caravan.

I fibbed. I wasn’t sure what I was gonna do. I could write a letter to my family, but it’s only been a week and nothing big has happened. If the rest of the trip was going to be like this then I guess my letters wouldn’t be too fun to read about.

Reading! Of course! Ugh, how could I forget that I brought books with me on this journey—

“He asked you to marry him again, huh?” Cassandra’s voice interrupted my train of thought.

Rapunzel, startled, closed her journal.

“Wait, what do you mean ‘marry you’ again? ” I squeaked out. “When was the first time?”

“Remember the coronation ceremony?”

“Oh, yeah! I almost forgot! My mom told me about that.”

Cass turns her attention back to Rapunzel and scoffs. “Come on! I know you guys well enough by now!”

“I-I guess he maybe asked me…” Rapunzel’s voice sounded unsure, which didn’t happen often. Usually, she was very sure of herself.

“Well, what did you maybe say?”

“I didn’t say anything. And I’m not sure why,” Rapunzel sighed.

We heard someone clear their throat before cutting in saying, “Oh, I can tell you why.”

That voice didn’t sound like anyone we knew. We looked behind the caravan and a woman was leaning back against the caravan, eating an apple. She was quite tall. She had white hair. Half of her face was painted red. Her clothes were interesting…they sort of resembled the clothes of the women of Ingvarr. I wonder if she is from Ingvarr, she seems like one of the warrior ladies from Ingvarr.

”You got bigger things lying ahead of you,” she said as she took a bite from her apple. “Greetings.”

“I’m sorry. Who are you exactly?” Rapunzel asked.

“Oh, right, sorry! Princess Rapunzel, my name is Adira.”

“And what do you want, Adira?” Cass abrasively. She became more protective of Rapunzel.

“A word with Rapunzel alone. If you don't mind.”

Adira approaches Rapunzel, however, Cass immediately stops her by putting her hand on her shoulder. “Not gonna happen.”

“Just a second, Cass,” Rapunzel says. “Let’s hear her out.”

“Okay, I gotta be honest. I know we just met but, uh, I’m not a big fan of people touching me,” Adira looked down at Cassandra’s hand on her shoulder.

“And I’m not a fan of people who lurk in the shadows,” Cass replied.

I sensed that this was escalating too quickly.

“Okay, last chance to do this the nice way,” Adira grabs Cassandra’s arm by her wrist.

“And where’s the fun in that?” Cass smiled.

“Cass, no! Wait.” Rapunzel yelled, trying to stop them from going further, but it was too late. Adira grabs her arm and spins Cass around and launches her several feet from her.

“Hey, I don’t know who you are,” Rapunzel yelled. “But you do not get to do that to my best friend!” Then, she charged toward her with a pan.

“Alright then.”

It didn't take too long for her to disable Rapunzel. She ended up wrapped up in her hair.

Then, there was me.

I hate how I sensed it was my turn to fight. I felt my heart race at the thought of fighting Adira. She is probably triple my size.

My necklace sensed how nervous I was and glowed. In a millisecond, I was in my full armor and sword in hand.

“Hm, that’s strange. Never seen that before,” she said in response to my transformation, which is pretty nonchalant compared to the other reactions in my experience.

I gripped the sword’s end, er…whatever it is called, tighter. I got into a stance (not even sure if it is correct). There, I realized that the last time I transformed into my armor was back in, well, Old Corona.

“Oh, please, I’m not going to fight a child,” Adira said.

“What! I’m not a child!” I protested. “I’m going to be sixteen!” I gripped my sword with both hands and pointed toward her.

“She can’t even hold a sword properly!” Adira criticized my swordsmanship.

I lunged and, of course, she dodged it.

All three of us were trying to get a hit off her but no one was even close to even scratching her. Three people!

“You guys aren’t even trying,” Adira said. Rapunzel threw her pan at Adira but she caught it in mid-air. “Oh, wait, you are,” she said unamusingly.

“That’s it!” Cassandra jumps up and slashes toward Adira, but, what seemed on instinct, she turns, avoiding her sword. Her hands clasped behind her back. With her leg and her hands still clasped, she managed to knock Cassandra’s sword from her hands and knock Cass off her feet.

She smiled at her and gave Cass her hand.

“Enough!” Rapunzel wraps her hair around Adira’s hand.

“Yeah, see. I thought we covered this.” Adira grabs her sword from her back. “I don’t like being touched!”

She lashed down her sword at Rapunzel’s hair, but it only tugged from the force. The hair was uncut.

“It didn’t cut?” Adira was shocked.

“It didn’t break?” Rapunzel was equally surprised at Adira’s sword. “It must be made of—”

“Princess! Cass!” We heard a panicked voice from a distance.

It was Hookfoot, coming out of breath.

“Are you ok?” Rapunzel asked.

“I see you have your hands full.” Adira let go of her hair. “I’ll seek you later.” With that, she left.

Rapunzel turns her attention back to Hookfoot.

“I fought as hard as I could and barely got out alive,” he said out of breath.

“Wait, wait, fight? Fought who?” Rapunzel began to worry. “Where’s Eugene?”

“I’m so sorry…they took him.”

#tangled the series #tangled fanfiction #tangled the series fanfiction #fanfic #tales of a star #My writing #MY OCs #tangled the series au

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dourpeep · 3 years

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i have even more ideas now...

what about like the moment you open up about your relationship with kazuxiao the fans who were already seeing that happen were celebrating and on both of y'alls insta or something is where you announce and it's like a picture of all 3 of you chilling together or something

and then when they finally appear on a variety show they're just questioned throughly and they talk about how you guys meet and what they like about you

ok but the moments where you just feel sort of insecure since being an idol is hard and you're technically dating your seniors and you're just hit by the antis who are against yourself relationship so you lock yourself in your room in your dorm by yourself to cope. your roommate (can be whoever) contacts them both and they immediately come over and come in and offer soft kisses and soft murmurs of reassurance that they'll never leave you and that everything's gonna be ok.

side note i can see xiao just being a whole meme without realizing?? for like variety shows he's just known for his dead pan expression and then i can see him being so competitive on shows like running man..mans ripping tags left and right, while kazuhas just hiding in a weird spot or something

kazuha on the other hand i can see him being a troll, he likes to mess around with the hosts of the show and manages to mess up some of their plans, he also likes messing with his group members, where xiao likes to say that kazuha looks innocent but is a part of the devil line with venti

onto albedo i can see him like answering questions in his vlive and fans realize that a lot of his songs are more romantic and sort of pining?? and they're asking where the motivation is from. he answers that it's just something that he saw recently so he felt motivated (it wasn't the fact that he had realized that he was 100% in love with you)

but like all of this mans inspiration comes from you, he's had multiple songs dedicated to you before your relationship was even open to the public, and when your relationship finally does, it just clicks for fans and it suddenly makes sense, your ship name trends worldwide for the day

but how you and albedo met, i can see both of you guys being in the industry already and you guys are sort of know each other but it was for a one time off collab with other artists involved so you didn't really talk with each other. like i said before albedos a solo artist while i can see you being a part of a popular group already. but then both of your companies decided to do another collab and especially picked you two since you guys already worked on a collab before.

at first it was like awkward since albedos really socially awkward but then things click when you guys start writing the song together. everything just matches so well?? and you guys just compliment each other?? and that's when you learn of albedo just staying at the studio so late so you often bring food. this leads to you guys getting closer and albedo even stops his work just to talk to you more. when your song comes out and everyone is waiting for the stage, there's just so much tension?? but the good kinda and everyone is awed by the song and the vocals coming from you and albedo.

i can also see the both of you guys appearing on variety shows together too, like appearing on a show where you two travel to another place and experience the culture there, with albedo being your tour guide and showing you all the famous places (one of the many times where fans were awed by his research and knowledge) and then if you guys were to appear together again after you guys reveal your relationship, a lot of the times they show idols as they wake up, they'll see you and albedo being clingy af to each other.

on another side note, albedos totally a troll on variety shows, he likes messing around with the hosts and other contestants since a lot of the time he's not really interested in the show itself, it's more for publicity. however, when he first appeared on a show with you fans noticed that he actually seemed interested for once and that's where your ship name started.

albedos totally a golden child tho, he's like basically perfect in everything so a lot of the times variety shows don't catch him slipping, however the one time that he did was when you were mentioned, the clip of with his ears bright red was trending for a couple of days :)

GIVING ME SO MUCH GOOD FOOD THANK YOU ANON

I think that this covers everything hehehe so I won't add to-

wait wait I put it all under the cut b/c it's a lot again-

Okay okay but like for the 'announcement' picture, what if it's like those photo booth pics (but like each picture you need to scroll through like on Insta) where it's cute and wholesome! The three of you are having fun wearing some silly glasses or hats, doing peace signs or finger hearts....and the very last photo is the three of you sharing a kiss- or, at least trying to.

It's sweet, a little silly, and most of your fans take it really well! After all, they can see the chemistry that you share and can't deny that the three of you would have a good relationship.

As for the insecurities of dating your seniors, Kazuha and Xiao are quick to knock back any of those worries. They love you so, so much and hate the fact that something like that makes you doubt for a single second. If anyone ever tries to bring it up, you know that they're going to immediately quip back.

Naturally, you're roomed with Venven :D He's technically an up-and-coming after he stopped doing idol stuff for a few years, so not only does he know the ropes, but he's also one of your biggest fans and biggest supports (outside of Kazuha and Xiao).

Though he's silly and light-hearted, he's quick to recognize when things are serious and need handling.

So as soon as he sees that you're not doing so great or if he notices the comments on your posts are going in a bad direction, he speed dials Xiao and the two of your boyfriends are right at the door in under 15.

Not only are they fast about it, but they have all your favorite snacks, a movie or two, some popcorn, and a ton of love and affection because they'll be damned if their love is going to be affected by some asshole's comments about their love life! What do they know anyway??

Actually this all could work too if Kazuha and Xiao are part of 4NEMO-

Hmmm

That'd cause so much more ruckus- not only is half of one of the most popular idol groups are taken, but by the same person??? And each other??? Man, that's wack.

BUT THE GAMESHOWS

Xiao would most certainly be super intense with those. He just can't help it--competition drives his blood and makes something snap in him. He's dead serious about doing well, regardless of the game. I actually have never watched said game shows, but--

Like...he's out for blood. No one is safe. Not even you or Kazuha if you're on opposing teams, though he'll be a bit more gentle. Maybe even with the hint of a smile while you have an expression of utter shock at the fact that he's just so fast-

Or if it's not a game show and instead you're doing some sort of idol group activity with a few others to get to know each other?

Someone suggests ping pong and, knowing how competitive Xiao gets, he's pitted up against Tartaglia and man. That's scary. There's no doubt that someone would clip the video and make it into an overly-dramatic retelling complete with music.

Hilarious.

As for Kazuha! He'd be a bit of a mish mosh! He enjoys poking fun at others, and he's so sly! Those poor hosts don't realize that he's goading them on, but sure enough--he is. Who knew that his charming smile and mild-mannered attitude could be so devastating?

But even then, he's mostly wholesome! There's a lot of little clips, mostly of your doing, of him in a 'kiss the chef' apron getting caught off guard while cooking something up. The videos aren't great because you're giggling while recording and he ends up placing the ladle down calmly before wrapping you up in his arms. Half the video ends up being the two of you laughing and joking while it's pointed at a weird angle towards the counter.

Sometimes it'll point just right and you'll get a half-blurred view of Xiao sitting at the kitchen island with his reading glasses perched on his nose and book forgotten. He tends to get up and join in for a few smooches before reminding Kazuha of the food that's still cooking.

Albedo!! He absolutely is the golden child. He's fantastic handling things under pressure in a cool, calm manner. Handsome, charismatic, incredibly smart--man's hit all the stops and just keeps going.

It's not until it comes out that the two of you are together that his cool façade (hardly one, though) falters and at the mere mention of you, he'll go soft. There's a tenderness in his eyes, a small smile on his lips, and his blush? Absolutely adorable. How can anyone object when he's obviously so in love with you?

And the idea you mentioned with the two of you traveling and experiencing stuff together sounds so cute (':

He particularly enjoys exploring new cuisine, so expect him to feed you some food from his plate-

There's also a few times where you two have gotten lost in the new places, more because you're both so busy taking in the sights to realize you've taken five wrong turns- But then you make it into a whole adventure, foregoing the map and deciding to wander around. What better way to discover and learn about somewhere than getting lost and wandering?

You find quite a few hidden gems this way since otherwise you'd be hitting more popular areas!

Wait- do they really show idols waking up???

Ahh regardless, Albedo's definitely a cuddler. He loves it, can't get enough of it. It's not often that he gets a good night's rest, but with you it seems like he's fully recharged and ready for the day! It's cute too because it doesn't matter--big spoon or little spoon, you on his chest or him resting on yours. Even a few times with you facing each other with your hands intertwined.

I also agree that Albedo would mess with the game show's hosts and contestants. Not only would he, but he'd be entirely smug about it (after all, we need to have that #smugbedo going on).

No doubt, there's been times where the cameras even focus/zoom in on him where he's sitting because he's got that smirk on his face.

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mymegumi · 3 years

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SUNRISE OVER TOKYO

pairing: kuroo tetsuro x gn!reader

genre: fluff

word count: 5.3k words

warnings: nekomata!reader, minor character death and post timeskip

summary: as nekomata’s only grandchild, you’d always felt indebted to him in a way and found time to meet him almost everyday. through the years, you’d heard all the stories he’d wanted to tell of his favorite volleyball team and his travails as a younger man. by chance, you meet the captain of his glory day team who’s everything you didn’t know that you needed.

note: thank you to cass ( @misutv ) for the plot and for basically the whole idea, you’re a real one and ik daddy shemar would be proud of you

↬ back to nav.

The morning air was crisp, and there were still drops of dew hanging onto the blades of grass in the sitting area of the retirement home. The sun had barely risen over the horizon, and yet the sky was already vibrantly cerulean, pale white clouds blotting out the golden rays.

“It’s lovely out today,” you murmured softly, as if speaking any louder would disturb the calm of the early morning, “I’m glad you convinced me to take you out.”

“Of course!” Your grandfather, unlike yourself, had a booming voice, one he’d used to carve his presence into the minds of everyone around him. His smile was infectious and warm, like the feeling of drinking a cup of hot chocolate on a chilling winter day. “I’m not sure how often you’re let out of your little office to soak up the rays; people forget how often we are like plants, needing the warm summer sun to help us grow and expand into our fullest potentials.”

You loved your grandpa, you really did. He had been the one who had raised you when your parents passed away, taken too soon from you and yet never failing to make sure you had everything you needed in life. Even despite all of the hardships, like money and worrying about your education, he had made sure you always felt the love that children had gotten from their parents.

He tended to ramble a lot, though, and sometimes you just didn’t listen to him all the way. He was, as many old people were, a talker and you were sure that he could chat with you all day if you let him.

“Mhm,” you gripped the handles of his wheelchair a bit harder, pushing him along the pathway of the retirement home, concrete underneath your shoes hard, “they don’t really let us take breaks and take in the air.”

He tutted, tongue hitting the roof of his mouth in annoyance when you said it, and the action of it had you rolling your eyes because you knew he couldn’t see you from where you were standing. “It’s just like corporations these days to be preventing our youth from going outside. When my volleyball team was at its peak, we spent every summer day in the gym with the doors open and the breeze flitting through like a dancer.”

This was usually where you started to tune back into what he was saying, hoping that you could catch glimpses of his self-proclaimed glory days. The volleyball team had been his pride and joy when he was still coaching high schoolers, kids who worked their butts off to get to the national stage and play their rivals.

“Tell me about the team again, grandpa,” you requested, holding the door open to the retirement home as another pair of people left. He gave you a glance over his shoulder, eyes bright with amusement as you flushed, feeling the heat crawl along the nape of your neck.

“Anything for you, sweet one.”

Yasufumi was always kind to your requests, taking each one in step despite the embarrassment they seemed to bring you. You had been at Nekoma when the golden era of his volleyball team was still in action, but you had been going through a rebellious phase, often trying to turn away from the interests and endeavors of your older guardian.

It had only been when he retired from coaching and you had entered into the workforce that you truly had begun to listen to his words of wisdom, each one carried in your heart to serve as a lesson or a purpose for the things you did everyday. He only ever told you those stories when you asked for them—to pull out the fact that you enjoyed listening to him talk about volleyball, or to embarrass you over the fact that you had missed out on meeting many of the young men he was talking about, you wouldn’t know. Instead, he would talk about things that had happened at the retirement center, each one more confusing than the last and the list of unbelievable things that happened never ending.

Yasufumi watched you settle into the chair nearest to one of the windows, shifting uncomfortably in the small wooden chair that the retirement home gave to visitors in the common area, which was now a bit busier since it was later in the morning. People were walking around and talking amongst each other, and somewhere in the distance, you saw a pair of people playing chess at one of the tables outside.

“When the third years were just first years,” he starts, hands folded over themselves and sitting in his lap, “they argued almost constantly. The youngest of the bunch seemed to have a grudge against the shortest of the group that had lasted until they hit my gym floor; listening to them argue was just about the only other noise you’d hear in the gym besides the oldest of the group trying to mediate them.”

Yasufumi leaned back a bit in his wheelchair, joints in his leg creaking and moaning as he adjusted himself. His legs weren’t completely gone, but it was bad enough that you had sought out a doctor to prescribe him a wheelchair.

“Those boys were at each other’s throats for as long as I can remember, and it’s honestly a surprise that they had ended up working out their differences long enough to make anything of themselves.” His smile was filled with warmth and reminded you of your youth with him, every day filled with laughter. “My fondest memories of the team was during their third year, and they put in the best work during that era.”

Your grandfather’s face talking of this era brought feelings of melancholy for you, filled with a regret that you had missed out on his favorite remembrance of high school. If you had only been less filled with a need to rebel and push away, not knowing the value of being by his side until it was almost too late.

He talked to you for hours, retelling the stories of his volleyball team and the things that they had endured when they finally ended up going to nationals to meet their rivals for the first time in what had seemed like years. When you watched him talk, your heart clenched tightly in your chest the way his face portrayed the emotions of an insufferably saccharine past, as if he knew that his age was finally catching up to him.

In your own self loathing, you wished you had met the men that had shaped your grandfather’s glory days and that you had put in more of an effort to become friends with them because they seemed like people that you could have been friends with. You knew that Yasufumi would have appreciated seeing more than just you at the retirement home, but you didn’t have any contact information for you to reach out and see if they would like to come visit.

You had a feeling they would, though, because bonds forged through the trials of sports seemed to run deeper than any others. Giving your grandfather a brief goodbye, you tucked the visit into the part of your heart that each visit went into, for safekeeping on days you wouldn’t be able to see him again.

The next time you visited Nekomata Yasufumi, you were mildly surprised when the receptionist told you that there were already a group of three young men visiting him out in the recreation area. When you signed your name, the three signatures above yours were in a messy scrawl of young adults that were still adjusting to having to sign their name on legal documents; Nobuyuki Kai, Yaku Morisuke and Kuroo Tetsuro.

Despite being prepared for more people when you enter into the common area, you were taken aback by the sheer noise that was coming from the group gathered nearest to your grandfather—a group that was laughing happily over something you couldn’t understand while the tallest of them had a volleyball tucked underneath his arm.

“Oh! There’s the fifth of our group.” Your grandpa called out to you after he spotted you walking in, bag set on one of the hooks at the front for coats and bags. His smile was infectious and before you knew it, there was a smile spreading across your lips. “Let’s move outside, now, we can do introductions on the lawn.”

Your laughter was soft as you made your way to your grandfather’s wheelchair, hands reaching for the grips out of instinct before the tallest of the group, someone you vaguely remember from high school since his hair was so distinguishable, stopped you.

He looked at you with an air of lightness around him, as if he were carefree. “Hey, I got it.”

“Thanks.” You nodded your head to him, lips pulling into a slight smile as you walked around to your grandfather’s side, giving the taller man—whose hair was absolutely atrocious—one last curious glance.

“Kuroo,” your grandfather’s tone was chiding, “you didn’t even introduce yourself.”

“You said we were doing introductions on the lawn!” The man’s tone was light and joking, looking down at the older man before lightly patting down on his shoulder, “I know you’re old, but your memory isn’t going, now is it?”

“You wish it was,” Yasufumi retorted with an eyeroll, arms crossing over his chest, “that way I’d forget about that time you’d flubbed a receive you had claimed would be so easy to get.”

Kuroo, as you had just recently learned was his name, made a noise of distress that landed somewhere in the back of his throat, face twisted in distaste with blotches of pink dusting across his cheekbones and bridge of his nose. “I thought you had forgotten about that, that was so long ago!”

“I’d never forget things that embarrass you,” he joked breezily, wrinkly hand reaching up to grab your hand in his, “because you were insufferable in high school!”

Kuroo turned to you, then, making sure you were looking at him before dipping his head low in a simple greeting. His hair fell a bit, ends drooping and covering up more of his eyes from your gaze. “I’m Kuroo Tetsuro. It’s lovely to meet you, Mx. Nekomata.”

“Ah,” you started, hand coming up to wave him off as you felt a rush of heat crawl along the back of your neck at his sudden attention, “my name actually isn’t Nekomata. My mother took her husband’s last name.”

You gave him your name, body heating up just a bit too much when he repeated it—you loved the way his mouth rolled over the vowels and consonants of your name. When you gave him a nod of confirmation after he got it right, the grin he gave you back was almost blinding.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you!”

Now on the front lawn and standing just in front of the pair of other men that were talking amongst themselves, you bowed quickly after offering the both of them your name. Mixed between their smiles and the contagious energy that was Yaku and Kuroo, the energy was nowhere near as awkward as you had feared upon meeting your grandfather’s golden era third years.

Before you know it, the four of you were coerced into playing a few rounds of volleyball—nothing serious and almost incredibly competitive.

Paired together with Kuroo, the man was heartwarmingly kind in a way that you hadn’t been expecting from a man of his nature. In the few interactions you had had with him, you had expected more teasing, almost like you were expecting to have been poked and prodded until he figured out the way your cogs turned. In a nice turn of events, he was simply just the type of man that liked to provoke his friends to get them out of a funk if they were to experience any sort of failure; as often Kuroo would make some sort of misconstrued comment about Nobuyuki if he missed an easy to block to spike.

In between lifting the mood should it turn sour, Kuroo was also effortlessly teaching you the sport you’d avoided all throughout your youth. In avoiding your caretaker, you’d also managed to put learning volleyball on the back burner of things you wanted to do in high school and you’d never learned a lick of it.

Yaku was shouting encouraging words from across the way to you, but after a few minutes you’d ended up tapping out for a quick break. Nobuyuki had offered to step out too, and that left the blond to play a game of volley with Kuroo, the two bantering off handedly while your grandfather was laughing.

It wasn’t often that you saw his expression as bright as you did then, as you were often only met with a sage face when he told you anecdotes to not waste away your early years. There was something in your chest that ached seeing his expression so freely filled with joy, since you knew that some days he wasn’t even capable of getting to his wheelchair. Those days seemed to be making more frequent appearances as of late.

Pushing that thought to the back of your mind, instead you called out to the pair of boys that you wanted to go back to playing a two-on-two. At Nobuyuki’s protests, you had teased him that he would be beat out by a person who didn’t even exercise regularly, which had brought out a whole other slew of arguments. It took your grandfather’s chiding to get the mini game back on track again.

With Kuroo as your teammate, and your grandfather barking out orders to you that you took with a grain of salt, you were only marginally better at the sport by the end of their visit.

Yaku and Nobuyuki had left only minutes earlier, both giving you their well wishes and offering to come visit Yasufumi again when they got the chance. He had only waved them off, telling them to get a significant other before coming back to him.

Kuroo had ended up staying for a bit longer, citing that the game had winded him more now that he was no longer playing volleyball, instead working for the entire association as a whole. You just barely missed the nod of approval your grandpa gave him at his career choice, as if giving him approval for something else.

The three of you had settled into a trio of seats in the common area. By now, most of the people that were visiting loved ones had continued on, leaving the space almost empty. That was in your favor, however, as it meant your grandfather could establish a little spot for himself by one of the love seats, meaning you’d been at Kuroo’s side while the two of them reminisced of days of old.

The stories they swapped with each other ranged from Kuroo’s earliest volleyball days, to Yasufumi’s days playing against Karasuno’s now departed oldest coach. The thought had soured the mood, and despite Kuroo’s best efforts to return it back to normal, your grandfather had instead insisted that the pair of you go back to your normal lives, as opposed to entertaining an old man’s memories. It had been a clear time for the two of you to leave, which found you both walking to the parking lot.

“Do you often visit your grandfather?” Kuroo had his hands intertwined behind his back, walking casually as he glanced at you.

You nodded, looking back at him with a warmth somewhere in your chest developing. “Yeah, as often as I can. I’m usually here when I have days off, since I’m the only grandkid he had.”

Coughing into his hand, he spun his keyring around his finger as he started to slow his pace to match yours. You had a feeling he didn’t want to leave your side yet, and just the thought made you smile to yourself.

“You were really good with him, do you have a good relationship with your grandparents?”

Kuroo laughed, a loud one that came from the deep parts of his chest, like you had just told one of the funniest jokes he had ever heard. “Oh, you don’t know the half of it. I had a pretty shitty relationship with my parents, so my grandparents practically raised me. You learn how to deal with older people after a while, and Coach Nekomata had always been like a father figure to me growing up.”

“I get that,” you admitted, turning your head to try and remember where you had parked your car, “it’s hard, sometimes. I love my grandpa, though, and I don’t think I’d trade this experience for anything.”

Kuroo’s smile held a note of forbearance, as if he wanted to tell you something but bit his tongue at the last second. Instead of questioning it, as you normally would if you had more confidence, you just hit the unlock button on your car keys—the car just next to the two of you lighting up and beeping happily.

“This must be you.” He rubbed a hand over the nape of his neck anxiously, and you could have sworn he had something else to say. Instead, you got, “I’ll see you later then, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Nodding your head, you watched him walk further into the parking lot, head shaking slightly.

You had some sort of intuition that wouldn’t be the last you’d see of him, and on your third visit to see your grandfather after the Nekoma third years visited, your premonition of another meeting had been granted.

Signing your name into the guest book, you recognized Kuroo’s looping scrawl a few lines above where you were going to sign. Seeing it in there, you unconsciously straightened your back up a bit, shoulders pushing back to adjust your posture into something a bit more sightly. The receptionist just gave you a warm smile that made the tips of your ears burn.

With that bit of forewarning, walking into the common area to see your grandfather talking to Kuroo wasn’t a surprise.

“Darling!” Your grandfather’s voice rose above the din of the common area, his normal booming voice all you can hear adverse to the polite chatter of others in the general vicinity. A few heads turned to look at him, but his beaming face is enough to have them turning back to their own conversations without a second thought.

“Hey, funny running into you here.” Kuroo patted the seat cushion closest to him on the couch when you arrived, and you gave him a quick nod as thanks. “I was just telling him about the time a friend of mine tried to convince me to sell him a stock in the volleyball association just because he wanted to say he owned volleyball in Japan.”

“It sounds like you’ve got interesting friends,” your murmured, eyes scaling across the slants of his face and down the slope of his nose—you were trying your best to avoid looking at his hair and be seen as rude, “was it one of the ones that was here the last time you were here?”

He shook his head, and it was almost instinct the way your eyes drew to his hair, which seemed to be moving on a mind of its own. You’re pretty sure your grandpa was laughing at the way you were watching, but you weren’t one hundred percent sure. “Nah, those guys are actually sane, it’s a friend named Kenma. He’s a year younger than me, but he’s made a pretty good name for himself.”

Conversation between the three of you flowed easily, since if Kuroo ran out of things to say, your grandfather would find an anecdote to throw around that would cause Kuroo to think of something his own grandparents would try and tell him, before it would end up a battle of philosophies from two different families. Kuroo often lost those discussions, however, because you were Yasufumi’s kin and there wasn’t a battle you wouldn’t fight for him.

The day seemed to pass in almost slow motion, each conversation longer and filled with laughter. There was something about the fact that Kuroo could handle your grandfather so well that sat well with you, and it helped that Yasufumi had already liked Kuroo to begin with that made you unreasonably happy.

You thought, somewhat briefly at one point when your grandfather is laughing at a dumb joke that Kuroo made about the state of taxes in Japan, that you wouldn’t mind seeing more of this man.

“I really enjoyed seeing you,” Kuroo divulged to you later on when your grandfather had had his fill of interacting with people for the day, “and Coach Nekomata, of course.”

The way he added on the second part of the conversation made heat crawl across your face, and the meaning of his words seemed to dawn on Kuroo, as well, if the deep pink flush that creeped along the tips of his ears and at the sides of his neck are any indication. There was a deep satisfaction of making a grown man blush so hard that settled along you, and it made you more confident than you normally were.

“Well, I think that seeing you there was a nice surprise,” you commented, looking at him with what you hoped was a sincere expression painted on your features, “and I definitely won’t mind if it were to happen more often.”

That was the right thing to say, you decided as you watched a bright beam spread across Kuroo’s lips, the corners of his eyes crinkling at the statement. “Of course, I’ll make sure to stop by more frequently. Maybe I could get your number, so we can coordinate our visits?”

You pulled out your phone to exchange numbers with him, and as he entered his number into your phone, and subsequently called himself from your phone, you just took a minute to admire him.

You’ve only met him a few times, but from what you could tell, he wasn’t a bad guy. Sure his hair was a bit on the obscure side, but you had dated far worse guys than that. He seemed to be a family oriented man, if his relationship with his grandparents and older sisters were any indication from the stories he told you and your own grandfather. He worked as a representative of the Japanese Volleyball Association, so that meant he had put in the work to get where he was and had an eye for things that others might have overlooked.

You saw yourself falling for him very easily, and watching his retreating figure wave to you as he walked to his car, you realized that maybe you already were.

Nekomata Yasufumi passed away on a cool Tuesday evening in the middle of summer.

From what the nurses had told you, he had passed painlessly in his sleep, without so much as a warning that his health was declining to this point. You were just grateful that it wasn’t long, because the thought of him suffering was worse than any hardship you had faced thus far in life.

Your friends had called you and texted you, asking you were okay and if there was anything they could do for you, and yet, there wasn’t a thing that their words said to you that could soothe the ache in your heart. Yasufumi was the only person in your life that had been there steadily, and now that he’s gone, you were a bit lost in where you were meant to go next.

The only person that you had even allowed by your side throughout the entire process of the funeral was Kuroo.

After the day you had exchanged numbers, the two of you texted often—about your grandfather, about his grandparents, and sometimes just about whatever he had seen that had reminded him of you. You weren’t anything more than friends, but you liked to think that Kuroo was just taking it slow, trying to court you like you were something to be valued, rather than doing it in a more modern way.

When he heard that Yasufumi had passed away, he had been a bit distraught at the news. In what would usually be near nightly texts, you had gotten radio silence for a good few days.

You understood, though, because this was another father figure to him, and you didn’t hold his silent treatment against him. When he texted you a few days before the funeral, asking if he could drive you there and stand with you, you agreed almost immediately.

“Nekomata Yasufumi was one of the most carefree men I had ever had the pleasure of meeting,” he read from a paper in his hands, shaking slightly at the top because of the wind, and perhaps a bit because of the shake in his hands, “and he brought joy wherever he went. Working with him, and working as one of his athletes had been one of the most amazing moments in my life. I wouldn’t have traded that experience for anything in the world.”

There were a few more people that shared their stories of your grandfather before they buried his casket, each one tearfilled and sentimental in their own rights. There was a deep pain in your chest that dulls a bit more with each joyful memory that others had of the only man in your life for so long.

Kuroo stood by your side throughout the entire process, an arm wrapped around you protectively, and you could feel the warmth of his hand on your upper bicep. When you felt as if the whole situation was too much, and that the tears that you had been shedding throughout the week would make an appearance in front of all these people, you just looked at Kuroo. He offered you a gentle smile each time, a sea of emotions swimming hazel eyes that you understood more than anyone.

After the ceremony, no one faulted you for leaving early.

“I’m sorry.”

Blinking at him, you tilted your head to the side as you wiped at your salt-stained cheeks. “Why? He passed painlessly, and I think he’d be having fun wherever he ended up.”

“I know,” Kuroo amended, chin tilted down towards his chest so you can’t see his expression, “but I’m just sorry that he was the last of your family.”

You made a noise, a bit of a hum and just a noise to let him know that you had heard him. You thought about it for a minute, hands pressed firmly in flat fists, fingers digging crescents into your palms to avoid crying again at the mention of it. You didn’t want to be sad, because you liked to think that your grandfather was somewhere playing volleyball with the coach of Karasuno again, as they should be.

“I think that, I think that I’m going to miss him,” you had started, drawing Kuroo’s attention to you, “but also, I know that I’ll never be alone, because he’s always with me.”

Kuroo chuckled a bit at that. “Yeah, definitely. He cared for you a lot, that’s for sure.”

When the man at your side rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, you inquired softly about what was on his mind. He sighed lightly, leaning a shoulder against the wall the two of you were standing by.

“He had even given me advice on how to ask you out,” he looked away from you, but still you could see the bits of red spreading across the tops of his ears, “and he kept telling me I was waiting too long to ask you out, and that you would get snatched up before I could get a chance. But I just wanted to do it a bit slower.”

“I get it,” you smiled up at him, “but if you asked me out now, I’d say yes.”

“Oh.” Kuroo’s face erupted in a gorgeous shade of rosy pink. “Well, I was going to wait. I thought it might be inappropriate to ask you at Nekomata’s funeral.”

“Mm, well,” you mused, hand reaching towards his, “I get the feeling, he’d just be happy we got together at all.”

Kuroo met you halfway, his hand enveloping yours in a firm grasp. Despite the hole in your life that was oddly Nekomata Yasufumi sized, you thought that maybe there’d be someone who could patch over the wounds that were developing.

“Do you want some time alone?” You looked up at Kuroo with a blink, hand curled in his warmth. “I don’t mind, I can go sit in the car for a bit.”

He shook his head. “No, I don’t really have anything to say to him that I can’t say in front of you.”

He leaned down, knee pressing against soft soil with a hand tracing along the stone of a gravestone, Nekomata Yasufumi written in elegant script with the year he was born and the year he passed on it.

“Hey, Coach,” he started, thumb brushing against the granite in smooth, slow strokes, “we just wanted to let you know about how life has been going.”

You crouched down, the side of your thigh pressed against the denim of his jeans. “Gramps, we, uh, we visited Mori and Lev in Russia for a couple of days, which was really lovely.”

The elder of the two was seemingly more successful, despite the modeling career Lev had gotten with his sister. He was doing what he loved in a foreign country, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been a bit impressed when he had ordered for you and Kuroo at a restaurant in fluent Russian.

Lev was in the process of learning his third language, English, and had tried to show off in front of the two of you. Morisuke had laughed at him mercilessly, and corrected him in anything that he had gotten wrong, showing off another hidden talent the former libero had kept tucked away.

“The best part of the trip, though,” Kuroo knocked the side of his head against yours gently, in what was nothing more than a love tap, “was putting a ring on their finger.”

He pulled over the hands that were intertwined with yours, tugging the fingers down to show off the golden band adorning your ring finger that rested snugly. After showing it off, the sunlight reflecting off of it in straight lines, Kuroo ghosted his lips over the engagement band he had presented to you.

“We’re gonna keep a seat open for you,” you murmured, reaching out to trace your hand along the engravings of your grandfather’s name, “and I know you’re gonna watch us with a stupid story about Tetsuro that’ll have everyone laughing wherever you ended up.”

Kuroo pulled you closer with an arm winding around your shoulders, lips resting against the crown of your head as you pressed a palm against your chest. Despite the fact that the loss of your grandfather had opened a cavity in your chest, with each passing day the ache seemed to dull just a bit more. You didn’t think it would ever go away fully, but just carrying it with you would mean that it would become bearable.

Kuroo stood without another word, hand resting on your head and shaking a bit to mess up your hair. Before you had come in, you had already agreed that you would get a few minutes alone with your grandfather, and you appreciated the fact that Kuroo understood.

It was early in the morning. The morning dew was clinging to the green blades that curved and bent underneath every step that your fiancé took, each one a soothing contrast to the sun that was peeking up over the Japanese horizon. As the clouds floated through the sky, you sat and talked with your grandfather of all the things that he had missed in the last few months that you had been unable to visit him—your lover, and his former protégé, waiting for you in your car.

t.list :: @nekomabvc @shadowkunoichi @duhsies @iwaizoom @hikariakaashi @kyotarou

#hqcorenet #hanimehub #kuroo tetsuro #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsuro x you #kuroo tetsuro x y/n #kuroo tetsurou x y/n #kuroo tetsurou x you #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo tetsuro fluff #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo x reader #kuroo x y/n #kuroo x you #haikyuu!! kuroo #grind for the wealth

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leejungchans · 3 years

Text

— the road ahead.

juliet’s masterlist | 👀 ask juliet anything!!

word count: 1.4k

set in late january, 2018 and before juliet was invited to join ateez’s lineup

summary: after the end of mixnine, ryujin and juliet discuss their future plans.

a/n: oof this is kinda angsty but it ends on a positive note i promise 😭😭 please leave feedback and chat with me :3 💕

“What a wild ride, huh?” Juliet laughs sadly, taking a sip of her soda. The fizzy beverage really isn’t helping. As it travels down her throat, she feels as though it’s freezing every part inside her, filling her with a sense of numbness and deepening the pit of dread in her stomach.

Or maybe it’s just the weather. She loves winter, but something about the biting cold when she’s already in a bad headspace sends her further down that downwards spiral.

Juliet curses herself for her choice of beverage, and again for not finishing it so she wouldn’t still be holding onto it as the two girls walk out the warm restaurant and out into the streets.

“Yeah,” Ryujin agrees quietly. Their dinner was full of exchanged bittersweet smiles and unspoken words, though neither girl dared bring up the elephant in the room until they finished eating. It being the disappointment from losing on MIXNINE. Of course, they both knew they gave it their all, and ultimately there could only be one winner, so there really are no hard feelings towards anyone.

It just never feels good to lose out on such a chance; to be so, so close to reaching your dream only to fail at the last second.

She remembers the staff at KQ congratulating her for making it that far into the competition, and she could tell that they were pleased how she managed to garner so much positive attention for both herself and the company from the show, however unexpected it was. She also remembers how excited the boys were for her when she made it into the girls’ team for the final competition, happy at the prospect of their friend debuting.

Perhaps this is why losing hurts even more, because she didn’t only let herself down, but also the people who believed in her.

It’s been a while since Juliet’s felt this way. The first was when she left SM. While knowing the decision was necessary for her mental health, another part of her blamed herself for being unable to endure it and giving up on a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity when so many others would kill to be in her place. The second time being when she was approached by the KQ scout, not knowing whether it was all worth a second chance but also not wanting to go home to her family in Sydney having accomplished nothing.

Why has she not gotten better at dealing with these emotions? Shouldn’t she have developed a thicker skin? Why doesn’t it hurt less?

And to think that she thought she really had a chance after performing so consistently in MIXNINE. Had it all been wishful thinking?

For Juliet, desperation always led to naivety. It seems like this was no exception.

“What are you thinking about?” Ryujin asks gently, pulling her scarf up to cover her face more as a gust of icy wind hits them.

“Just what I should do now... I guess.”

“Did your company discuss any plans with you?”

“No,” Juliet sighs, her breath condensing into a small puff of white fog. “There aren’t any other female trainees yet, so either they’ll start recruiting some to form a girl group for later, or... I don’t know...”

Ryujin hesitates before choosing her next words carefully. “What about your friends? The boys in your company?”

“The company is planning to debut them late this year. I think they’ll also be heading to LA soon to train further. They’ll be great, I just know it.” A small smile tugs at Juliet’s lips at the mention of the boys, because no matter how terrible and lost she feels about her future in the industry, she is unquestionably happy for the boys for being one step closer to their dream.

Still, there’s a pang in her heart from the thought of not being able to see the boys as often now that they weren’t going to train as regular trainees, but as to-be idols. She wonders how she’ll be able to handle training alone once they leave for LA.

It hurts to think about it—being in their practice room without hearing Wooyoung’s signature laugh, or Seonghwa nagging everyone to stay hydrated, or Hongjoong’s pleading voice urging everyone to sober up when things get just a little too chaotic.

And what about eating lunch without sharing laughs over Yunho and Mingi’s jokes and retellings of funny incidents that happened to them? Or not getting to beat Jongho at arm wrestling even though it’s only because he let her win? Will she also start looking at fried chicken differently because she won’t have Yeosang and San to share it with?

So many questions, not enough answers. Juliet’s chest constricts, so she shakes her head to rid herself of those thoughts before she starts breaking down in the middle of the busy Seoul streets. She’ll deal with them later, she supposes. “Enough about me,” she chuckles weakly. “What about you?”

“JYP is debuting me next year with a few other girls,” Ryujin admits after a few beats of silence. “They said I have to start preparing for it next week.”

Juliet grins. “That’s amazing!” Her smile drops immediately when she notices Ryujin’s frown. “But why do you sound so sad about it?”

The shorter girl pouts. “I don’t know... I guess it just feels... wrong bringing that up at this time. It feels like I’m rubbing salt into the wound.”

This time, Juliet lets out a genuine laugh as she clasps her hands over one of Ryujin’s. “Silly, I’m happy for you more than anything! Don’t think like that!”

“I wish you were in JYP, they’d definitely put you in my team, and we could’ve debuted together.”

“That would be fun,” Juliet admits wistfully, “but it’s not the end for me. At least, I hope not.” She doesn’t know if she’s trying to convince Ryujin or herself. Maybe both. “My contract is not up yet, so at least I’ll be in Seoul until the end of this year, and we can keep meeting up until then!”

“You’re planning to leave after that?” Ryujin asks with widened eyes. This is the first time she’s heard Juliet mention leaving Seoul. “Where to? Home in Sydney?”

Juliet shrugs. “Yeah, but nothing’s set in stone yet. For now I’ll just keep training, see if the company has any plans for me in the next few years. If not... I’ll probably go home and continue with my studies.”

The thought of returning to Australia empty-handed makes her stomach twist. How can she look her family in the eye after that when they’ve been nothing but supportive of her dream? The least she could do is repay them with some form of success, but her future seems so murky that it doesn’t seem possible, and she wonders if it’s really that bad going back to Sydney. At least she’d be home.

“They better have plans for you,” Ryujin says fiercely, snapping Juliet out of her daze. “I don’t want to lose you so soon!”

With the help of the warm glow from the street lamps, Juliet catches sight of her friend’s glossy eyes.

“Ryujin... are you crying?” Alarmed, Juliet stops immediately rummage through her bag for tissues, letting out a small aha! when she hears the crinkle of the plastic packaging underneath her fingertips. Ryujin lets her gently dab away the tears trailing down her cheeks.

They may have only known each other for a few months, but they’ve been through so much together that Juliet considers Ryujin one of her closest friends now. “Don’t cry, Jinnie,” she soothes. Both of them don’t comment on how her voice cracked at the end of the sentence. “It’ll be okay, we’ll always be friends even if I go h—oh no, I’m gonna start crying too.”

This makes Ryujin giggle, and she takes the opportunity to take several deep breaths. “It’s just... I’m really happy we got to be friends. I’ve seen so many of my friends come and go because of how this industry is... and it doesn’t hurt any less each time. I think I’ll actually be crushed if I stop hearing from you too...”

“I’ll never stop bothering you, so don’t worry about that,” Juliet says brightly in effort to cheer her up, though she herself is rapidly blinking back hot tears. “I promise I won’t give up so soon.”

“Swear on it.”

Juliet puts up three fingers, albeit a little clumsily due to her thick gloves. “I solemnly swear that I will not give up on debuting.”

Ryujin raises a brow. “And?”

“And I also solemnly swear to never stop being friends with Shin Ryujin.”

She nods approvingly. “Good. Seriously though, your company is blind if they don’t have anything planned for you. You’ll be huge someday, I know it.”

Juliet links their arm together as they continue walking, their conversation restoring a sliver of hope in her.

“We both will. Count on it.”

a/n: ngl writing that part about juliet and the boys made my heart hurt aHa 💔💔 i think this update gives even more insight into ryuliet’s friendship!! being on mixnine was very mentally taxing on juliet, and ever since meeting ryujin they’ve been each other’s rocks throughout the competition ;-; now look at them both being 4th gen it girls ✨🥺

let me know what you think!! 🥺🥺 i really do love interacting with you guys!! thank you for reading and take care 💕

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secretkeeper13 · 3 years

Text

Declaration

I started this little ficlet about the first time Harry and Ginny say “I love you” to each other last month. It sat around unfinished in my phone until last night, when I woke up at 2am and couldn’t fall back to sleep. The end is a complete product of my sleep deprived brain ;) I hope it brightens someone’s Monday. Some slightly NSFW moments below the break, but nothing explicit.

Also on AO3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27591689

He lay awake in bed, his mind racing as thoughts of death and destruction began to consume him. At once, the silence of the night was punctuated by the sound of squeaking door hinges, followed by creaking stairs. The room was nearly pitch black, save for a patch of moonlight shining through the window shade.

Instinctively, he grabbed his wand and his glasses from the bedside table. It had been only two weeks since the war ended, and he was still on edge. It didn’t help that sleep had been difficult to come by. The faces of the dead seemed to float in front of him every time he closed his eyes, and when he finally fell asleep, it was fitful, and too often interrupted by nightmares.

A shadowy figure stepped through the doorway. The cool blue glow of wand light illuminated her face. He breathed a sigh of relief and released his wand.

Ginny crouched by Ron’s side, and gently shook his shoulder. “Ron,” she whispered.

Ron’s tall frame sat bolt upright in bed. He was already holding his wand. Harry wondered if he’d fallen asleep with it in his hand, like he did when they were in the tent.

“Ginny,” Ron said, looking down at her and lowering his arm. “What’s wrong?”

Ginny’s brow was furrowed and her face was etched with concern.

“It’s Hermione.” Ginny spoke in a hushed tone. “She had a nightmare, and she’s asking for you.”

“Shit,” Ron swore, and he stood up, grabbing his discarded t-shirt and throwing it on over his pajama bottoms.

“She’s really upset,” Ginny said, the worry in her voice apparent. Harry’s stomach twisted at her words. “I tried to calm her down, but she wants you.”

Ron swore again as he hurried out the door. It was a testament to Ron’s concern, and of all that had happened in the past year, that he didn’t make a joke or comment about leaving them alone together in his bedroom, Harry thought.

Ginny sighed as she moved to sit on the edge of the camp bed. Harry could tell she was shaken. He took her hand in his. He’d tried to be there for her, even in the chaos of the last two weeks.

“How bad was it?” Harry asked quietly.

“Awful,” said Ginny, in a whisper. “She was nearly hysterical when I was able to wake her. I tried to calm her down, but she just kept saying she wanted Ron. I didn’t want to ask her what it was about and upset her more.”

Harry’s stomach twisted with guilt as he thought of the horrible things Hermione had faced in the past year, all because she was helping him.

“I think it’s getting worse because they’ll be leaving in a few days. She’s really worried about finding her parents and reversing the charm,” Ginny continued, her tone still hushed.

The weight of the guilt in Harry’s stomach increased. He ran his hand that wasn’t holding Ginny’s through his hair as he sighed. “I told her I’d go with them. I don’t feel right not helping her after all she’s done for me this year. But she won’t let me. She says there’s too much that needs to be done here.”

As Harry’s eyes began to adjust to the darkness, he could see the ghost of a smile cross Ginny’s face. “That’s true... but I think she wants to have some time alone with Ron too. Which I do not want to think about,” Ginny shuddered.

Harry chuckled. Ginny looked down at him and smiled. She always knew, instinctively, how to make him feel better.

He stroked his thumb across her hand, and he realized that she felt cooler than usual.

“Come here,” he said, shifting over in the camp bed and pulling back the quilt to make room for her, “You’re cold.”

She brought her legs up onto the bed and snuggled under the quilt next to him. He lay on his back, with one arm underneath her as she turned towards him and nestled into his side, her head resting on his shoulder, her palm pressed flat against his chest, her leg resting atop his. He wrapped his other arm across her.

Suddenly, it struck him that this was the first time they’d ever laid in a bed together. Of course, they’d only ever been alone in a bedroom together once, on his birthday last year, and Ron had interrupted them. Their position was familiar- they’d laid together like this many times by the lake, and even once on a sofa in the common room after everyone else had gone to bed. But there was something so much more intimate about laying with her in a bed, the two of them alone in the still and quiet darkness.

His heart began to race. He’d imagined he and Ginny in bed together too many times to count over the past nearly two years. The images from his many dreams began to flit across his mind, and he felt his cock stir. But he felt ashamed. That can’t happen now, he told himself sternly. Fred had just died. Everything was still fucked up, despite the war being over. And he couldn’t shake the feeling that lives could’ve been saved if he had done things differently.

“What are you thinking about,” Ginny said, her soft voice breaking the stillness.

“I just wish...” Harry broke off. He couldn’t put into words how he felt. The “what if’s” had tormented him since the end of the battle. He couldn’t stop his mind from replaying the past year, and thinking of how things could have been different, how Fred, Lupin, Tonks, and the others could’ve all been alive if only he’d figured things out sooner. It didn’t help that he’d had to keep retelling what happened that year- first to Ginny, then to the rest of the Weasleys, and to Kingsley, not to mention the whitewashed version for the public. Each time he recounted what happened, he saw the chances he missed to end it sooner.

The opportunities were there. The diadem haunted him. He’d held it in his fucking hands. He was so busy trying to hide that stupid book that he hadn’t even noticed what was right in front of him. He should have realized. He’d known about the Horcruxes by then. But he’d missed it, in his self-absorption. And for what? A better Potions grade?

Ginny moved her hand from his chest to his bicep and lightly stroked it, snapping him out of his spiraling thoughts. Even in the darkness, he could feel her piercing look.

“Harry, you can’t blame yourself for any of this. He wouldn’t be gone if not for you. Many more people would be dead. You hardly had anything to go on, but you managed to do it.”

As usual, she knew what he was thinking, and she knew exactly what to say. Her words unknotted the twisting in his stomach, lessened the weight on his chest. He felt that familiar, tender ache inside that he got whenever he thought of Ginny. He’d felt it when he’d stare at her dot on the Map. He’d felt it when they’d kissed after the battle. And now, as he lay with her, holding her.

He realized that he hadn’t even asked her how she was. He pulled her closer to him and gently stroked her back, his fingers slipping across her long, lovely hair.

“What about you,” he asked softly, “How are you feeling?”

She sighed, and he held her tighter. “It’s still... surreal,” she whispered. “I don’t think any of us are ok right now.” She looked up at Harry. “But we will be in time. And we’ve got time now.”

They did have time. That was perhaps the strangest thing of all to him. Since Voldemort’s return, his life had felt like an egg timer winding down, and after Dumbledore died, it felt like it was down to the last minutes. He’d known Voldemort would be at the end, and his own death seemed inevitable and ever approaching. Now, his future stretched wide and unencumbered in front of him. The possibilities for what the rest of his life could be were seemingly endless. As someone who never had a choice before, it was overwhelming. But, with absolute certainty, the one thing that he knew that he wanted in his future was her.

He stroked the side of her face, down her jaw line to her chin, and kissed her softly. He pulled away before he could deepen the kiss, not trusting himself, knowing how easy it would be to get carried away, and there were things he needed to say to her.

“I wasn’t sure sure of anything this past year,” he began, his voice low. “I didn’t know how to do what Dumbledore tasked me with. I didn’t have a clue at times what he really wanted. Or whether I’d ever be able to accomplish it. I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again.”

He felt her stiffen against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her tighter as he continued. “The only thing I was certain of was... that if I somehow made it through, I wanted to be with you.”

She leaned up and kissed him. He felt a swell of emotion as she deepened the kiss, and he held her tightly as her small body pressed into his. Her hands slid into his hair as he stroked her side. His mind went blank as the only thing he could focus on was Ginny, and the feel of her lips on his.

“I love you,” she breathed as she broke away. For a moment, he was stunned. He couldn’t remember anyone ever saying those words to him before. Then, a feeling of elation swelled inside him.

“I love you.” The words tumbled easily, unbidden, from his lips, despite that he’d never said them to anyone before, because he did. He loved her. And he knew that he always would.

He stared at her for a second. Her eyes were shining in the semi-darkness. He cupped her face and brought his lips back to hers. All of the thoughts that had plagued him since the end of the war were gone, wiped away, and replaced by Ginny. He felt joy coursing through him, a feeling he hadn't felt in so long. She loved him.

His body seemed to move on its own accord as his fingers twined in her hair. He deepened the kiss, and as her tongue brushed against his, they both moaned. In an instant, he was hard. They’d kissed since the war ended, of course, but nothing like this since that kiss they’d shared on his birthday last year.

His hand left her hair and traveled down to her waist, and moved underneath the hem of her oversized t-shirt. She let out a small gasp as he stroked the smooth skin of her back. He rolled her gently on top of him, and he shuddered as she pressed against him and rolled her hips.

It was as if they were back by the lake at Hogwarts. Ginny kissed down his neck, hot, open mouthed kisses that sent electricity coursing down his spine. She sucked on his pulse point, and he let out a ragged groan. How could he have forgotten how good this felt?

His hand slid under the front of her shirt and reached the swell of her breast. He cupped it gently, and as his thumb caressed across, she made that breathy “oh,” that had haunted his dreams for the past year.

Suddenly, he heard the unmistakable creak of heavy feet on the stairs. Ginny’s head dropped to his shoulder at the sound. They froze. It took every bit of self control that he had to pull his hand away from her chest.

“Fuck,” he groaned.

“Not tonight,” she said, smirking, as she rolled off him and sat back up, her hand lightly caressing down his arm and leaving a trail of goosebumps. “Ron’s timing is shit. Twice in a row he’s interrupted that, actually.”

Harry stared at her, his mouth agape, as the meaning of her words clicked into place. His brain was clouded with a mixture of arousal and elation. Twice? Did she really mean....

“Wait,” he said slowly, “Do you mean that on my birthday last year, you wanted to….”

The door flung open, and Ron, bleary eyed and illuminated by his wand, entered. Harry had never been less pleased to see him.

“How’s Hermione?” Ginny asked, “And nice of you to knock, by the way,” she added sarcastically.

“Better. She’s asleep now,” Ron said. “And why the hell would I knock? It’s my room.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Well you see Ron,” she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “It’s common courtesy when you know a couple is in a bedroom together to knock before entering. Something that you should learn, you prat.”

Ron snorted, “Stop being dramatic. It isn’t like you were doing anything. And if you’re referring to last year, you weren’t technically a couple at the time, which was the reason for it in the first place,” he retorted.

Ginny glared at Ron and shot him the two finger salute. Harry, not for the first time, was struck by his best mate’s inability to read the room.

Harry, sensing Ginny’s anger, and eager to prevent a sibling row in which what they were actually doing before Ron interrupted was revealed, took her hand in his and stroked it with his thumb.

At his touch, Ginny sighed. “I should go back down. Mum will have kittens if she finds me out of bed.”

She leaned down and kissed Harry, and she let the kiss linger much longer than a typical peck, despite Ron’s noise of disgust from across the room.

Her lips grazed his ear as they broke apart. “I love you,” she murmured, quietly, so that only he could hear her.

Harry beamed at her, and he pulled her back down to him and kissed her again, ignoring Ron’s “ugh.”

“I love you too,” he breathed into her ear as they pulled apart.

Ron’s voice sounded from across the room, “I hope you’re done,” he said, “because I really don’t want to watch this.” He made a vague gesture between the two of them.

“Oh, we’re far from done,” Ginny said sweetly, “But you’re killing the mood, so we’ll reconvene without you later.”

Ron snorted.

Ginny stood and walked to the door. “Goodnight,” she said. “Oh and Harry,” she added, turning around as she reached the door. “About your birthday, the answer is yes. Definitely.”

Ginny winked at him, flipped her hair over her shoulder, opened the door, and was gone, leaving Harry stunned (not to mention incredibly turned on) in her wake.

“What about your birthday, mate?” Ron asked.

“Oh, erm, nothing,” Harry said hastily, trying desperately to think of anything aside from the fact that Ginny wanted to have sex with him, and had since last year. “We were just discussing, um, plans.”

“Yeah, I reckon we should have a big party for you this year, since last year’s was shit owing to Voldemort and all,” Ron mused.

“Er, yeah,” said Harry, trying to keep his lips from twitching, “Voldemort ruined my birthday last year for sure.”

“Well, it’ll be better this year.”

“Definitely,” Harry said, thinking only about Ginny.

“Night mate,” said Ron as he laid down in bed.

“Night Ron,” Harry replied, exhaling a deep breath.

The sound of Ron’s snores soon filled the room. Harry still couldn’t sleep, but this time, it was for an entirely different (and far more pleasant reason) than usual.

#hinny #first time harry and ginny say I love you #hinny fanfic #hinny fluff #Harry realizes Ginny wants to have sex with him

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secret-engima · 4 years

Note

For the Night King AU, could we possibly see the thoughts of the Chocobros 1.0 when they meet/see their counterparts? We kinda got a vauge look at Regis' thoughts and a tiny glimpse of Clarus', but what do they think when they look at the Dark Retinue and see what could have been them? And does Clarus' realize that Iris is an Amiticia as well?

Hmmmmm lemme think. Not sure if this is gonna be what you want but- ramble? Not gonna do them all because my hands hurt but the ramble should be long enough to suit.

-Clarus sees the man with Amicitia gold eyes and brown hair stop Cor’s attack on the Accursed and his heart stops for several reasons. One- he fully expects Cor and the rest of them to die in the next there seconds by angry daemon, two- someone was actually fast enough to STOP Cor, in an instant, like it was easy and that’s never happened before, and three-

-That man looks like Clarus’s father. That man looks like CLARUS and it’s freaking him out. He wonders hysterically if the Accursed was using an illusion to make his guard look like an Amicitia as a joke, or if Clarus’s father had a brother that was presumed dead but was actually taken and molded into a servant by the Night King.

-Instead of turning violent though, the man just laughs a deep, quiet laugh and lets Cid and Weskham drag the breathless Cor back into their group, “Nice try kid, but you’re about three decades too early to pull that off.”

-Regis apologizes for Cor with a desperate edge that means he too fears reprisal, but the Night King just shrugs it off and summons another human (human!) to escort them to the dining room.

-The newcomer, named Prompto, mentions a “Gladio” a few times as they walk and Clarus wonders if that’s the Amicitia he saw.

-They learn ... quite a few things that night and the days following after, and when he’s not fretting over the others, Clarus is, admittedly, studying Gladiolus. Since learning that this Accursed is new, he’s been trying to figure out how far back in the family tree Gladiolus is. He acts like he’s known the Night King all his life, and there’s a brief mention of a childhood incident, which means the man is definitely not Clarus’s father’s brother.

-Honestly, Clarus can readily believe this Amicitia is ancient. Not in appearance, he only looks to be in his early thirties at most, but in soul? Oh yes.

-Gladiolus is old in a worn, battle-hardened sort of way that reminds Clarus of his few recollections of his grandfather. He’s friendly, not the violent, brutish thing Clarus expected of an Accursed’s Shield, but instead gentle. Tired. His temper rises fast as fire and snuffs as quickly as a candle, he answers questions patiently, and seems to keep his king on just as tight a leash as any other Shield (food and sleep seem to be the realm of Ignis’s care, but in other matters, Gladiolus keeps his king anchored, just as is tradition).

-Clarus wants to ask questions, desperately. He wants to ask how old Gladiolus is, where in the family tree he is, HOW he came to be the Shield of the Accursed’s Nephew but ... he doesn’t. He doesn’t dare. There is something dark lurking in Gladiolus’s gaze when they speak, something bleeding still, and Clarus does not want to further open a heart wound that is clearly still weeping.

-It doesn’t stop him from wondering, especially as the years go by and he lives in the Night Kingdom with Regis prior to Regis ascending Lucis’s throne, why a man as steady and unflinching as Gladiolus is nonexistent in the history records. In the family tree. Clarus has CHECKED. There is no sign of him even as far back as Gilgamesh.

-Clarus isn’t sure which is better, that Gladiolus was erased that thoroughly for whatever happened back then, or that no one in the family knew that he (or his SISTER and isn’t that a shock, one that takes much longer to realize since Iris is usually busy elsewhere in the Citadel and rarely sees Clarus) existed.

...

-Weskham doesn’t take long to decide he likes Ignis. There is a steadiness and experience to the blind man, and even though Ignis is very unnerving at times (the way he commands daemons, the way he effortlessly navigates and fights despite being blind), it is gratifying to have another who understands Weskham’s trials as a Hand of the King.

-After the treaty, after they have been kidnapped in all but name and intent (for Regis chose this, Regis agreed to this to spare his father and his kingdom), Ignis and Weskham take to spending afternoons in the kitchens together. Just the two of them, some new dish cooking in the ovens, and a cup of tea as they talk.

-Weskham enjoys their time, but he would also be the first to admit that Ignis is ... a little off sometimes. There is a jagged edge to him that will not smooth, it glitters in his words sometimes, in the fervent desperation that edges his shoulders when he spends too long apart from his King. There is a ... neediness there. A doubt. Like if he turns away for too long, Noctis will disappear into dust on the wind. All of the Dark Retinue (a silly nickname that Prompto insisted on using after hearing it) have that edge, but in Ignis it is the sharpest.

-“The last thing I ever saw,” Ignis tells him once, very quietly, on a rainy day where the tea has been spiked just slightly with wine, “was Noct. He was lying on the ground in the rain next to Luna, and he was ... he wasn’t moving. There was no sign-. I couldn’t see him breathing, and Ardyn was right there. I feared-.” Ignis goes silent and Weskham holds his breath despite himself. He still does not know how Luna was, she is someone they only mention in passing and in deep grief, but he knows enough about Noctis and his ... relationship with his now passed Uncle to feel a thrill of fear just at the retelling, “He was dead.” Ignis’s voice breaks just a little and Weskham feels his heart bleed for the older man, “I thought I had lost him. I swore to stay ever at his side. All his life I walked with him, since he was just a small child, and then I saw him, and he was so very still.”

-Ignis exhales, “I wonder sometimes, what he looks like now. I do not regret losing my sight, but sometimes I wish I could see him. Just once more. Just so that that is not the last moment.”

-Weskham tentatively touches Ignis’s hand in solidarity, and internally he shakes. Because he too was raised with his king from a young age. To have the sight of him almost dead on the ground be the last he ever saw of Regis, even if Regis survived... Weskham can’t imagine it.

-He doesn’t want to.

...

-Cid knows Iris is an Amicitia. He’s not BLIND and unlike Clarus he sees the girl a lot more often, since she and Talcott like to come sniffing around the workshop Noctis gave him.

-He’s more than a little sure the girl avoids Clarus when she can, because seeing him cuts up her insides even though she likes him.

-But she and Talcott don’t bother him, or get in his way, so he lets them visit. Sometimes they chat, either to him or over his head, and he learns a lot about their past from those cues.

-He learns Clarus looks like Iris’s and Gladiolus’s father. That Talcott’s family used to be retainers for Iris and Gladiolus’s. He learns that Iris can scrap with the best of them, but honestly prefers staying here and helping people with mending and fixing, because she’s seen too many things get broken in her life that can’t be fixed. Talcott is a busybody, but all his secrets he hoards to himself. He gathers gossip but never spreads it, and he likes learning things because when he was a boy, knowing things was the only way he could help. And even now that he’s grown, knowing things is his strongest weapon.

-Cid can sympathize. He didn’t grow up as one of Regis’s Retinue, and he doesn’t know a lot of courtly things or how magic works beyond the basics Regis taught him. But he does know the wilds, and the villages, and the common folk, and those were things Regis desperately needed to learn back in the day. He knows how to fight, but he prefers to fix because frankly there’s enough people going around breaking things and not enough fixing. Just look at how well Mors messed up Cor.

-Cid carefully doesn’t think about what it must have been like back when Iris and Talcott were small. How they had to help, had to KNOW things when they were only kids (or the nearest immortal equivalent). Cid was an adult when he met Regis, not a kid. He could shoulder that just fine. Them...

-Well. They’re adults now, and they seem happy enough, so Cid will let it go at that.

...

-Cor doesn’t like Older Cor.

-Oh he likes to FIGHT him, and he respects him a lot, but he doesn’t ... like him.

-Old Cor is too much like Cor, and so when Cor sees the ways Old Cor is broken, it means Cor could break in those ways too.

-But Cor is stubborn and curious, so he badgers Old Cor anyway, for fighting, for clues, for ... anything really. And here are some things he learns.

-Old Cor doesn’t like to be around Regis and the others. Not that he doesn’t like them (he loves them, Cor can see it in his eyes, that fervent burning edge that Cor sees in the mirror every morning) but being near them HURTS and both Cor’s tend to fight the things that hurt, so Old Cor stays away.

-Old Cor is protective. He’s protective of his home, of his kingdom, of the humans living in the Night Kingdom. But most of all he’s protective of Noctis and his Retinue, and despite his old joints and scars, he will kill anything that threatens them without hesitation.

-Old Cor is impatient. He’s like Cor, he wants to get things done NOW, but he’s got a much better control over that urge than Cor currently does, so he seems like he’s patient when he’s really not.

-Old Cor lost his King.

-It’s a bad realization. A harsh one that comes after Cor sneaks into the Accursed’s tomb when he shouldn’t have. But it makes sense. Old Cor walks like he is still following in someone’s shadow, two steps back and one to the left, even when no one is around. Old Cor still sometimes looks over his shoulder like he’s about to call someone, then stops and keeps walking. Old Cor spends some evenings nursing a bottle of wine, but for every glass he drinks he pours out two more.

-”Was it Noctis’s father?” Cor asks Old Cor once.

-Old Cor ... LOOKS at Cor and there is a sharpness there that comes less from a honed blade and more from the broken shards of one, “Yes.” Then, before Cor could ask more, Old Cor says, rough and hoarse and fragile “The original Accursed killed him. I was sent away to protect Noctis.”

-I was sent away, he didn’t let me die at his side why didn’t he LET ME STAY WITH HIM- screams between them, maybe Cor’s heart, maybe Old Cor’s. It doesn’t matter, they are close enough in everything else for this reaction to be shared too.

-Cor doesn’t ask about it again.

-One days when Old Cor is too broken and rough, when he genuinely has no tolerance for even looking at Cor, Cor goes and bothers Prompto instead. The man is always willing to fight him, or tell him stories, or just laugh at something Cor did that shouldn’t be funny but is anyway. Cor knows he should probably hunt for clues on Prompto too, but he caught a glimpse of Prompto’s wrist once, the black tattoo that looks suspiciously like a Niflheim slave brand, and even Cor knows that THAT is a line of questions he shouldn’t breach.

...

-Regis has a lot of thoughts on Noctis. At first, it’s terror. Terror at what he thought was the original Accursed, terror for what would become of his Retinue and himself at this monster’s hands.

-Except Noctis is no monster, he is painfully, achingly human, and that perhaps is even worse.

-After that he is wary of Noctis, and refuses to let himself think the words “Lucis Caelum” because if he does THAT then he’s going to ask questions and Noctis doesn’t deserve questions.

-It comes about anyway. There’s no denying his looks, his blue eyes, his magic. And the thought of the OG Accursed being related to the Lucis Caelum line in any way makes Regis’s skin crawl, but Noctis is sweet and kind and patient, and Regis cannot help but love the man like family even before the day he works up the nerve to ask if Noctis is really a Lucis Caelum and gets a soft “yes” as his answer.

(gonna stop there sorry because my hands hurt rn and just hgdhgfds)

#SE asks #spideypoolalways asks #Secret Engima Rambles #Demon in the Dark verse #long post

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parisianprinceling · 3 years

Note

Vincent/MC, 20

You’re the only thing I know like the back of my hand.

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***French translations at the end because I used more French here than usual***

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He was frustrated.

No.

He was livid.

The board of directors weren’t compromising. They hadn’t been since he’d gotten out of prison, but the past week had been a living hell as he pitched idea after idea and they could do nothing else but provide snide remarks, quietly mocking him as they turned their heads to whisper with one another, their laughs giving away their petty conversation topic.

It drained him of every last ounce of patience he had in him.

He had known that he would be treated differently when he returned, but he hadn’t anticipated the absolute lack of respect from those that used to crawl over one another to receive his approval. The whispers he could deal with; the fleeting glances, the rushing off mid conversation, even the outright avoidance, he understood. But if there was one thing he couldn’t stand, it was being disregarded as a joke, having his dignity stripped from him like he was on a pedestal, being tested for their entertainment after years of keeping them under his own heel.

He was humiliated.

He couldn’t entirely blame them for their behavior. It was only natural for them to seek to demean the same man who once controlled their fates, but it made it entirely impossible to run the business properly, and that would have repercussions on everyone if they didn’t let up soon enough.

He had been reduced to working almost every hour of the day, trying as hard as he could to ensure that the business wouldn’t fail while the board and everyone else was having their fun with him. It wasn’t something he had worried about before, but lately he couldn’t bear the thought of having to cut workers, especially not in the atmosphere after the flood.

Much to the chagrin of the American currently cohabiting in his penthouse, this meant he spent long nights at the office, sleeping at his desk and receiving a change of suits from Eugene in the mornings, who he often sent home early when he was certain his work wouldn’t be completed until late.

He tried his best to come home, not wanting to abandon her on her own after they had barely found a way to be together in the first place, but he knew she understood how important this work was to him. How hard he had to work to get back on top.

Fortunately though, this was one of the days where he could come home early, even if just to spend a little time with her.

Or so he thought.

In reality, he got home an hour earlier than she usually returned, and while waiting for her, had managed to fall asleep rather uncomfortably on the couch, his long legs cramped into a position that would at least stop him from tumbling onto the floor.

When she arrived home an hour later, she laughed softly at the sight before turning to hang up her coat and bag by the door.

She made her way over to him on sock-padded feet, hoping that she wouldn’t wake him as she pulled the blanket off the back of the couch (an addition to the penthouse that she’d insisted on after one too many nights of her feet getting cold while reading on the couch) and gently draped it over his sleeping form, grateful he had already removed his waistcoat and jacket so that he wouldn’t be complaining about wrinkles when he woke up.

She leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead and was about to pull away until she noticed how his brow was furrowed in his sleep. She frowned and gently lowered herself onto her knees to level her face to his as she studied it, realizing that he was struggling with whatever dream he was currently having.

It wasn’t the first time she had seen these nightmares. Every few months, he’d wake in a sweat, mumbling profusely in French, apologizing for something, desperate to receive a response he’d never get again. It always took a few minutes to bring him back to reality from his state of fervor, and when she finally did, he would cling onto her like he had nothing else in the world, whispering in French, begging her to never leave, to never let them part over a few bad words and the bitter taste of alcohol. It broke her heart, but she knew it was part of the territory that came with loving him, so she always did her best to comfort him and to hold him in her arms as long as he needed her to, whispering soothing things back to him in French, knowing that sometimes, only his mother tongue would be any good at soothing him.

He didn’t seem to be in that state yet, but she could tell that as his slumber continued, his nightmare was only getting worse as his furrowed brow turned into soft mumbles, cries for something to stop as his face contorted into pain.

Quickly, but gently, she reached forward to cup his face, her thumb brushing against his cheekbone, trying to pry him from the sleep that was plaguing him.

“Vincent, mon cœur, please. Wake up.”

He let out a soft plea that cracked her heart in two as she watched him struggle to get out of his own head.

“Non… non… j’suis désolé… laissez-moi le voir… j’ai besoin de parler avec lui...” (1)

He sounded terrified.

She caught the formality slipping from his tone, the words melding together in the conversational way her friends would often speak to each other, but never him. His guard was down, and she got the notion that this is the way he would have sounded among people he felt comfortable with, once upon a time.

She continued to gently stroke his cheek, leaning in to brush her nose against his softly, hoping that something would be able to ease him out of this trauma.

He sighed softly in his sleep, and she could tell that he was aware of her presence. He started to come to ever so slowly as his mumbles quieted down, and his brow relaxed, but the exhausted, miserable expression never left his face, even as he slowly opened his eyes to watch her.

He couldn’t respond at first, his brain still lagging behind, reliving the images of those days he never wanted to see again. She could see that his eyes were still focused elsewhere, even though his peridot gaze never left her face.

She sighed softly and leaned forward, resting her forehead against his while never breaking his gaze.

“Vincent… tu es ici. Avec moi. Reviens, mon amour.” (2)

She spoke softly, taking the care to pronounce his name with the soft, lilting accent it was given in.

He was silent for a while longer, trying to keep the silence for as long as possible as he allowed himself to leave his own head, his eyes coming back into focus, and realizing that the fuzzy image ahead of him, touching him, comforting him, was his fiancée.

He took a deep breath before trusting his voice enough to speak.

“J’y suis… j’y… je suis… ici…” (3)

He was out of his nightmare, but his voice still shook, somewhat hoarse from the lack of energy he had in him to give his own words.

His eyes weren’t wide open, but she could see that there was a shine to them signifying more than just a reflection of the light. She continued to stroke his cheek softly with the pad of her thumb to try and keep him from disconnecting from their word again. She let him continue to breathe for a minute, giving him as long as he needed to come back down to earth before she continued.

“Tu n'es pas seul. J’y suis avec toi. Ça va…” (4)

He nodded softly before closing his eyes again, taking a deep breath, and opening them again, mostly grounded.

His eyes scanned her face softly before he sighed, relieved that she, at least, was still here with him. He slowly raised a hand up to cover hers on his cheek. Turning his head ever so slightly, he pressed a kiss to the palm of her hand, watching her sincerely.

“Je te remercie, ma chérie.” (5)

He tried for a smile, but was only capable of a soft look, still competing with the scenes of suffering within his head that never seemed to disappear.

She smiled softly at him, reassuring that he needed to make no effort right now of consoling her. That she was there for him and him alone. Her hands found their way into his hair, gently combing back into position from where it had fallen in his nap.

“Same dream?” She asked softly, planting a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.

He sighed and closed his eyes, his brow furrowing once more as he once again remembered the dream he was having, this time by choice.

“Not... the same. But they’re all similar. Different retellings of the same events, playing over and over when they get the chance.”

He opened his eyes again and scanned her face before slowly pushing himself up into a seated position, letting his own hands take over for hers, working to straighten out his hair from it’s tousled state. She joined him after a moment, sitting in the space he had made between his two legs to allow them to sit as close as possible to each other, unhindered by their own limbs.

Her arms found their way around his neck as his settled around her waist. Her head fell perfectly into place at the crook of his neck, and he pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head before his chin rested against her hair. He let his eyes close again as he reveled in their moment of peacefulness.

She had learned early on in their relationship that there was nothing that helped him more after his fits than just holding her tight in his arms, letting himself be reminded that he was not alone, that he had something, someone he could grasp onto now, instead of letting himself fall further into that abyss of grief.

He felt one of her hands lazily twirling the strands of hair at the back of his neck, a habit she often unknowingly exercised when they were together. He knew it was nonchalant to her, that it was just a silly habit of keeping her hands busy, but to him it was one of the most reassuring things in the world, especially in moments like this.

He had never expected this level of domesticity between the two of them. After everything they’d been through, the best he had hoped for was oddly timed meetings and an ever present tension that neither of the two ever planned on acting on. But she had proved him wrong, like she had again and again, but this time, she had proved him wrong in the best way.

He didn’t know where he would have been without her. Their experiences over the past couple of years had certainly shaped him, for better and for worse, and he couldn’t imagine trying to face the challenges he now faced without her at his side. She kept him sane. She kept him safe.

This silly American journalist that had saved the entire city, partly from his own form of destruction, had turned around and saved him too.

He was broken from his thoughts as he felt her breath tickle softly against his neck as she spoke up once more.

“You haven’t dreamt like that in a while. What brought it back today?”

She shifted slightly, pulling back just enough to let her see his face again instead of hiding it away.

He didn’t have the courage to tell her that part of the reason that his nightmares had started to quiet was because of her presence beside him.

He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, his brow furrowing in frustration.

“The board has me working nonstop. Ever since I returned to the office they seem to have a personal vendetta against me and aren’t letting me continue my work in peace.” He shook his head softly, feeling himself get more worked up at the thought of his present situation. “It’s bad enough that they make those bloody impossible demands just to ridicule me in front of the entire company, but now they’ve started stealing my personal time at home with you and Este-”

He froze for a moment, feeling his eyes go wide as a pair of soft lips pressed softly to his brow, over the place where a nearly invisible scar from a long time ago sat, sectioning his eyebrow into two.

She stayed there for a moment, letting her lips linger before pulling back with a gentle smile, resting her forehead against his once more.

He was used to her throwing him off his rhythm, whether it be ruining his masterplan to control Paris, or straddling him on a bench at three in the morning after being carried home in his arms because she fainted, it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for her to surprise him.

But this action, this tiny little kiss, signified so much more than that to him. Her kissing the only physical reminder he had of the incident, the only scratch he had gotten when others had received so much worse, made him connect all the dots together in his head, and he momentarily forgot about all his troubles at work.

He wanted to pull her into his arms and never let go. To tell her all the pent-up words inside his head; the paranoia that one day she might grow tired of him, the overwhelming love for her that swelled up so much at times that he thought his heart might burst, and most of all, the crushing fear he lived with that reminded him that one day, she might be taken from him too, and he didn’t know if he would ever be able to recover from that a second time.

He closed his eyes and swallowed tightly, carefully considering his words so that they might not tumble out frantically and so that he might be able to fight off the tears from rolling down his cheeks that were currently building up within his eyes.

“J’ai peur… j’ai peur de te perdre… juste comme je l’ai perdu…” (6)

His eyes opened again and gazed into hers. His walls down. His fear displayed for her to see. There were no innuendos, no games to protect him in this moment. Not in her presence. He wanted her to see everything. To give himself bare to her that she might accept him with open arms.

“Je ne sais pas ce que je ferais si je te perdais… Je ne pourrais pas supporter de perdre quelqu’un d’autre comme toi… donc s’il te plaît... ne me quitte pas…” (7)

He looked at her with the wide, shining green eyes of a broken man. More open and sincere than she’d ever seen him be. She felt her own eyes welling up with tears at the thought, knowing that she, too, could never bear to lose him, and at the knowledge of how he truly felt about her. She never wanted to see him suffering again.

She nodded softly and pulled him just to gently rest her forehead against his, not trying to kiss him or insinuate any other type of affection, just reassuring him that she was here, and that she would do everything in her power to ensure that he would never be alone again.

“Je ne vais nulle part, mon cœur, pas sans toi.” (8)

---------------------------------------------------

French Translations

“No… no… I’m sorry… Let me see him… I need to speak with him…”

“Vincent, you are here. With me. Come back, my love.”

“I’m here… I… I’m… here.”

“You aren’t alone. I’m here with you. It’s alright…”

“I thank you, my dear.”

“I’m afraid… I’m afraid of losing you.. Just like I lost him…”

“I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you… I couldn’t bear losing someone else like you… so please… don’t leave me.”

“I’m not going anywhere, my love, not without you.”

---------------------------------------------------

This was a fun one to write! I was thinking about Paul’s anniversary ever since @lostaurum ‘s post, and I wanted to incorporate that here, so I hope you enjoyed!

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troy-boltons-pink-jelly · 3 years

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together, apart

This, uh, this got away from me. It was meant to just be a “let me write down how I would roughly make this story that I’m not going to actually write” and then, uh, yeah, this??? ANYWAY

Troy and Gabriella break up during senior year of college. It's mutual and they leave on good terms, but it still hurts. After this a very tumultuous time begins in Troy's life. He graduates and moves back to Albuquerque. He's lost for a while, really lost, turns out he never really figured out how to be on his own. Fortunately for him, Chad is there to pick up the pieces, he always is, in the same way as Troy is always there for him, because they always are, and Troy starts building himself back up. They move in together, the roommate experience they never had, and it's good, he's doing better and spending a lot of time with Chad, a lot, and it's all good.

At least, until Gabriella shows up again. They haven't spoken a lot since the break up and she shows up uninvited. And she also shows up pregnant. Troy very nearly passes out.

She has told her mum, but insisted no one else should know. Her mum is supportive, of course she is, but urging her to tell Troy, or maybe her friends, but Gabriella has been scared of telling Troy, scared of what it will mean, if he will be mad or deny to have anything to do with it, they're not even together anymore, and the possible rejection is even worse than not telling him. It doesn't hold up and she has to tell him.

Troy is none of those things, because that isn't Troy. If anything he's almost apologetic and immediately promises he's there for her, whatever she wants, however she needs him, he wants to be involved in this, he takes full responsibility and Gabriella remembers why she fell in love with him. Then they fall quiet. They don't really know where to go from there. When it comes down to it, neither of them are actually very good at dealing with changes or decisions. Gabriella remembers why they broke up.

Troy tells Chad when he comes home. At first, Chad laughs and it isn't clear if he thinks it's a joke or if he finds the situation funny or if the information just turned him batshit insane, but after a moment he notices Gabriella sitting there being pregnant and an expression on Troy's face he's never seen before and the laughter stops as Chad realises his best friend is having a baby and he is much more serious after that.

Troy doesn't call his parents immediately. He spends a week in absolutely agonising pain about how to deal with it. Eventually he calls his dad. His dad goes very, very quiet on the phone after he breaks the news. A full minute passes in absolute silence. "Talk to your mum," his dad says and a moment later Troy has to retell the story to her. It turns out that after handing the phone to his wife, Jack just left to stare contemplating out the window at the basketball hoop in the backyard.

They agree on keeping the baby. That's pretty much it. Not because they disagree on other things related to the baby, but simply because they fail to talk about it. Instead, they step awkwardly around it and it takes way too long before they talk more. Chad picks up on the awkward energy between them. "What is your plan?" he asks and when Troy doesn't answer, he threatens to lock them in a room. It wouldn't work, Troy tells him. Gabriella has to pee too often, and you can't deny a pregnant woman the bathroom. But the absurdity makes him realise how stupid they are being. Chad's presence has a strange grounding effect on him and he calls Gabriella and they do talk about it. They're not together anymore, for a lot of reasons, and even if a baby is a big thing and it would be easier if they were together, they both know they wouldn't be happy. Gabriella has feared this conversation, but it's okay. They're okay. A little bit of the pressure is relieved from her. They are having a baby, together, but not together. It's a relief to have it sorted. There might even be a bit of happiness there.

Troy offers to move to California to be closer to her. Gabriella refuses the offer. She can't do that to him now, not when he's doing better, living closer to his parents, and closer to Chad. He has moved for her before, and maybe it's her time to do something like that for him. She moves to Albuquerque. So does her mum. It's easier anyway, close to Troy's parents as well. All parents and grandparents close by.

Troy goes with Gabriella to a check-up and he's nervous about it. Gabriella calms him down but he feels bad about it, she's the pregnant one, shouldn't he be calming her down? Gabriella reminds him she has done this before and she's mostly just excited for him to join her. Seeing the shape of the baby, his baby, their baby, on the monitor is almost too much. He wants to cry and he doesn't really know why, he's just so overcome with emotions, but it's mostly happiness. When they come back to Troy and Chad's apartment afterwards, Troy tells Chad about the experience with shining eyes and Chad just smiles softly and listens to him. They hug, tight and for longer than Gabriella has seen them do before. She takes note of this.

It's a girl. Troy tells his parents. After the initial shock is over, they're excited to be grandparents. Even if the situation is a bit messy. Honestly, that's what they've come to expect of Troy by now.

Chad's parents are filled in on the situation as well. It seems important for them to know all of it, but neither Chad nor Troy really knows why. Gabriella has an idea, but she doesn't tell.

Allison comes into the world an early Sunday morning. She's small and pink and absolutely perfect and Troy sits with her in his arms and he falls more in love than he ever has before. There is no doubt that he will do absolutely everything for her.

Chad is the first to visit. He holds Allison and he keeps saying how small she is and he holds her with utmost care, almost afraid of breaking her due to sheer size difference. He can't take his eyes off of her. Troy stands next to him, proudly, with his hand on Chad's arm, and his head against his shoulder. Gabriella finds she doesn't mind.

Troy lives with Gabriella for a while and their entire life is Alli, Alli, Alli. Chad is around a lot too, but quickly it becomes too much. It becomes apparent that Troy and Gabriella never could have lived together forever, but they do their best. For Allison. That's all that matters. Eventually, Gabriella has to ask Troy to move back home. To Chad. But they live close to Gabriella, so he's still around a lot. Troy does everything in his power to spend as much time as she can with Allison.

Chad is quick to make sure basketball is part of her life. Not only is a basketball jersey one of her first pieces of clothing, he also nicknames her Alley-Oop. "It's a joke that works on several levels," Chad says. "Because basketball. But also because she was-" "Yeah, I get it," Troy cuts him off sourly. Chad wraps his arm around Troy's neck and pulls him close until Troy laughs.

As soon as Allison is old enough to be away from Gabriella for a night, - or maybe as soon as Gabriella is ready for it, - Troy has Allison more of the time. More equally between her parents. They still try to spend more time all of them together than apart.

Allison is a happy, calm-tempered baby with too many grandparents for her own good. They all dote on her excessively, including Chad's parents. Allison accepts them all with smiles and happy giggles.

Troy sometimes doubts if he's good enough, if he's trying hard enough, if he could do better. Gabriella sometimes has the same feelings. They're bad at talking about it, but it comes out in bursts and they suddenly find themselves not as alone. Parenthood is difficult, but they're together, apart.

#hsm #high school musical #troy bolton #gabriella montez #chad danforth #fic #fic prompt #hsm fanfiction #fanfiction #hsm fic #together apart #allison

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kpopfanfictrash · 5 years

Text

Paralian (II)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Jungkook / Reader

Rating: 18+

Warnings: reader is a virgin, oral (female), body worship, hand holding

Genre: Pirate!AU + Merfolk!AU + Royalty!AU

Synopsis: Far away, under the sea exists the merfolk Kingdom of Venetus. Y/N is a warrior princess, sworn to protect the nation she loves. Each night she and her unit are tasked with patrolling the ocean, until one night they come across an unmarked ship. The ship carries a dangerous secret which tears Y/N’s ideals apart. In the midst of escaping said danger, Y/N is forced to rely upon a Prince. The Prince of Pirates, whose fate and Y/N’s seem inexplicably entwined. Whether their meeting will end in joy or heartbreak remains to be seen. (A -very- loose retelling of The Little Mermaid).

Word Count: 6,530

A/N: This one shot takes place after Paralian, a one shot which can be found here. I highly recommend you read Paralian before reading this.

Leaning your hands on the rail of the ship, you stare at the inked sea before you.

The night is calm, as is the dark surface of the ocean. It is not yet the season for storms – that will come later, when the air of the city is heavy and stifling with heat. When it weighs upon skin as heavily as the water. This is what Jimin explained when you asked about Paralian seasons.

Turning, you survey the deck of the schooner. It has been several weeks since you arrived in Venetus. Already, you miss the warmth of the ocean, the familiarity of home and the faces of friends. Of course, Paralian is not all bad. Taehyung came with as an assistant of sorts. Ever since you met Jungkook’s crew, the young merman has harbored a fascination with humans.

You have made new friends as well; some of whom may one day mean as much to you as your merfolk. Still, everything about this land is different. There are many sectors of Venetus, but each Lord and Lady who presides respects your father as ruler. This is not so in Paralian. Many despised the old King and now, with Jungkook as monarch, they remain skeptical of his rule.

Each time you see Jungkook, he seems tired. Dark circles ever-present under his eyes and you hear from the servants he sleeps little at night. Even when he locks himself in his tower, it is only to work. He pours over histories of past, treaties of present and pushes himself to create new solutions. His tenacity is one you recognize and so, you respect it.

It is why you have not sent for him since your arrival. The best way to help is by doing your duty and so, you go about your daily business, meeting with foreign dignitaries at your father’s request. Your presence has provoked mixed reactions at best. Paralian remembers the war, even if you do not.

Still – you have achieved a few noteworthy items. Yoongi’s position on the Council is accepted and the slave trade in Paralian has ended. You initiated a coalition of aid to be sent to Aurelian in the hopes of ending their land-locked battle.

With a sigh, you glance again at the sea. There is still much to be done, but as your father always warns, permanent change takes time. He is right, but you have never been known for your patience.

Tightening your grip on the rail, you glance at the rich silk gown you wear. Earlier tonight your deck held a party. One thrown by Taehyung in an attempt to meet more of the Paralian nobility. For the most part it worked – although now, multiple women from Jungkook’s court are madly in love with the young, blonde merman.

Laughing softly, you drain the rest of your champagne.

Champagne is another thing you have tried since coming to Paralian. It is not available, nor is it practical under the sea – on land though, it is considered a delicacy. You cannot help but agree, since the fizzy sensation is wonderful, although you must be careful not to overindulge. The first time you drank, you did not understand and Taehyung spent the better part of an evening holding your hair over a bucket.

Vomiting is an unpleasant human sensation. Grimacing at this, you step away from the rail. Only a few Paralians remain onboard your ship. Taehyung is surrounded by admirers, as he usually is. Bringing him instead of Hoseok was a purposeful decision. Hoseok is many things, but charming is not one of them – this is something he knows and embraces. Taehyung is here to smooth over the feathers you ruffle.

He laughs at someone’s joke, the mercurial noise booming over the deck. Most of the party’s attendees have staggered to land, filling the halls of Paralian taverns until the wee hours of the morning. You will not follow – you cannot. Instead, you return to your cabin and prepare for tomorrow.

Another long day awaits, filled with small talk and meetings. Handing your glass to a server, you gather your skirts and cross towards your rooms. Taehyung catches your eye when you pass, beckoning to join the crowd at his side. The glass in his hand is still full, as are those of the people around him. Chuckling, you shake your head no and continue. It was a polite gesture, more than anything else; Taehyung knows the nobles are uncomfortable around you, due to your title.

Your cabins are at the far end of the hall, taking up the entire stern of the ship. It seemed extravagant when you boarded, but Taehyung insisted upon the arrangement. Half of politics is presentation, he argued and you reluctantly agreed.

The door creaks when it opens, pausing in darkness to fumble for a light. This is another difference between Paralian and home. In Venetus, all rooms are lit by bioluminescence but here, the lamps are oil and fire. Your fingers are clumsy striking the match; you nearly burn yourself twice in the process. In your first few days ashore, you burnt yourself often while becoming accustomed.

Your Paralian servants are always here to help, but you shoo them away. It is not because you do not trust them – although, come to think of it, perhaps you should not. You trust Jungkook and certain members of his court, but you cannot deny that animosity exists. You have experienced it often from the deck of your ship.

Releasing a sigh, you stare at yourself in the mirror. These quarters are another source of discomfort. Removing pins from your hair, you place these on the dresser. Living in Paralian, you are confined to this ship. Jimin once spoke of a wing Jungkook intends to build in the palace, one ankle-deep in water, but that is years away at best. In the meantime, you are forced to live within a few thousand square feet.

The claustrophobia is a far cry from your endless Kingdom of water. Glancing outside your window, you stare at the night sky. The stars seem dim in comparison to the town. Another oddity, in your opinion. Why bother to use artificial light, when the stars and moon are brighter than anything conjured?

Shaking your head, you begin to undo your laces – apparently, it is frowned upon for Paralian women to wear trousers – when a knock sounds at your door.

Your head jerks up, hands falling to your sides. It is unusual for someone to call upon you at this hour. Taehyung would not, unless it was an emergency and hurriedly, you rush to the door. Since leaving Venetus, you have not carried your sword on this ship. It lies, polished and unused, upon the oak of your desk. You stare at this for a moment before deciding against it. If someone truly wished you dead, they would not bother to knock.

Gripping the handle, you open the door.

Jungkook stands in the hall, framed by the moonlight.

You blink. Since your arrival, he has not visited once. Likely, this is due to his aforementioned schedule, but you cannot deny it hurts. After all that transpired between you, you thought – perhaps wrongly – he would wish to see you.

Jungkook clears his throat. “Good evening, Princess.”

“Evening?” Your brow raises despite yourself. “It is nearly midnight, Your Majesty.”

Jungkook makes a face. “There’s no need for such formality.”

“I believe you started it, Majesty, by calling me Princess.”

Jungkook stares for a moment, then smiles. “I suppose I did,” he admits.

He seems tired. Dark circles shadow his eyes, the crease of his jacket is wrinkled and his posture, normally impeccable, is slouched. The weight of his crown seems heavier than gold upon his brow. Still, he is beautiful and you cannot look away.

“Jungkook?” you prompt when he says nothing more. “Was there something you wanted to ask?”

“I – er, yes. No. Kind of?”

Your lips press together, hiding your amusement. “Well, which is it?”

Jungkook rubs the back of his neck. “I actually... came here to apologize.”

“Apologize?” Careful, you keep your words light. “Whatever for?”

“Please,” Jungkook murmurs. His gaze glints in the darkness. “I think you know what for. I have not been a very gracious host.”

“On the contrary.” Turning around, you re-enter your rooms. Leaving the door open, you invite him over the threshold. “My living spaces are adequate, my food always warm, my meetings arranged. It is everything an Ambassador could hope for.”

“You are not only an Ambassador to me.”

Your feet freeze, heart hammering your ribcage. His tone conjures memories which have haunted you for months. The press of his lips near the water, the whispered entreaties against your skin. You yearn for this, long to hear those words again – much in the same way you long for the sea.

The topic has not been revisited since your arrival and in this, you wondered if you were alone. Perhaps it was merely grief which caused him to kiss you. Perhaps he has forgotten, or time has lessened his wanting.

Behind you, the door softly closes. “Y/N.” Jungkook sounds distressed. “Say something.”

Your fingers curl into the fabric of your dress. “Say what?” you ask, hardly daring to breathe. If you turn around now, if you see him, there is no telling what you might do.

Jungkook’s footsteps grow closer behind you. “I would understand if you are angry.” He walks until he faces your front. “I – I know I should have come sooner.”

Tilting your chin up, you meet his gaze. “I don’t fault you for that.”

“Maybe you should.”

“You’ve been busy.”

“Mm.” Jungkook looks at you strangely. “But that isn’t why I stayed away.”

Reeling backwards, you attempt to compose your features. That is not what you thought he would say. “I – oh,” you stammer, uncertain what to do now.

Swiftly, Jungkook catches your hands in his. “I kept wanting to come,” he admits, slightly hoarse. “I did. And I was busy, but that wasn’t the main thing keeping me from you.”

“Oh?” Gaze roaming his face, your brow furrows. “Then, what was?”

“I was scared.”

“Scared? That doesn’t sound like the fearsome pirate I know.”

“Not a pirate anymore,” he reminds, glancing up at his crown. “In my short time as monarch, I’ve found Kings are afraid of all sorts of things.”

His words are reminiscent of your father. An entire Kingdom at his fingertips and what your father feared most was losing you, losing your mother. Slowly, you begin to understand what is bothering him.

“Jungkook,” you say kindly. “What frightens you?”

“Many things.” His grip tightens on yours. “I’m scared of leading my country to danger. Scared my instincts are all the wrong ones. I’m afraid of becoming attached,” he admits, “only to be hurt in the end.”

Heart constricting, you look down. Jungkook is still healing, that much is obvious – with the way his father died, you are not surprised. It is difficult for him to trust and you wonder if it was the wrong move to wait for him to come to you. Initially, you thought you were giving him space but maybe not. Jungkook has already told you his feelings, after all. You have yet to say anything.

Stepping closer, your hands find his arms. Jungkook inhales, startled.

“I can’t make you trust me,” you whisper. Your words echo what he once said to you.

Jungkook does not respond. His gaze is hesitant, looking at you.

“I can tell you what I feel, though.” Heart beating erratically, it elicits a similar sensation to the champagne.

Slowly, he nods, waiting for you to continue.

“I petitioned my father for weeks to let me be the Venetun Ambassador,” you quietly admit. “He didn’t want me to be, at first.”

“No?” Jungkook seems confused. “Why not?”

“It’s funny.” Gently, you laugh and shake your head. “I asked him the same thing. I think everyone else knew I was falling in love before I did.”

Jungkook freezes in place.

“Hoseok, my father...” Giving a shrug, you trail off. “I didn’t know what I was feeling. I didn’t know what to do with these feelings, what to call them – but Jungkook.” You seek out his gaze. “I have not stopped thinking of you since I left. I… I have only ever felt this way before with the sea.”

“The sea?”

With a nod, you step closer. “I have only ever felt this,” you inhale, “longing for the ocean before.”

Gaze darkening, Jungkook stares when your body presses to his. He is so close, your entire body throbs from the pulse of his heart.

“Everything I learn makes me want to know more,” you whisper. “Your kindness, your sincerity, this mark on your cheek.” Finally, you brush the scar with your fingers. “Everything that you are – I want to know more.”

“And what if you find me lacking?” Jungkook’s lips hover over yours. There is such joy to his expression, your legs nearly buckle.

“Impossible,” you say, eyes shining. “I find the opposite more likely.”

Jungkook makes a dismissive sound. “As though,” he exhales, pushing hair behind your ear. “I could ever lose interest in you.”

His hand does not stop. Tentatively, Jungkook trails fingers down your throat, your collarbone and hesitates at your shoulder. Repressing a shiver, you stare brazenly back. Without stopping to think, your hand closes over his and tugs the garment aside.

Jungkook inhales at your exposed skin. As though hypnotized, he bends to brush a kiss to your body. A moan escapes you before you can stop it, clutching his arms to hold yourself up.

“Y/N.” He looks upwards, hunger to his gaze. “What do you want from me?”

“I… I don’t know.”

Truthfully, you do not. You have not the words to describe what you want from him. All you know is you want more; you want him here and now, you do not want to wait.

Jungkook’s thumb brushes over your collarbone. “Is this…?” He hesitates, rethinking his words. “Have you ever…?”

Slowly, you shake your head no.

The idea of loving another is different for merfolk. Marriage is a relatively new concept, introduced through centuries of human interaction. Despite this, your kind has always been monogamous. You refer to the practice as mating, and it is not legally binding. Copulation is also different to your kind – there are theories amongst your people this is where human origin comes from.

Merfolk attain legs while standing above the water. It is in this form you procreate, and this is what merfolk do once they are mated. You have never felt the inclination to be mated and so, you have not tried.

Jungkook’s gaze becomes hesitant. “I don’t wish to do anything before you’re ready.”

“Then, only do as I tell you.”

His gaze darkens. “What would you have me do?”

Boldly, you lift your chin. “Kiss me, Jungkook.”

The request changes something between you. Insecurities banished, Jungkook’s hands slide to your face. He bends, brushing your lips with his and a fervor ignites, deep in your soul. The flames twist and dance, threatening to destroy if you do not give them more.

Feverishly, your lips open with his. Jungkook groans as your tongues slip together, bodies carefully distant until you take a step forward. Crushing yourself to his chest, Jungkook’s hand winds in your hair while the other slides to your back. You cannot breathe; there is no thought aside from this dizzying, drowning need for him.

Breaking away, you tug him along. Kisses softening, you press your lips against his until your knees hit the desk. Jungkook bends, grasping your thighs to hoist you onto the table. His right hand hooks your knee, pulling you forward as your bodies collide. Spread out against him, you can feel the entire tenuous length of his body.

Jungkook’s forehead presses to yours, right hand under your knee and his eyes mostly shut. Your hand slides up his neck, seeking his face. Gently, your thumb brushes his chin, his lips and the scar on his cheek.

Jungkook’s eyes flutter open. “What have you done to me?” His voice is ragged. “I have never… I am not in control around you.”

A smile creases your lips. “Whatever spell you speak of,” you say, stroking his cheek. “It has ensnared me, as well.”

Turning, Jungkook brushes a kiss to your thumb. “Tell me what else you want, Princess.”

“Undress me.”

His eyes widen. “I – are you certain?”

Jungkook sounds strained, as though holding himself back. You appreciate his concern; the clarity of his effort to give you what you want. You wish this to be pleasurable for him, too though. Gently, you move to press your lips against his.

Jungkook melts into the kiss, seeking further reassurance. His tongue turns hot and needy, tracing your own. “I,” he breathes, breaking away. “That is all very well, but Princess…” He pauses. “I cannot say I have been chaste with others before. This is different, though. This is…”

“More,” you finish quietly, threading your fingers in his hair. “I understand.”

Jungkook gives you a searching look. “It might hurt,” he says, softer. “I have heard that from others before.”

“I trust you,” you say, knowing the truth in the statement. Jungkook has your heart more than he might realize.

“And I, you.”

Leaning forward, he reignites the kiss in between you. Nose nudging yours, he parts your lips with his own. Sinking into the sensation, you allow his warmth to pull you under.

“Wait,” Jungkook pants, suddenly breaking away. “I – uh, what about protection?”

Heat singes your veins at the thought. “You don’t have to... worry about that,” you assure him.

Jungkook’s brows knit together. “I don’t?”

“You,” you flush. “You see… Yoongi gave me a few potions before I left. He said that I might have need…”

Trailing off, you wave lamely towards your dresser.

Jungkook’s lips press together, as though fearful of laughter. “Oh,” he murmurs, a darker gleam entering his eyes. Gripping your waist, he pulls you roughly against him. “Do you find a need for them now, Princess?”

Lips parting, your eyes widen at the press of his length to your core. Head floods the willing space between your thighs. Gaze darting lower, you seek out his manhood but see nothing but skirts and trousers.

Gaze snapping upwards, you frown. “Undress me,” you say.

Grasping your thighs, Jungkook lifts you off of the desk. “Not here,” he insists, wrapping your legs tightly around him. Walking across the cabin, he comes to a stop at your bed. “I wish,” he exhales, lowering one knee to your mattress, “I could have you in my bed. It seems awfully unfair for you to keep these memories to yourself.”

“Mm.” Letting go of his neck, you let him lower you to the sheets. “Perhaps one day.”

Jungkook hovers above you, one knee in between yours. “What do you mean?” he asks, curious.

“I didn’t want to say anything until it was certain.” His fingers reach underneath you, so you arch your back. “Not until I knew it was an option, at least.”

Finding your laces, Jungkook loosens these with deft pulls of his fingers. “Y/N.” Sitting back on his heels, Jungkook removes his crown and places this on the floor. “What option? What aren’t you certain of?”

He has stopped undressing you, which you find most inconvenient. “Well.” You prop yourself on both elbows. “I asked Yoongi to look into something for me. He is still learning his magic, you know – his father didn’t have a chance to teach him much. What he can and can’t do is uncertain and I asked him to… Well…”

“You asked him to do what?”

“I asked him if merfolk could transition to human on a more… permanent basis.”

Jungkook pauses, hardly daring to hope. “Is... such a thing even possible?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “There are stories, but I always assumed them to be just that – stories.”

“But if they are not…”

You stare back at him, unwilling to voice it aloud.

Jungkook’s expression changes. “I don’t want you to be anything you aren’t, Y/N.”

“I know,” you murmur. “I would still be me with fins or with legs, though. This way... at least we have options.”

He stares at you silently, at war with himself. If the possibility is not certain, it is hard to let himself hope. But if it is – lowering his head, Jungkook presses his lips against yours. The gesture contains all the intimacy of a promise. He hovers over you for a moment, not opening his eyes.

“Jungkook.”

He opens his eyes.

“Why am I still in this dress?”

His lips quirk; a humor quickly dispelled. “How rude,” Jungkook drawls, hands sliding beneath you. “In Paralian, those who question the King are punished.”

Rather than be a deterrent, the words send an ache to your core. You would like to be punished by him. “Are they?” you whisper, arching a brow. “This seems the very kind of thing I was sent here to stop.”

With a chuckle, Jungkook pushes himself to his knees. Grasping your ankles, his hands slowly slide up the hem of your skirt. With each inch of skin revealed, his gaze becomes focused. Candlelight illuminates the long length of your legs, crimson silk draped around them. Lowering his head, Jungkook presses a kiss to your knee.

Quietly, he inhales. “I have often imagined,” he says, gaze flicking upwards. “The taste of your body beneath me.”

You have no response – indeed, all words die in your throat.

Grasping your waist, he pulls you into a seated position. “Up,” Jungkook demands, lifting your arms overhead.

When you hold them in place, he tugs your dress off. The lace of your bustier remains, but the shape of your body is obvious, seated before him.

Without further ado, Jungkook lowers his lips to your jaw. From there, he trails kisses down the slope of your neck. Mouth brushing your breast, he admires the way you peak at his touch. Repeating the gesture, he glances up from your skin. Blowing gently over your nipple, he watches you harden. Slowly, Jungkook closes his lips over the peak.

Arching beneath him, you release a small gasp of pleasure. Jungkook’s hand cups your breast, keeping you still while he sucks over the lace. Depths, you have never experienced something like this before. His tongue swirls against you, making you clutch at the bed. Knees rising to cage his waist, you wantonly press your body to his.

“J-Jungkook,” you moan.

Head lifting, he smirks at your expression. Rather than stop, he merely switches to the other breast. All common sense drifts as an indescribable need takes over your body. Arching against him, the space between your thighs grows uncomfortably wet, despite you being on land.

Panting, Jungkook breaks from your breast. The lace of your bustier is obscenely damp from his sucking, licking and swirling. It makes your core ache, but he does not stop there. Hands stroking your body, Jungkook’s gaze travels towards the apex of your thighs.

“What else do you want from me?”

“Your shirt,” you say, grasping the material. “Take it off.”

His eyes glint but he obeys, sitting back on his heels to pull this overhead. Toned, tan muscles are revealed by the motion. Staring at him, you rub your legs slowly together. There is an unbearable friction which makes you ache to be filled.

Jungkook’s gaze drops to your thighs. “I want to see you,” he confesses. “All of you.”

Nodding, you begin to undo the buttons and laces. Paralian women certainly take pride in making things as difficult as possible. When he grows impatient, Jungkook joins you to help. His fingers rip at the lace, making you laugh as more skin is revealed. Well, if he has no respect for the garment, neither do you.

When the bodice is shoved from your shoulders, Jungkook can only stare. His touch becomes gentler, spanning your waist and stroking your thighs. Tugging the bodice from your legs, he leaves you naked beneath him, but for the sea air.

“Sails,” Jungkook whispers, staring at you. Gaze darting upwards, he seeks out your own. “May I kiss you, Y/N? I promise it will feel good.”

Roughly, you nod.

Inhaling, he lowers himself to his front. Turning his head, Jungkook presses a lone kiss to your knee. Moving higher, he drifts towards the source of your tension. At the apex of your thighs, he hovers before pushing your legs apart. Watching him do this, your heartbeat quickens.

When he looks up, his gaze is dark and hungry. Slowly, Jungkook drags a finger up your slick center. The digit comes away wet and, while you watch, he places this on the tip of his tongue. Jungkook sucks, keeping his gaze firmly on yours.

“Oh,” you breathe, uncertain why you like this so much.

He smiles, unrepentant and lowers himself further. He starts off slow, placing soft kisses along the edge of your folds. His lips move up and down, getting you used to the warmth of his mouth. When you relax, Jungkook adds the flick of his tongue. Short, teasing bursts while he eases you forward.

When his tongue sweeps higher, over a forbidden place, you jolt from the pleasure. Jungkook halts, glancing up from your thighs. “Did that feel good?” he asks, sounding strained.

His lips are wet with arousal and while you watch, his tongue darts sideways to lick up his mess. Groaning, you spread your legs wider. “Please,” you beg, not caring how you sound. “I need more.”

With a smirk, Jungkook lowers his head. Now, he does not tease. Now, he buries himself closer to seek out your pleasure. His tongue moves roughly against you, tracing circles to draw moans from your lips. It soon becomes too much, body shaking beneath him. Everything feels heightened, on edge and spiraling out of control.

Jungkook slows in response, pressing soft kisses against the mound of your sex. When you cry out, you have no idea what you need, but Jungkook reads your body and responds to the motion. When he has you limp, begging beneath him, his fingers trail down to your sex. Sucking hard on your mound, he sides a finger inside you, forcing you apart at the seams.

This is what it feels like – a shuddering wave of pleasure which drags you under. Your vision pulses, darkening as you arch on the bed. Jungkook guides you though it, kissing and licking as you come down from your high.

Grasping the sheets tight in both hands, you open your eyes. The ceiling above you is the same and yet, everything is different. Your body feels loose and tight at the same time, unbearably sensitive. Jungkook drops a kiss to your thigh and looks upwards.

“Did you like it?” he murmurs.

“I – depths,” you swear, still catching your breath.

He smiles, eyes crinkling adorably. Pushing himself upwards, Jungkook hovers over your body. “Can I kiss you?” he asks, lips brushing your cheek.

“Why wouldn’t you?”

“Some women don’t like –”

Bringing his lips to yours, you silence his question. He tastes different, salty but you like it, tongue hesitantly brushing his lips. Jungkook kisses you eagerly, lips molding to yours – which is when you feel his length, hard against your thigh.

Pulling away, you glance down. Jungkook still is wearing his trousers but even so, you see evidence of his arousal. Your body still feels pleasantly buzzed, but you find your need far from being satisfied. Somehow, it feels worse. To have had Jungkook’s mouth, his finger inside you – you cannot stop wondering what else there is.

Slowly, your gaze lifts to his. “Take off your pants.”

Jungkook’s brows rise. “But… we just…”

“Jungkook.” Lacing his fingers with yours, you bring both your hands to rest between your thighs. His eyes turn glassy at the mess he just made. “I want you – all of you.”

Instantly, Jungkook pushes himself back on the bed. Stripping himself of his trousers, they join your dress and his crown on the floor. When he is fully naked, you prop yourself on your elbows to drink him in. Jungkook’s cheeks flush; lips wet from your body, dark hair falling into his gaze.

Between his legs is his cock. It looks just as it felt, pressed against your thigh – thick, veined and hard to the touch. Reaching out a hand, you brush your thumb over the tip.

Jungkook shudders, catching your hand in his. “Unless,” he pants, clenching his jaw. “You wish me to come undone right now, I would advise not doing that.”

Staring at him in amazement, you realize how badly he wants you. Jungkook grips himself with one veiny hand, squeezing his length as a bit more pre-cum seeps out.

“Clearly,” he murmurs, “you see how much I want you. It’s more than that, though.” Shifting, Jungkook presses his body to yours. He inhales deeply, feeling your skin against his. “My feelings haven’t changed, Y/N. When I’m with you, I feel –”

“Complete,” you echo, brushing your lips with his. “Jungkook. I want you like this.”

Nodding, he kisses you slower. Hand parting your thighs, he savors the mess he just made. “You’re so wet,” he moans, sighing in satisfaction.

“Is that a good thing?”

“Mm. Very good,” he says, sinking a finger inside you.

Gasping, you grip his arms tighter. It feels tight but good, your body clenched around his. Jungkook stills for a moment, allowing you to adjust. When he moves, he goes slow, curling his finger inside you. When you moan out his name, he adds another finger.

The second one hurts a bit more. Jungkook seems concerned, but you shake your head and urge him to continue. He obeys and before long, it feels just as good as the first finger. Even better – arching satisfactorily, your hunger only deepens.

“More,” you say, head thrown back on the pillow.

Lowering his head, Jungkook kisses your throat. When he does, he slides in a third finger. You groan, clenching hard around him as he pants. “You’re so tight, Y/N. I – sails, I don’t think you know what you’re doing to me.”

“I can see what it’s doing to you,” you say, wickedly glancing at his cock.

Jungkook’s length twitches, harder than before. He smirks, gently rubbing your clit with his thumb. As you adjust to the feeling, his fingers sink further inside you. When you groan, Jungkook begins scissoring your walls.

Grasping his arms, you roll your hips slowly against him. “Jungkook,” you whine, unable to take any more.

“Yes?”

“Please,” you beg. “Please, I need you inside me.”

When he withdraws, you protest but already, Jungkook aligns his cock at your center. Mouth drying, you stare at the thickness of his length. You thought three fingers would be enough to prepare you but now, you are not certain.

Jungkook presses a kiss to your shoulder and you slowly relax. He will take care of you – you know this. Resting his tip at your center, Jungkook rolls your clit with nimble fingers. When you mewl, arching against him, he slips in an inch.

This is enough for you to gasp, eyes watering from the stretch. “Oh,” you blurt, burying your face in his chest.

“We can stop,” Jungkook pants, beginning to withdraw.

Frantically, your hands move to clutch him in place. “No,” you say, looking up. “Keep going.”

Seeing your determined expression, Jungkook slowly nods. He continues to play with your clit, making you moan as he pushes another inch in.

“Oh,” you groan, arching against him. You feel split, torn by the sensation but it is not unbearable. Indeed, there is an odd mix of pleasure from the wetness you feel.

His fingers continue to play with your sex, making you moan as he slips further in.

“Almost there,” Jungkook murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Halfway and already,” he whispers, hot in your ear, “you’re the tightest, wettest thing I’ve ever had wrapped around my cock.”

His words make your lips part in a daze. It sounds obscene, coming from such lovely lips but you find you want more. Hands sliding into his hair, you open your legs further and Jungkook groans, sinking in. It burns, but less so than before. There is this deep, throbbing need to have him fill you entirely.

“That’s it,” he groans, rubbing your clit. His cock pulses, hot and needy inside you. “Just a little bit more, Y/N. You’re doing so well.”

Hearing his praises, you arch a bit further. Jungkook thrusts deeper with a grunt and you gasp, feeling a last wave of pain. It makes you see stars and you wonder if the dampness between your legs is more than only arousal. Already, it fades from the press of his lips to your skin.

“There,” Jungkook croons, lips tracing your jaw. “That’s it, Y/N. That’s all.”

Clasping him tightly, you slowly adjust to the feeling. His cock is so large, buried in you to the hilt. You have never felt a fullness like this before. Jungkook continues to touch you, tracing your waist, your chest and whispering how lovely you are. Preening at his words, you arch and feel him slip deeper inside.

“Oh!” you blurt in surprise.

“Y/N?” Worried, Jungkook’s gaze snaps to yours. “Are you alright? Does it hurt? I can –”

Grasping his chin, you bring his gaze to yours. “I – do that again,” you say, breathless.

Jungkook’s gaze darkens. Slowly, he withdraws and pushes deeper inside.

“O-oh,” you groan, legs shaking beneath him.

Your body is sore, perhaps a bit overstretched but all this is overshadowed by the thrust of his cock. Seeing the change in your expression, Jungkook pulls back a bit further. Slowly, he aligns and sinks into your center. A low, needy whine is pulled from your lips.

“Harder,” you gasp, clutching his body.

Gaze darkening, he nods. Withdrawing gently, he snaps his hips forward. It feels so good to have him move deep inside you. Jungkook thrusts again, rougher as tension mounts in your body. The sensation is different than before, with his tongue on your clit.

Now, his entire body moves against yours. Now he is fully inside you, urging you to come. His arms gather you close, hooking an ankle over his ass to grind into you deeper. Jungkook thrusts harder, faster and you begin to see stars.

“Jungkook,” you groan, biting down on his shoulder to stifle your moans.

“No.” He thrusts harder. “I want to hear you. Want to hear how you feel, what you want.”

“I want more,” you gasp as he fills you. “Want you harder, Jungkook. Deeper – oh! Oh!”

His name leaves your lips, louder as he fucks into you harder. You are aware the walls of the ship are thin; you should really be quieter, but cannot seem to care. Let them hear. Let them know how badly you want him, how badly he wants you.

Slowing down, Jungkook thrusts into you deeper. His hips roll as he enters, making you feel his whole length. You gasp underneath him, groaning his name when your hips rise to meet him.

“I want you to come like this,” he whispers against your lips. Rolling his hips slowly against you, he makes your toes curl. “Want you to come, soft and moaning. You can scream my name another night.”

“Another night?” you moan, gripping his waist with your thighs.

Nodding, Jungkook presses his lips against yours. His fingers interlace with your own, hips continuing their relentless motion against you. Each time he withdraws, you whimper and each time he enters, you moan. Rolling his hips, Jungkook grinds himself against your clit.

“Mm, another night,” he agrees in between kisses. “Every night. C-come for me, Y/N.”

Hearing how close he sounds, you do not think you could stop if you tried. Clasping him tightly, you fall over the edge. With his name on your lips, you shudder apart underneath him. Jungkook swears, feeling you clench and finally, he lets go. You feel him release, warm cum filling your body with thrust after thrust.

When he is finished, Jungkook half-collapses against you. His lips drag over your skin, messy as he slowly pulls out. Glancing around, he spots a towel on your bedside and reaches to grab it.

“What are you doing?” You blink, shutting your legs on his hand.

Jungkook’s lips quirk at your response. “Cleaning,” he says, gently wiping your body. “The, uh – well, my… I don’t want to make a mess of your sheets.”

Realizing the meaning, your cheeks heat as you open your legs. Jungkook is fast, cleaning himself and lowering the rag to the ground. When he is finished, he resumes looking at you.

“What are you looking at?” you whisper, feeling oddly exposed.

Smiling, Jungkook bends to brush his lips against yours. He lingers and your arms slowly rise, circling his neck and pulling him down. Jungkook’s legs entwine with yours, kissing you gently until he breaks away, breathless.

“What I was thinking…” Pausing, he wraps your fingers in his. “Is that I want this every night.”

“This?” you ask, arching a brow.

Chuckling, Jungkook traces your arm with a finger. He cannot seem to look away, mapping your skin with his gaze. “Well, yes, that. But also, you. In my bed.”

He shuts his mouth and you sense there is more to the sentence but for now, that will do. Lifting your hand, Jungkook slowly kisses each one of your fingers. He lingers on your ring finger, lifting his gaze and, although your heartbeat quickens, he moves on to your pinky.

Lowering your hands, Jungkook interlaces the fingers.

“Stay with me tonight,” you whisper, pressing closer.

He nods, a sleepy smile on his lips. “However long you want me, I’ll stay.”

Paralian character ask game found here

#smutcentralnet #bangtanarmynet #bts smut #jungkook smut #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #bts fantasy #jungkook fantasy #bts au #jungkook au

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piratewithvigor · 3 years

Text

Out Of Sight, Out Of Our Minds: Chapter 1

Summary: After a freak accident lighting a stove, Hawkeye suffered severe flash burns that have left him blinded. Most people recover within a week or so, but as the days drag on, BJ becomes more convinced that Hawkeye isn’t most people.

Word Count: 2050

A/N: This is a birthday present for the wonderful @the--blackdahlia who inspired me to get back into a writing groove after months of inactivity. It’s a retelling of the season 5 episode “Out Of Sight, Out Of Mind”, so there will definitely be spoilers ahead.

BJ had never liked baseball all that much. He was a little too scrawny as a kid to play with the others and listening to games on the radio bored him senseless. That never stopped Peg from dragging him to Seals Stadium on the weekends he couldn’t come up with any work-related excuse. She’d been a fan ever since the AAGPBL had established a team in her hometown of Kenosha and though her loyalties changed upon her move to San Francisco with BJ, her craze for the game had never wavered. BJ never exactly wanted to spend his afternoons in a ballpark that was too hot and sunny, watching a game that always felt just a little too long, but watching Peg get so thrilled was worth the three dollars he spent on the tickets.

Of course, it wasn’t late in the afternoon, nor was it warm, and he wasn’t seated in the plastic chairs of the ball park. It was nearly three in the morning, with a chill breezing through his tent in Korea and Peg wasn’t there making the sounds of baseball bearable. He’d heard Hawkeye mumble at Frank to turn off the radio at least a dozen times and no matter how firmly he pressed his thin pillow against his ears, information about the bout between the Dodgers and the Giants kept leaking in. It didn’t even seem like Frank actually cared who won. Just what the score was. He never cheered, not even the little hissed ‘yes’ when either team scored like Peg did. It sounded more like he was just listening to know. Especially when BJ heard the tell-tale scratch of a pencil against paper. Probably some kind of slimy scheme to get ahead in life, as Frank was known to do. But this late at night, BJ couldn’t bring himself to care. The only thing he heard that made him smile was the announcement of the 4-3 concluding score and the promise of a rebroadcast at noon.

“Shut it off, Frank,” Hawkeye mumbled, pulling his thin blankets further over himself. “It’s 4-3 in the morning.”

“Stop dreaming and go back to sleep,” Frank shot back, switching off the little radio as he moved around in bed, assumedly trying to find a position on the cot that would retain body heat, but also fit between the limits.

“That makes good nonsense.”

BJ loved Hawkeye, really, he did, but the man had a serious problem with always needing the last word.

Now that the static-filled broadcast had been shut off, the tent seemed almost quiet. Korea was never dead silent, BJ had learned, but he took what he could where he could get it. As long as they weren’t being actively fired upon and there were no choppers going overhead, it was quiet in his books. He was finally starting to doze off when the door to the Swamp opened and at least two pairs of feet scuttled in. BJ hoped to God they were just very large rats. Rats didn’t make much noise besides the occasional squeak of fright.

“Hawkeye?”

Rats didn’t ask for doctors by name.

Rats.

“Wake up, Hawkeye, the stove in our tent went out.”

“Again?”

This wasn’t the first time the nurses had had issues with their stove this winter. It only happened once or twice when it first started getting cold, but when the winds got more violent, the stove seemed to be going out once a night. If BJ didn’t know any better, he’d think the nurses were just scheming to get Hawkeye alone in a room full of nurses and not have his wits about him.

“It’s freezing in there.”

“It’s warm in here.”

“There are four of us.”

BJ nearly chuckled at the resignation in Hawkeye’s voice as he pulled off his blanket to stand.

“I knew I should have gotten a bigger bed.”

“Could you people hold it down?” Frank piped up, his voice grating at BJ’s nerves. “I mean, show some consideration.”

“I don’t remember leaving a wake-up scream,” BJ grumbled. Consideration, his ass.

“Thanks, Hawkeye, you’re the only one who can fix it.” BJ was pretty sure that wasn’t true and given Hawkeye’s tired mutters of disdain, he felt safe in assuming the feeling was mutual.

“BJ?”

“Hmm?”

“If I’m not back in five minutes, don’t come get me.” If he wasn’t so tired, BJ might have chuckled.

Out of the corner of his partially-opened eye, he watched the light above Hawkeye’s cot shut off and his roommate shuffle out of the tent behind two nurses who were bundled up as tightly as they could be to avoid what had to be a bitter chill outside.

BJ stretched out a little as he turned onto his back to stare at the ceiling. Sleep was evading him all-too-rudely and likely would continue to until Hawkeye was back and snoring quietly. Ever since Peg and he had started sharing a bed all those years ago, BJ had begun to find it impossible to sleep without someone nearby. Frank was all the way across the tent and there was a stove between them; impossible to hear. He’d been worried coming over- there had been plenty of stories of what MASH units were like back home, but no details of the sleeping arrangements. He’d breathed an enormous sigh of relief when Hawkeye told him they’d be bunking together and an even larger one that evening when he realised his bunkmate snored loudly enough to drown out the distant sounds of gunfire. If he ever needed it, he just pretended the lanky man ten feet away was his beautiful wife, ten inches away. And if the homesickness was especially bad, he pretended Frank’s little fidgets during the night were Erin rustling in her crib. Sometimes it worked well enough to soothe him back to sleep. Other times, it left him in worse shape than he’d began. Korea had proven itself time and time again to be a lonely place, but knowing that he had people around him made it somewhat more bearable.

Between the stove warming the air around his feet and the thoughts of his family swirling around his head, the sleep that had been struggling to overtake him was finally succeeding in pulling BJ’s eyes closed. Until an explosion close enough to shake him out of any sleep he could have gotten rang through the camp. That would have been plenty to set him upright and his heart racing, but it was the collective screaming that got BJ out of bed (thank God he’d had the sense to wear shoes to bed). He paused in his scrambling just long enough to throw on his bathrobe before bolting to the nurse’s quarters. Hawkeye was stumbling out of the tent as he arrived, palms pressed to his eyes and screaming, all the while surrounded by nurses who were screaming just as shrilly. As worrisome as it was, at least Hawkeye was still able to walk. Plenty of soldiers had come through their OR who never learned of such luxury.

BJ reached him the same moment Colonel Potter did, but Potter, ever the leader, backed away from the forming posse to organise them. Flash burns were serious business and it was necessary to get Hawkeye to the OR as quickly as possible. BJ knew he heard Potter say something about an ophthalmologist, but it was hard to hear over Hawkeye’s screams of pain, the nurses’ screams of panic and the sound of his own heart pumping in his ears.

The next few hours were a blur to say the least. The sleep deprivation was already messing with his head, but hearing Hawkeye in so much pain was what was really knocking BJ out of his rhythm. He’d never seen anyone in that much pain without there being a substantial amount of blood involved. As much as he hated it, BJ had grown comfortable with blood. It was easy to fix: if it was where it wasn’t supposed to be, he had to stop it from getting there. Sometimes that involved stitching, or removing parts that were too broken to be fixed, or just removing things that weren’t supposed to be there, but there was almost always blood. In this case, there was absolutely none. The closest thing to red was Hawkeye’s bathrobe and the toasted skin around his eyes. The worst part about the whole situation was that there was nothing he could do to help. He was no ophthalmologist- didn’t know anything about the inner workings of the eyes beyond what he learned in first year biology.

BJ wasn’t sure how Radar accomplished it, but the ophthalmologist in question, Major Overman, arrived long before the sun was up and true to the reputation BJ had gathered of him, was swift in his examination and bandaging. It was awful, but the truth of the matter was that it was all there was to be done. Padding the eyes and wrapping a long length of bandage around the patient’s head so the padding wouldn’t move. It would let the eyes rest and after a week or so, if vision came back, everything would be okay. If not…

“How’s that feel?”

“Blind.”

BJ would have probably chuckled if the situation was different. The mood of the room seemed to express the same feelings. The Major didn’t even crack a smile.

“Okay, Hawkeye, you take it easy for a couple of days. I’ll be back Friday.”

Nearly a week away. As nervous as he was, BJ could only imagine the terror Hawkeye was feeling. But he never showed it. Never showed it unless you knew him, that is. He always told jokes to keep the atmosphere lighter, but he laughed at them. There was no laughter here. Not even a smile.

“Listen, one important question. Will I get to keep my nickname?”

“Let’s hope so.” The Major spoke for everyone there. They called him ‘Pierce’ often enough, That was different. Too impersonal. His name, but never his name.

“Just wondering if I should rent a seeing-eye dog or buy one.” The joking was getting weaker. Hawkeye was slowly accepting what had happened and it looked like everyone who had gathered around his cot could feel it too.

“See you Friday.”

Major Overman packed his gear and was escorted out of the post-op by Potter, asking something about a General O'Reilly. If BJ hadn’t been so on-edge, he would have maybe even laughed at the idea of Radar being a General, let alone a General who was so mad that he scared a clerk into a rushed shipment of an ophthalmologist. But instead, he was leaning on the end posts of Hawkeye’s cot, watching a nurse yell her sympathies at him. There was something about the injured and sick that made people forget what their actual ailments were and caused them to be treated as invalids. Based on Hawkeye’s wince, it was clear his partner-in-crime was already feeling the sting of the different treatment.

“You don’t have to shout, the sides still work.”

“We’re sorry,” she corrected herself, lowering her voice to a library-esque whisper.

“That’s alright. Next time, get a union man.”

“Hawk, if there’s anything you need…” It was generally said as a passing sympathy that didn’t really mean anything, but BJ wasn’t sure what else to say. He was a caretaker deep down and lord knew Hawkeye was going to need some help during the next few days.

“Well, if you’re going by the PX, you could get me a colouring book and some crayons.” Hawkeye’s head was angled towards him, but he wasn’t facing him by a long shot. Whether because it didn’t matter or because he didn’t care, BJ wasn’t sure. Nor was he sure he wanted to know the answer.

“I think you’re sick enough to qualify for the big box. I gotta go.” He was smiling, but BJ was sure Hawkeye could hear the worry in his voice. He tried to keep calm and carry on, no matter what the war threw, but this wasn’t something he could just walk away from. He wanted to be there.

“BJ?”

“Yeah?”

“Visit me a couple hundred times, will ya?” The request was small and quiet, almost desperate.

“At least.”

#Writing #Out Of Sight Out Of Our Minds #MASH #Fanfiction #Hawkeye Pierce #BJ Hunnicutt

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delanyb · 4 years

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Since I’ve been slacking off with the Fnaf headcanon series for quite some time now, with no good reason, have some AR skins and event character headcanons

Shamrock Freddy

Like Frostbear and Firework Freddy,he’s a Freddy made specifically for the holidays. St. Patrick day to be exact

Has a Irish ascent to go with his holiday theme

Similar to Rockstar Freddy, he desires Faz-coin to a unhealthy degree

Enjoys talking about St. Patrick day traditions and folklore.

Is pretty self-centered

Usually picks on Frostbear for no good reason

All the other animatronics who take part in the Fazbear Funtime Service either are indifferent to him like Chica or 8 Bit Baby. While others like regular Freddy and Bonnie hate him for just being a overall jerk

In some instances when the animatronics are being shipped together in trucks for customers, a Shamrock Freddy always seems to cause some sort of commotion that usually leaves everyone in mangled animatronic parts by the end

The company was actually considering removing him off from the service completely given all the problem he caused

But considering that he makes for great revenue during the St. Patrick day season, they just left him alone for the other animatronics to deal with.

Firework Freddy

Aside from Chica with her cupcake, he’s the only one who comes with a accessory.

Has lots of nicknames, but the most common ones are Firework and just Summer Freddy

All the other animatronics find his firework very cool

Springtrap however does not becuase anything that goes boom gives him flashbacks to when the springlocks snappped back in the saferoom all those years ago...

Is a expert on cooking with a barbecue

Has a lot of knowledge on sport related stuff from all over the world

Hates the cold

However he doesn’t hate Frostbear and feels bad for him becuase of Shamrock Freddy’s constant bullying

Has a lot of extras clothes and extra accessories that correspond with the traditions of the customer(s) that ordered a vist from him

For instance, he may be all decked out for 4th of July one year, and the next you’ll see a bear ready for the beach and so fourth.

Constantly switching his attire for each visit does get a little annoying, but for him, making people happy in the end makes it worth all the hassle.

VR Toy Freddy

Is a completely different entity than regular Toy Freddy

Is the textbook definition of absolute gamer chad

Playing video games takes first priority for him

Recently he’s been playing the newest instalment in the fnamh’s (Five Nights At Mr Hug’s) series

He’s quite clumsy and bumps into other animatronics or common house things likes selves on a daily basis

But on the rare chance he’s not using his headset he’s usually making absurd theorys on what’s going on with the lore in the new Vr game

His main theory is that that this new strange crate looking character escaped from dumper purgatory from the previous game in the series and placed themselves into the in universe VR game.

Shamrock Freddy question why he’s still invested in that series though. As he states, the original trilogy is the best and that it all went downhill once that weird gumball machine used paper plates as a skin suit.

Whenever He or anyone else for that matter says something along the lines of that, VR Toy Freddy always goes into essay long arguments for why he’s wrong. He’s very quick to defend his favourite franchise

Jokes that he’s The Man Behind The Slaugher unironically even when the meme has died ( *In this universe the man behind the slaughter meme exists because of the Fnaf 1 news paper clippings, along with the fact that Springtrap is a well known entity thanks to HW, and the Fazbear Funtime service.*

Chocolate Bonnie

Nicknames are Choco Bonnie, and unfortunately as immature as it, Poop Bonnie

He’s made of real actual chocolate

Once somebody’s dog took a big bite out of his bottom right stomach area that simply couldn’t be repaired. The dog took 87 bites out of him btw

That’s why every single copy of the Chocolate Bonnie model scanned in after that day has that big and distracting hole

His three button and botie are mint candy flavoured

Real Easter eggs are hidden inside his stomach cavity and are placed near his endo parts

Though he’s more appropriate for Easter time, sometime he’s advertised for the Halloween season for that trick or treat goodness

Similar to Bon-Bon and Funtime Freddy , Easter and Chocolate Bonnie are a two in one package.

Given the surprising popularity of the Funtime Service, (*in universe*) a merch store has being set up to only spread word of their brand but to bring these beloved characters in the pop culture consensus again, and Chocolate Bonnie gets a bunch of merch

Whether it be a coffee mug,a shirt, or the type of chocolate bunny you’ll see in those craft stores, Cholocate Bonnie has it all.

Easter Bonnie

Is very dramatic and has a showman like personality. (Similar to Funtime Foxy in UCN)

His Easter egg pattern on his stomach area is actually drawn with crayons and the circles are get plain circle shaped stickers you would find at the your local dollar store. Goes to show that the Fazbear Funtime Service sticks to the roots of Fazbear Entertainment, being really cheep

How Easter and Chocolate Bonnie entertain customers is that Easter Bonnie usually has a “dramatic” retelling of the Easter bunny fairytale while Chocolate Bonnie’s the food, customers can eat while enjoying the play

He’s quite athletic

The “Happy Easter” tag on the top of his ear isn’t actually a intentional design choice

Easter Bonnie just stole it from a random candy store nearby

Some confuse him as a winter themed Bonnie covered in snow due to his mainly white colour palette. Considering that Freddy Frostbear’s a thing that isn’t that much of a stretch

Can perfectly imitate any of the other animatronic’s voices. It honestly shocks animatronics like Springtrap or Foxy with how well Easter Bonnie can capture this respective accents to a tee

He prefers to hop like a actual bunny than walking normally

Loves decorating Easter eggs.

Toxic Springtrap

All that purple goo is actually just fungi infected with some of that classic remnant

Due to his frightening nature he’s only available during Halloween time

However despite his looks he’s actually quite kind at heart. Much more than regular Springtrap that’s for sure

Is actually scared of the dark

He likes playing chess

Doesn’t like the fact that he’s advertised as something to be feared

Usually hangs around with 8-Bit Baby the most and the two usually play board games all day

Although like everyone else he feels some sort of discomfort whenever he’s shocked, the pain is really minor for him compared to other animatronics

Given that he’s only desired during the month of spooks, for the rest of the year, he’s left alone at the factory where all the animatronics are constructed and duplicated in the first place

Due to this he’s got a pleta of abandonment isssues

System Error Toy Bonnie

His head, body and limbs can be detached and put back together very easily

That’s how he entertains customers in fact. He’s basically a animatronic sized construction set, similar to Mangle

Their eyes glow bright orange in darkness

Is able to phaze through physical objects

Due to some people complaining about regular Toy Bonnie’s voicebox, the team chose to implant stock computer sound effects into System Error Toy Bonnie’s voicebox rather than actual dialogue.

Knows your WiFi password

Is taller than regular Toy Bonnie

The system error phrase near his stomach area gets brighter amd brighter whenever his costume shell is damaged

Static electricity flows through him from time to time. So it recommend that whenever a customer should wear gloves and other appropriate safety equipment when interacting with the animatronic

Balloon Boy always tries to get the static electricity balloon trick to work, but it never seems to work. System Error Toy Bonnie could really care less about this ordeal though

Highscore Toy Chica

Loves playing video games

But unlike Vr Toy Freddy, Her life doesn’t focus on it 24/7

She likes playing a variety of games too. virtual games, handheld games, games on consoles, board games, etc

Is very supportive

Knows what emojis are

Considering that she’s meant to be hip with the kids, she knows a lot about current gaming and fandom culture in general

Is a pretty good speed runner when it comes to video games

Although it doesn’t happen often she can get quite serious when it comes to gaming. You can tell when she’s just playing for fun or not if her endoskeleton eyes and grey are exposed

is indifferent to the term “Gamer Girl”

Hates games where you can’t skip the cutscenes

Radioactive Foxy

A random model of Foxy accidentally found his way into a power plant and eventually got covered in radioactive goo

The higher ups working for the Fazbear Funtime service thought that it would be a shame to throw out a perfectly good plush suit and endo. So after some strange testing involving remnant they just rebranded this as a completely new skin.

Green radioactive material drips over his body all all times

His hook is twice as big as regular Foxy’s. Probably due to the combination of experimenting with both remnant and toxic radioactive goo

Has no eyebrows due to the constant radioactive energy

Thanks to Radioactive Foxy’s transparent look, this was the first time any of the customers got a real good look on the inerworkings on how a endo properly fits into a plush suit.

Is on the hunt for and wants to consume more radioactive energy

Can transform into a more liquid based form

He’s slower than regular foxy but sill runs at a moderately fast pace

One of the more aggressive animatronics in the service alongside the likes of regular Springtrap and Frostbear

8-Bit Baby

Similar to Highscore Toy Chica, she’s meant to be marketed to the gaming crowd.

Specifically those who enjoy old school videogames

Can despense real cupcakes for eating pleasure

Has a extra sprinkler perfect for ice cream decorating

Her fan operates correctly and henceforth can be used for cooling or drying needs

Her microphone is preprogrammed with chiptune styled music

Has become many people’s favourite animatronic and has been in high demand ever since they were first brought to the service due to their uniqueness

Moves at a snail’s pace

Loves playing board games with Toxic Springtrap.

Regualr Circus Baby finds her 8 bit version adorable

#finally it's done #also pls don’t kill me for including Firework Freddy #fnaf #fnaf ar #fnaf ar special delivery #fnaf headcanons #shamrock freddy #firework freddy #vr toy freddy #chocolate bonnie #easter bonnie #toxic springtrap #system error toy bonnie #highscore toy chica #radioactive foxy #8 bit baby #my art uwu #long post

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fairydust-stuff · 4 years

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Wendy Darling Embodiment of Motherhood

Here’s the thing ,I have never been a big fan of Wendy Darling from JM Barrie’s classic novel Peter Pan. Not only is she a cocktail of every bad stereotype about Victorian women casually thrown into a blender to make the ultimate Grimm’s fairy tale heroines are more bad ass then you smoothie. But Wendy is just straight up the most boring character in Peter Pan. That being said she does play a very important role in Peter Pan. Also it’s gotten the point where I’m a bit tired of seeing this idea that the Never land ladies have nothing to offer. If we don’t change everything about them or let’s just leave them out entirely trend via Hollywood. Seriously when is the last time Tink got more than a cameo and I’m not talking about the sugary princess clone Disney created from her mutilated body. Anyway I want to take a look Wendy Darling how she works, how she doesn’t work what she embodies and how she’s been portrayed in various adaptations.

First let’s take a look at some themes. Peter pan is at its core a coming of age story about accepting the inevitability of growing up. However Wendy as a point of view character is kind of an odd choice for this theme. In the original novel Wendy brings a flower to her mother who declares “Why can’t you stay like this” Then the narrator proceeds to talk about how Wendy knew she must grow up. So we already have a character who accepts the fact she must grow up on page one. In fact Wendy doesn’t run away to Never land as much as take a holiday, and to be fair John and Michel suffer from the same problem. Honestly I think the closest thing we get to a character arch in the novel is George Darling who is a seriously underrated character in my opinion. So Wendy just never struggles with growing up. However another theme of Peter Pan is motherhood and oh boy does Wendy fit into that.

“She used to come to me in my and I’d say pretty mother, now she has come and I’ve shot her” Tootles laments after thinking he shot and killed Wendy. Even Hook want to take Wendy to be the mothers of himself and his crew in typical pirate fashion coveting what Peter Pan and the lost boys have Wendy becomes a treasure for them to steal. Smee when carrying Wendy even promises “I’ll save you if you promise to only be my Mother” Every boy and man child in Never land craves a mother and want Wendy to fill the position. Wendy taking on the role turns her into a kind of ideal in the eyes of everyone in Never land even her own brothers get in on the treating her as the perfect mom.

In fact Wendy only gets to be a little girl in the narrative when Hook offers his hand to her and she takes it and only because the narrative felt the need to defend her submission to her own capture. But looking back that may very well be the point when you look at Wendy and Peter’s relationship without the shipping googles it’s actually quite interesting. You’ve got two pre teen’s on two different wave lengths. Wendy states in the novel “Peter what are true feelings towards me?” and is displeased with Peter’s answer “That of a devoted son” this seems up their relationship perfectly. Wendy uses the role of mother to try to basically become Peter’s wife something which he is deeply uncomfortable with needing constant reassurance that playing an adult couple is “ Only make believe” now whether or not Peter is flat out not interested or scared of his own feelings is up for debate. I personally lean toward the former because Peter is constantly surrounded by busty topless mermaids who like to flirt with him. So if he hasn’t had his sexual awakening yet it’s not happening ever, but the point is Peter uses the reaffirmation of Wendy as Mother to keep her at a distance. When Wendy returns home Miss Darlings offers to adopt Peter which he refuses. This highlights the fact when given the chance to have an actual mother he doesn’t want one.

Wendy is a reflection of Peter’s warped relationship with motherhood. He confesses to Wendy that he did at one point did return to his mother only to find the window barred and “There was another little boy sleeping in my bed!” It could be argued Peter’s desire to stay a little boy forever actually steam from the fear of abandonment and being replaced. This shapes Peter’s relationship with Wendy in sense he wants a mother he can actually control. One who never makes him feels too grown up or who challenges him or his choices in a meaningful way. This shows that motherhood is important and that without a proper mom boys will never truly grow into men.

Wendy plays a similar role to the lost boys only she actually ends up helping them. While the lost boys clearly already have mommy craving’s Wendy gives them a taste of what having a mom is actually like or at least what an ideal mom from a Victorian upper middle class family structure would be like. So when Wendy wants to go home the lost boys who getting a taste of what their missing decides to go with her. Where they get adopted into the Darling Family and grow into respectable members of society who all get boring office jobs in the prolog which completely contrast their colorful energetic personalities, moving on. Wendy acts as kind of encouraging benevolent guide for the lost boys and Peter her inevitable goal being to encourage to move beyond the superficial trappings of childhood and take a step forward into adulthood. Peter is the failure, deficient as the novel itself states but the lost boys are a triumph of the power of proper maternal nurturing.

Wendy Darling has appeared in various adaptations and Spin offs though I’m mostly going to focus on Movies and TV because most of the Peter Pan book retellings where Wendy plays a key role just do not fill me with any positive feelings. And I want to mostly focus on the good today with some casual snark thrown in.

So let’s start with Wendy from the 2003 Peter Pan Live Action adaptation. I love this version it makes changes from the novel while still paying homage by using actual lines from the book. Though I have very mixed feelings about 2003 Wendy.

The movie heavily leans into the annoying I’m not like other girls trope. Here Victorian lady Wendy turns fairy tales into gore fests, and has an interest in sword play and pirates. I’m not saying girls from that era can’t have those interests but it just feels like their Wendy is the product of listening to too many focus groups not to mention she learns to be an expert sword fighter who can go toe to toe with adults after five seconds with Peter. And what is with the sudden unexplained blood thirst? Where did that come from?

Though I do like how the film unlike the novel actually gave Wendy an arch. Wendy’s aunt is mortified at her niece’s interest in becoming a novelist who travels the world. She insists Wendy’s parents separate Wendy from her brothers and allow her to tutor, Wendy to teach her how to be a proper lady. They also have a school teacher shame Wendy for drawing a picture of Peter flying above her bed. This seems to be subtext for the Victorian shaming of sexual expression from girls as dirty and shameful. This actually makes Wendy feel like her life is changing way too fast and it scares her. Since she is twelve and her family is already talking about marriage prospects. While the scene where Peter and her meet is pretty much played like in the novel. There’s the added moment of Peter whispering in Wendy’s ear “ Forget them Wendy Forget them all come with me and we’ll never ever have to think about grown up things again” which unlike the novel frames Wendy as running away from growing up.

Then she develops a crush on Peter Pan and this being Hollywood they go with the scared of his own feeling interpretation. I guess her whining and screaming his name for a day was just too sexy to resist. Wendy contemplates joining Hook’s crew because when your crush rejects you validation by pirate man children is good salve for your wounds. But then realizes she can’t remember her mother and much like the novel becomes scared that her and her brothers have forgotten their parents. Then they all get kidnapped by the pirates and Hook and Peter have a show down which is way better than the novel because here Hook attacks Peter’s abandonment issues and actually brings him to his knees. But then Wendy kisses Peter and he gains the strength to defeat Hook. Basically the implication is Wendy realizes growing up is ok because romantic love is a thing. Hey, I didn’t say it was a great arch but it’s more than the novel gave her or anyone. I’m not a huge fan of this Wendy depiction but I’ve got to take my hat off to the writers for at least giving Wendy a coming of age narrative.

Disney’s classic Peter Pan pulled a similar move taking the focus from Peter and putting it entirely on Wendy. The implications at the end imply that Wendy’s adventure was all a dream and that Tinker bell and Tiger Lilly were reflections of her own manifesting sexuality. Peter Pan her desire not to grow up and Hook I’m going to guess that he was her daddy issues.

I actually think Walt did Wendy a solid in her characterization. This is one of the few Wendy’s were her concern for her brothers and the lost boys don’t feel tacked on. Since most adaptations do very little to build Wendy’s dynamic with the other kids. Here it’s in every face wipe and tearful good bye and every “Do be careful” thrown over Wendy’s shoulder.

Also the Disney movie does a one eighty from everyone in Neverland worshiping her to Neverland treating her rather badly. It takes Wendy’s annoyance from called her squaw from the Novel and has the Indians bully her into fetching firewood instead of joining the celebrations. Also the mermaids not only try to drown her but Peter thinks is all a big joke. Disney’s Wendy constantly stands up for herself but often gets brushed off or forced to walk the plank. In this version you can one hundred percent understand why Wendy is so done with this place and ready to grow up. Here the reality of what it’s like to experience everyone acting like a self-centered child is here on full display.

Also Disney’s Wendy is not perfect she gets angry and loses her temper attacking mermaids or yelling at Indians. She gets jealous of Tiger Lilly being all over Peter and is sour towards him. Wendy is dreamy eyed, and polite but this version of her also doesn’t take anyone’s crap and will let you know if you’ve crossed a line or if you’re flat out awful. But she’s still pleads with Peter on her attempted murder’s behalf. Wendy also reminds Peter that Tiger Lilly is drowning when he gets caught up in celebrating his cleverness. She still makes sure she can say goodbye to her brothers and the lost boys before Hook kills her. Even on her worst day Disney’s Wendy is a kind person even when those around her are less so.

But my favorite portrayal of Wendy has got to be from the 90’s classic “Peter Pan and the Pirates” TV series which aired on Fox was about one season then got cancelled. While it doesn’t really focus on Wendy a whole lot since its more concerned with the relationship between Peter Pan his lost boys and Hook’s crew.

She still has a pretty important role. Wendy often serves as a voice of reason to the group which doesn’t go against her original role in the novel since she takes a cake that’s been left out all night away from the lost boys. Which does present her as the one with the most common sense but the show lets Wendy tell Peter this is a bad idea way more often than the book and blow up at him after he does the stupid thing every one told him not to do. Also Wendy gets to be more of a moral center lecturing Peter for stealing the picture of Hook’s mother in the episode “Hooks mother” and encouraging him to return it and even getting Peter to take care of Hook after he’s injured. This is in a positive change in my opinion because it actually expands on Wendy’s role as a guide to adult hood. Here Wendy Darling encourages a kind of good behavior she helps build moral character in her boys. Wendy has strong ideals and this adaptation actually has her stand by her principals for better or worse. This not only gives her more of a central role in the story but also gives her more chances to be active. Yay character agency!

Also this version of Wendy was the first to have a bit of an interesting relationship with Hook. (Who is voiced by Tim curry and does an excellent job.) While the writers got rid of the almost pedophilic undertones of Hook wanting to keep Wendy from the novel and the “My beauty” pet name. Thank god for that even in the novel i thought it was too much. There’s still a bit of a dynamic even if its way more innocent.

In the episode In Peter on Trial Wendy not only lands on the ship unharmed but reminds Hook executing Peter without a trial would not be proper form at all. She then hits Hook in the ego by declaring “Surely you don’t doubt your powers of debate against that of a mere girl” And not only gets a trial but manages to win even when the trial is rigged against them. Hook even congratulates her before proceeding to find his own loophole and kill Peter Pan anyway. The point is this suggests this Wendy has a bit of an insight into Hook maybe more so then Peter. She knows he’s obsessed with good form and has an ego that prides its self on being the smartest person in the room.

This cuts both ways while Wendy is capable of manipulating Hook, he also consistently manipulates Wendy by offering his word as a gentlemen when he intends to break it as a pirate. This dynamic highlights Wendy’s flaw of trusting dangerous people and allowing them to hurt her friends. Hook has picked up that she trusts or wants to trust him. In this version Hook actually treats Wendy as opponent vs the usual she belongs to Peter and I want to steal her like in most adaptations. Also despite Hook being terrifying Wendy has no problem being all “There’s no need to get cranky Captain” and I kind of love how comfortable she is with the guy despite him being an enemy.

This proves Wendy doesn’t have to be a sword wielding “Who are you to call me girlie” action girl to be a good character. She can be flawed but still remain a good person and giving her a spine is always appreciated.

Wendy Darling is at her core a guide into adulthood with a strong moral character and a voice of reason who is used to shine a light on how important motherhood is since the result of mothers abandoning or neglecting their children shape the Peter’s of the world. This makes her important to the overall story and themes of Peter Pan.

#wendy darling #wendy darling appreciation #peter pan disney #Peter Pan 2003 #Peter Pan and the Pirates

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specialpatientedna · 4 years

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This isn’t canon to my RP blog, but I thought I’d share a dark fanfic AU I’ve been working on for a retelling of Edna & Harvey: The Breakout. NOTE: this is only the first chapter and it’s not finished yet.

Outside, two children were playing. One, a shy and mostly quiet boy who often read books, kept a butterfly collection, collected stamps, but most of all, loved to follow the rules and do as he was told. The other was a girl no more than eight years old, who on the other hand, seemed to have a disdain for authority and rules, often finding ways to stir up mischief for the day. She played with firecrackers, smashed up her toys, tinkered with sharp objects, skipped school, blew up frogs in her backyard she’d catch, wandered abandoned buildings late at night while her father slept, but what really fascinated her, was fire.

The young girl loved to watch the flames dance around and crackle, it’s light so beautiful, bright, and hypnotic, consuming whatever it burned, the flames so full of life. She loved to burn wood, books, insects, toenail clippings, blades of grass, action figures, broken chair legs, leaves, trash cans, jars of old marmalade, broken old toys, scraps of clothing, marbles, bushes, almost anything within her reach. The girl wasn’t sure why or how she came to have this morbid fascination with fire, she just knew it was always there.

And so were those ugly and impulsive urges buried deep inside the back of her head that would worm it’s way up, turning into intrusive thoughts.

“Children! Dinner is ready!” a voice called from inside the house.

“Awww! But it’s too early dad!” the girl whined.

And she was just about to win at a game of marbles too. The boy stood up from the ground, picked up his bag of marbles, and ran up ahead, playfully laughing.

“Race you first!”

The girl brushed stray blades of grass and dirt from her skirt, picked up her half of the marbles that were left on the ground, grabbed her blue ragdoll rabbit she called Harvey, and began walking up the porch towards the backdoor.

“Oh boy!, oh boy!, oh boy! I can’t wait for the dessert Mattis will serve! All the cake! All the ice cream! And cookies! Yummy! Heehee!” an unusual and hyperactive voice giggled.

The girl’s violet eyes gazed at her ragdoll. There it was again, the voice that spoke through her rabbit. She smiled and hugged it close to her chest, it’s warm terrycloth feeling comforting. As a small child she always talked with her ragdoll rabbit Harvey, confiding in it whenever she needed to, seeking comfort when her father was busy working late night shifts again. One day when she was five years old, she was surprised to find her ragdoll had spoken back, greeting her cheerfully as if they had always known each other. The young girl felt she and Harvey were destined to be great friends, and they had remained close friends ever since. Laughing, playing, talking to one another, stirring up mischief together, cracking jokes, finding amusing ways to make her father swear, and, lighting fires.

The young girl opened the sliding glass door and stepped inside for dinner, gently shutting it closed behind her. The girl’s father, Mattis, had prepared an early dinner to welcome the boy and his father, Marcel, in their neighborhood, having just recently moved in. The girl took her seat, served her plate of food, and began to dig into her potato salad and sausage. Mattis and Marcel were busily blabbing about boring grown up topics the girl couldn’t be bothered to listen to, and the young boy was eagerly eating his sausages. The girl started to feel uneasy with a strange feeling in her gut, and a bizarre sense of deja vu.

“Hey! Edna! Alfred’s pretty boring, huh?” Harvey snickered as he sat in the young girl’s lap. “Shhh!” Edna shushed the ragdoll rabbit, glaring at him.

“Be quiet Harv, you know dad can’t see us talking, he’ll think I’m a loon.” “Sorry Edna...” Harvey apologized.

Alfred, Marcel, and Mattis looked up from their meal and stared at Edna with concern. Edna awkwardly stared back before her eyes slowly gazed over to her dinner plate again and she resumed eating her meal.

She felt like she was going to be sick.

Alfred, Marcel and Mattis went back to chatting away, but Edna could barely touch her food. She tried to listen in on the parent’s conversation but she couldn’t focus well. Their voices felt so distant, so far away.

“Hehehe! Edna!, Edna!, Edna! Look at this!” Harvey exclaimed in twisted delight.

Edna froze in her seat, but felt her arm slowly raise up over her head. When did she hold a glass of water? She didn’t remember grabbing it. Edna struggled to put it down, trying not to spill it all over Alfred.

“Harvey! PLEASE!” Edna angrily shouted, but it was too late.

It happened so fast. Her hand, as if being puppeted, attempted to pour the water all over Alfred, but spilled it all over her head and clothes instead. Everyone was now staring at her blankly.

“Is your daughter….always so maladjusted?” Dr. Marcel whispered.

“I’m so sorry for her behavior Dr. Marcel. Edna, go to your room.” Mattis scolded her sternly.

“But it wasn’t my fault!” Edna protested.

“Edna, I’m sorry, but I have to do this.”

Mattis reached in a cabinet, grabbing a bottle of prescription medicine. The label was marked as Chlorpromazine, for Edna Konrad.

Edna felt so humiliated, angry, and scared all at once as she tried hard to fight it, crying, shouting, struggling in her father’s tight grip as he grabbed her by the arm, forcing her to take her medicine before sending her off to her room. And then the world was spinning, pulling her away from consciousness.

She woke up in a cold sweat as her eyes opened in darkness. Gently, she pulled a thin white sheet off her and sat up. Where was she? What did these nightmares mean? Why was she in a locked bedroom in a hospital bed?

She wearily rubbed her eyes. Everything felt so confusing and disorienting. She moved her hand and felt around her bed before feeling a familiar soft material. Touching it, she picked it up, who turned out to be her ragdoll rabbit. At least she still had Harvey to get her through these awful nights. Edna softly stroked his blue terrycloth fur while humming to herself before she lied down in bed covering herself with her thin sheet, shifted into a comfortable position, and went back to sleep.

***********

Edna awoke at 5 AM the next morning to a needle rudely stuck in her arm as the nurse began drawing blood and taking samples, looking over test sheets and paperwork on her clipboard. Edna hadn’t slept well the night before and had dark circles under her eyes, her long violet hair an even bigger mess more than usual, those nightmares and odd visions plaguing her and still fresh on her mind. The nurse smiled sweetly, a genuine smile and turned to face her.

“Good morning Edna, how are you feeling today?” nurse Gretchen asked kindly.

Edna sat up in bed, clutching Harvey by the ears and hugged her knees. She didn’t look up at the nurse, but mumbled something the nurse couldn’t hear.

“It’s alright dear, we all have our bad days.” nurse Gretchen gently told Edna, soothing her like a mother would to her child.

Edna kept hugging her knees, rocking in her bed quietly, but turning to face the nurse, would slowly glance up at Gretchen now and then with one eye, still rocking herself holding on to Harvey with a tight grip. When she was finished getting Edna’s blood sample, nurse Gretchen cleaned and bandaged the wound, tending to it carefully. It reminded Edna of when she was a child and she scraped her knee after a kid pushed her at the playground, her mother Helene patching it up. The memory always felt comforting even though her mother vanished from her and Mattis’s life years ago when she was just five years old. Gretchen leaned against the wall and sighed.

“You know, I can’t even begin to imagine how you really feel. Losing your parents like that.. It must have been so awful for you, and so young. Eight years old..” the nurse murmured.

Edna stopped rocking. Still she spoke nothing, but she studied the nurse carefully with her eyes, moving her long violet locks of hair out of her face. She wanted to speak up, to say something, but she couldn’t find it in her to. Nurse Gretchen moved away from the wall and placed a hand on Edna’s head, gently rubbing the girl in comfort like she was her own daughter, if she had one.

Changing the subject to something more lighter, Gretchen said “Dr. Marcel will be seeing you in two hours, so try and get ready, okay? He’ll be taking you and the other patients to the cafeteria for breakfast. It’s free choice day, I know how much you like that. I’ll be on my way now dearie.”

Nurse Gretchen gathered her medical equipment and strolled out the room, shutting the door behind her, and Edna heard the lock click.

If anyone looked at her right now, they’d see Edna smiled for the first time in years.

***********

#✂️out of sanity (ooc post)#edna bricht aus #edna & harvey #edna and harvey

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dxxtruction · 4 years

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eps2.2_init1.asec

Mr.Robot: Season 2 Episode 4

break-down / character analysis / head canons

(Spoilers obviously, but contains stuff up through end of season 4)

A: first scene

I love this scene a lot so I wrote a lot.

(The Memorial Day situation)

Elliot had been pen-testing, doing white-hat hacking for some wall-street gig. (Timeline= ?-May 2014)

He was on some type of project where he needed to hack until it was un-hackable. (Seemed dedicated to his job there)

Elliot is court ordered into anger management with a shrink (Krista) after being fired for destroying the servers. Hs he claims he was locked in there and fell asleep then woke up in a destroyed room. (I still suspect this retelling to be halfway unreliable even though it’s how it’s told at least twice in the show.)

This happened Memorial Day weekend. - night or around 5pm presumably - people wanted to go clubbing etc. and Elliot did not. They couldn’t leave because Elliot was working. (He didn’t care about them enough to let them go, or was just dedicated to his job you choose.)

2. (Job offering)

Elliot is offered to work at all-safe by Angela around this time (Halloween 2014) but it’s been months since he had been working so what was he doing?

A bunch of Grey-hat hacks to get shady people arrested? Seems he may have just finished one when Darlene arrived.

He sees some potential in accepting, because it a Trojan horse (both what you think it is and slang for a backdoor into a server network).

He’s been thinking about it, though we don’t know how long he’s been sitting on this offer. “the right access the right malware.” His plan is to take down Evil Corp (It’s the first time he’s voiced this, and Darlene doesn’t take him entirely serious at first.)

3. (Darlene and Elliot)

Darlene comes on halloween, she seems bothered by something that may have happened that night (if my timeline is right it could be she had a fight with Cisco because they should’ve still been together then) whatever it is Darlene feels she needs Elliots company that night.

This is the first mention of init-1 the code between her and Elliot. He tries to excuse himself when Darlene first answers, with an excuse he’s going out. Darlene picks up that this is half-assed, showing us that despite her being gone she knows her brother well. (It’s little things like these that give hints as to the hosts habits and how much they overlap with MM’s)

“Great Darlene, haven’t seen you in a long time either. I’d love to hang out.” Judging by the fact Elliot is just now telling Darlene he’s been fired we can assume the extent of there communication is pretty much zilch. Darlene has been away from the city for some time, but I’m not sure its ever mentioned how long.

Per tradition, they’re smoking weed while watching the careful massacre of the bourgeoise (1984). (Darlene is a talkative/hungry type of high and Elliot just chills... and maybe has deep philosophical conversations) This movie carries a lot of importance because it becomes symbolic of F-Society. It starts out with the masked man killing the bourgeoisie kids at a new years eve party, but I do wonder if thats the entire plot or not.

Darlene says several things about it:

(A) The movie was made to disprove meritocracy. (showing the separation of class through the absurd ways in which the characters act.)

(B) it was the source of their psychological dysfunction. (Probably because it’s x-rated, I think this line should only be taken as a joke)

In the dream sequence later in the episode Tyrell and Joanna are wearing similar outfits to the brother and sister in the movie (hinting how Elliot probably sees them)

We get clarification on Darlene having Panic attacks, this is something that has come up before. Elliot shows genuine concern for her mental well-being.

“Since when did pretending everything is okay become the all mighty norm?” *proceeds to act like that at the beginning of season 2*

Unlike Elliot, Darlene has a digital social life. Has instagram, and orders off postmates probably lives a normal life of a 23 year old who happens to be really smart and good at stuff. I definitely think all that go thrown in the trash the second f-society became more than just a what-if. By the beginning of season 1 she’s just as off the grid as Elliot is. (But like I just wanna see Darlene live her life again dammit.)

Sidenote: I wonder who this one is. Part of me wants to say this is Elliot the host, but I have my suspicions MM took over after Memorial Day, (or at the least started to front more often…). Though it does leave me asking why there are sudden amnesia barriers in the time leading up to 5/9. Fragment Krista says MM found it important to start messing with Elliots memories and his past and inadvertently this meant forgetting his sister? Was it a subconscious choice? I can’t confirm, but I still do wonder how much of Elliot we really see in flashbacks and how much of it is MM.

4. (“Do you talk to mom?”)

Dialogue: “No. You?” (“Fuck no, she still shits on dad every time I talk to her… I wish I remembered him better.”)

I don’t have a note really, but this moment is fairly awkward given what we know about Ed—d. Not sure how I read Elliot’s face here, but I think he’s probably on the same page as her because-

Elliot has kept the Mr.Robot jacket.

I believe this indicates the host and MM I think are (were) both protected from knowing about what their father did otherwise that shit would be trash. I wonder Does host Elliot also have the view of his father as his only friend? Anyway I definitely see this as a trigger for Robot, like, thats his clothes for one and ed—d is sort of the trauma he holds.

A switch definitely occurs once the mask is on. There’s an awkwardness where Darlene loses her laughter: does she know exactly what his disorder is? I think at the very least she suspects and picks up on these things. She knows that Elliot is forgetful and experiences moments of derealization because she’s dealt with those moments with him. They are siblings after all, and I think this scene is pretty much in here to hone that in.

Mr.Robot starts a whole speech about a plan to take down E-Corp. Elliot (in reference to everyone because I think this is a shared understanding) knows the hard part of this hack will be he fallout (“that’s the key, the follow through.”)

More indicators he’s been really thinking about this for a while (At the very least since Memorial Day so 6 months; at most since his dad got leukemia). He (Mr.Robot) works out that E-corp will try to come back from the hack and there needs to be a way to stop the from happening.

Destroy public confidence = destroy E-Corp (And this is what Darlene’s been shown doing this season so far)

He then takes off the mask and he’s gone quiet (dissociated?) Probably a switch back. (He looks at it in a way that makes me feel like he doesn’t remember putting it on.)

End scene.

B: Darlene’s visit

“The only way to patch a vulnerability is by exposing it first. The flip side is exposing the vulnerability leaves you open for an exploit.” (I believe this line tells us this episodes logic)

(Plan discussion.)

The plan involves losing confidence in e-corp and Elliot has lost confidence in the plan. (though we are aware phase 2 isn’t necessarily just about losing public confidence, Elliot is later shown to not want this either). He sees it as too dangerous to continue on with, and he feels guilty about it given how Gideon was killed, he doesn’t want more people to die.

However, I feel as if he probably already saw into all the vulnerabilities (because he’s like that). Already figuring they could be exposed (hence danger). He sees the best option would be to quit while they can, but Darlene is refusing.

“What did you guys think was going to happen exactly?” - Darlene referring to Elliot as plural. (We love to see it)

Elliot says it wasn’t him who said everything. (Clarification that a switch did happen in scene 1.)

2. (“This is what she does”)

What does darlene do?

Likely: When she wants something but doesn’t give full honesty about it and doesn’t tell Elliot everything. In other words Darlene keeps secrets, and hides the important bothersome details. She sort of beats around the bush. (She does something like this in scene 1 she needs Elliots company but won’t talk about or say why then avoids confrontation of her mental health)

She’s doing it here not so much for her own comfort but the safety of her brother, because she knows he has vulnerabilities, and can be triggered and emotionally unstable. She doesn’t want to upset him because she needs him to help her and he can’t do that in an unstable state.

C: Chess

1. (Meeting with Ray to play chess)

Chess isn’t really the focus here; Ray picks up on a lot of conflict happening internally, and as an exploit to get Elliot to trust him gives the chess board over.

We see how guilt is burdening Elliot, and he is considering owning up to everything he did. Even mentions how it could stop Darlene from doing “crazy shit”. He doesn’t want to lose her either; or lose any more people for that matter. Losing people was not a part of saving the world he signed up for. There’s also guilt in general because of 5/9 because things are turning out bad.

I’m fairly convinced Mr.Robot is incapable of feeling guilt, or is just hiding it behind the 10 layers of clothes. (Though I guess he’s never met Gideon so why should he care?). Anyway he is consistently focused on seeing everything through no matter the costs.

I just find Mr.Robot coming in and saying he’d swan dive off a building for saying anything pretty funny (don’t ask)

He exaggerates a lot of the time but honestly sometimes he is dead serious about putting the body in pain or in life and death scenarios and so he can be fairly destructive so it’s hard to tell if he is joking, but hey MM (and to my hc host) does hard drugs, so...

2. (A game to end all games between us)

“Winner takes all.” (“Of what?”) “Us.”

(Mr.Robot really do be like “I’mma kill you or myself” Bitch I do not think..)

Robot says Elliot “will be absent from knowing. Losing time forever. A deep black void.” Basically he’s gonna throw him in a pit. And honestly it sounds confident, like he probably feels he can take full control since he’s been around the longest along with the core. (But we know he wouldn’t do it even if he could, the guy has a soft spot. Anyway this is like the IDK what number of times Robot be doing a loop around to get a point across to Elliot. He do be playing the long game and I think secretly he loves a good scheme.) (This is what Mr.Robot does.)

Elliot gets visited by Krista in prison and has told her about the game. (Judging by the fact they meet in her ‘office’ and not in the “Kitchen table” setting we can assume they’re allowed to meet in a private location.) (Edit: disregard this bit I forgot about the reveal that he’d just imagining it on like two separate layers to feel safe enough to speak)

“Krista’s wrong annihilation is always the answer” (He’s just as bad honestly, Krista teach this boy constructive ways). He sees annihilation as self improvement, getting rid of parts of yourself that are ugly or unwanted. We create our identity around desire, and that means destroying parts that are undesirable so all thats left is practically a mask of who we are. (I think the tie into Whiterose through this spill about annihilation is a bit cheap but like I understand the choice) Anyhow Elliot’s pretty much agreeing to a western showdown and has no idea it’s all a rouse so Robot can have his point.

4. The chess match

Ed—d apparently taught Elliot his first ways to code through teaching him computer chess. He talks like he really understands all the logic of chess which makes me think he was letting Ray win before.

Mr.Robot definitely feels a bit uncomfortable with being associated with him just a hint in his voice.

Ultimately they find out neither of them can either win or lose but Mr.Robot knew all along that would happen.

“Fighting for the future we want, it isn’t about playing chess is about what we do out there with them.” (peaking out of his ten layers to show he cares about the outside world, while also expressing how they need to get out of prison.)

“I want to be here Elliot, with you.” (God my heart.)

D: Darlene and Cisco’s hook up

Darlene is very paranoid while walking around, she isn’t sure if F-society really are being offed. However in front of F-society she tries to comfort their suspicions.

Cisco comes to Darlene to warn her about getting killed by DA… but he’s the one who ultimately gets offed. (Poetic cinema)

We learn Darlene’s the type to get upset and defiantly end up having sex in the bathroom of a shady dive bar with her on and off again boyfriend (also Cisco why didn’t you pull out before talking about Dark Army again, like dude lol.)

This is definitely the point they start getting back together.

There a message in gold written on the wall that reads “There's an unequal amount of good and bad in most things. The trick is to figure out the ratio and act accordingly. Stay frosty all. Peace.” - its from this tweet: x

Operation Berenstain is first mentioned. I’m in agreement the name references the popular conspiracy about alternate timelines.

E: Leon lays it down

Leon asks Elliot if he wants to even be here, tells him he “has to dream in order to find out the future he’s fighting for.” (My initial though is I’m not sure if this means here as in prison or here as in alive, sorta feels like the latter)

“If you like it” (The future you envision) “then it’s beautiful, if it’s not then you might as well fade the fuck out right now.” (Hard) (definitely means the latter)

I appreciate Leon so much. “Existence could be beautiful or it could be ugly. But thats on you.” He’s really good for Elliot, really no bs, no loop arounds, he just tells it straight. And you know what? He listens to him because he actually goes to bed dreaming about it.

“What is the future? Leon says one needs to understand that before they’re ready to fight for their existence.”

This dream sequence is so impactful, Leon’s influence. I’m not gonna go in on the shots, however we do get to see a really honest view on how Elliot truly sees the people that have been a part of his life in a variety of subtle ways. We see a lot of what he desires or seeks is happiness for everyone around him.

“Will I reconnect for those I care for. Will I reunite with old friends long gone. See the ones I love find true happiness. Maybe this future includes people I never dreamed of getting close to. Even make amends with those I have unfairly wronged. A future that’s not so lonely. A future filled with friends and family. The world I’ve always wanted. And I’d like very much to fight for it.”

I bold texted that last bit because it really hits, and I think its what becomes the foundations for what Elliot ends up saying to Whiterose at the end. Not to pull a Darlene but this show is clearly trying to say how hard it is to find connection in a world of capitalist alienation.

When Leon sort of digs into Elliot and asks if he really does want to die. Elliot’s dream confirms, no, we find out Elliot actually wants to live in order to improve the future, and he wants connections to be there. It’s what he’s always wanted. (Yet he still does the end all match right after this sequence because he’s convinced he’ll win and get that future on his own. Both these boys are very stubborn.)

F: Do you remember the first command you ever taught me?

Init 1.

What Elliot taught Darlene when her computer kept crashing. She says this in scene one, and its what makes Elliot stop making excuses. The same thing happens here, Elliot has no choice but to help. Thats what the code between them means: Drop everything and help me.

What is it? Init 1 is a run level in linux which indicates a single-user/emergency mode. Streamlining the route to only the root, while disconnecting from the network or multitasker. Used for administrative tasks.

Elliot has to stop the FBI from owning f-society and the only way to do that is by using Ray’s computer. (fuck Ray btw). Just to make sure, he asks Darlene is he is really needed by her or if she wants Robot. I think he needed the reassurance that Darlene still cares (and of course she does).

The second part of the title is .Asec - android files preventing corruption from other programs. So the whole title translates to roughly; Help prevent corruption. And a nod to the way of doing it through hacking into the FBI android phone network. (These titles are genius and have so many layers)

G. Side stuff

1. The FBI have found Fun Society LLC through Dom. I love Dom but idk how I feel about her in these early episodes. She is a fairly good detective though. I think Romero’s character being linked to stealing power from the grid is a nod to the novel Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison. Ellison touches on social and intellectual issues faced by the African Americans in the early twentieth century. Also I noticed Dom’s supervisor is there and he’s already seen trying to sway the direction away from uncovering he truth.

2. On that note so is Angela. I think we’re intentionally supposed to be annoyed with her because she’s staying at E-Corp even though she knows she’s being manipulated.

“All of my dreams are coming true right now.” - as the bastard guys are being arrested. Not to say this slapped but it did.

We find out Whiterose and Price are in bed together on this thing and this has something to do with Angela and the plant negotiations in the lawsuit. On the phone Whiterose is fussy about moving her operation to the Congo quickly. (lets not try to reason how this plan of hers all works or what the hell it even is). Things are awkward knowing that Price is Angela’s dad, I can’t tell if he’s actually getting close because he wants to know his daughter or if its purely out of getting her around he and Whiterose’s fingers. (both? both.)

In any case I think Esmail sets up the Angela as a counter vulnerability within the main plot, as she’s being open to exploitation by remaining at E-Corp. (refer to the logic set-up)

3. I don’t care for Joanna’s appearance in this episode but she’s running out of money to pay of this guy who has information that could frame Tyrell for murder and is still seeing this guy she definitely hates or likes him but doesn’t love him. Complicated. She needs the severance package to pay this guy off. Tyrell is another vulnerability but he’s undercover.

H. Head canons I thought of while watching

If Elliot hadn’t opened the door when he did Darlene would’ve picked the locks.

Darlene’s go to is always some type of asian food.

The weed is Elliots but the Bowl is Darlenes.

We see coats on the wall hooks in Elliots room, but I think the likes the cold because its grounding so he usually leaves without one on.

When Robot is high (on weed) he just talks like nonstop.

Not a head canon really but I notice Elliot never uses the backrests in chairs. However Robot becomes the chair he is the chair.

Darlene stopped going to dance classes after the hack, I think Angela has also stopped going.

Leons favorite subjects are philosophy and history

#mr robot #eps2.2_init1.asec #as promised I made it look nice to post #I also added a bunch of stuff because I felt like it #This is not comprehensive by any means lol #if this doesn't appear in the tags ...

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