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yuellii · 5 months

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FLOWERS, ONE TO MY REMEMBRANCE.

scaramouche / gn reader, merry christmas @adiluv :)

“I’m called the Wanderer.”

He speaks these words with a lightened, innocent charm. A sparkling crinkle in his eyes so unadulterated and wholehearted. The Wanderer’s voice is like a new baby’s breath to this old, torn world.

And you—there’s electric in your heart, and a strum of curiosity stemming from your heartstrings to your brain. A smile so unknowing and hypnotic in the way it sends butterflies to his stomach in mere instances. In all the years he’s spent wandering the seven regions and the seven elements, he truly believe he has not felt love until this moment.

With your eyes so new and so kind upon him, oh, he might’ve truly found the purpose of the heavens within you.

“I’m called the Wanderer.”

He speaks these words with a curious type of stunned silence. He’s enchanted in a way, a feeling wherein he can feel his knees begin to crumble at the mere sight of the details of your face. The Wanderer feels weak, as if he’s falling in love at first sight.

“The Wanderer…” you ponder quietly.

He feels his cheeks flare up at your voice. His lips feel glued together once he hears you speak for the first time, completely taken aback from the hypnotic aura you radiate. By laws of nature, he feels like a moth to your flame in which he, as a wandering soul of old, feels he can truly find you in every universe.

“I’m called the Wanderer.”

A bitter taste resides on his tongue.

You turn to look at him, and he feels this uncanny sense of familiarity within the depths of your eyes. The soul in them: he suddenly feels as if he’s stared at it a million times before.

He’s thinking of crumbling away about now.

“The Wanderer…” The taste of his title on your tongue, the sound of your voice—all of it falls unbearably recognizable. He can feel his breath catch short within the cages of his lungs, however it is not one he desired. Somehow, he feels as if this improper breathing should’ve been soul-crushing in a way that was loving, and not the blatant fear that suddenly settles in the taut tightropes of his beating heart. “Have we…” you voice out, the sound of each word stealing more of his airflow away from his lifeline. “Have we met before?”

The rising intonation at the end of your sentence sends a shiver to his spine when he processes your words. He feels clammy, sweaty; but he’s made of wood—he shouldn’t sweat? He shouldn’t be feeling like this? But you were no evil, no… So he should not be filled with this sense of hesitant alarm.

“No…” says he, reluctantly so. “Not that I know of.” He attempts to say this gulping with confidence, however he fails in this aspect—in fact, he sounds as if he is nervous, speaking with shaky breaths. It was clear that even he himself did not believe his own words. No, not that I know of; and yet he felt like he’s known you for every previous life.

“That’s so odd,” you miss, finger quite innocently falling upon your bottom lip in ponderance. “I can swear I’ve seen you somewhere before, but I cannot currently recall…”

He coughed. “You must be mistaken.”

What originally drew him to you like a moth to a flame now killed him. And he felt near-death in this moment; a sensation in which he feels he should run far away from you, no matter how clueless you seem right now. All that mattered was that he recognized you in a way that felt dangerous, like it should not be happening.

He excuses him, and runs off at your confusion.

“I knew I’d find you here. Luckily so soon, too.”

Kunikuzushi, or Scaramouche—not that he could bother to care much right now—whipped his head around in horrific shock. The Dendro Archon stood there right at his tail, looking up at his disgruntled eyes in disappointment.

“Do you know who you are right now?” she continues, approaching so calmly. His startled fingers ball to fists in frustration, glaring at her from the side of his face with his back turned in what seemed like anger. But only Nahida knew, truly: he was more than ashamed now. “Am I speaking to the Wanderer, or who you really are?”

He scoffs. “Has anyone ever told you how annoying your questions are?” he insults, much unlike the Wanderer.

“Oh, so it sounds like you remember everything,” the Archon states. Her tone is almost one of giggling, yet she does not make much haste when approaching him. There is no ridicule or spite in her words, her voice instead much sounding like a caring older sister getting ready to scold him. “That’s good. Makes my job easier.”

“What do you want from me,” he commands from her.

She walks without a hop or skip in her step; there no playfulness in her approach, just a slow resolve. He isn’t sure how much longer he can eye her as she comes forth—his heart is racing right now, and he needs to stop it desperately so. He is but a puppet: he is not familiar nor is he fond of this suspenseful feeling.

“Well,” she started, finally standing still next to him, “we both know why you’re here, standing right in front of Irminsul.” He flinches at her words. “How many times has it been now, Wanderer? Five? Forty? Hundreds?”

“That’s none of your business,” he snarls at her, turning his face away. But still, he stands ashamed, balling his fists constantly as if he hoped his nails would break his inhuman palms until they impossibly bled. “It isn’t my fault, you know.”

She hummed. He wanted to punch her from this sound alone—she should not assume she knows his reasonings as well as he himself does. “But as a man who is a new human”—he feels himself almost hurl from the lecture—“you need to learn how to handle human issues in a human way.”

“But no matter what, I am not human,” he tells her. “This is all I know to do.”

“Erasing yourself over and over again is not the answer, I fear, Wanderer.” And this is where she almost giggles at him, and he feels more embarrassed, converted to anger. But he could not deny this. He could not deny that he was stupidly resetting the world and it’s memory of him.

Stupidity, unfortunately, was his opinionated best shot.

“Just one more.” It was like a beg. “Just one more, because I was seen.”

“I’m called the Wanderer.”

You looked at him surprised, and he hid his face under his hat in embarrassment. You immediately notice how his stance is completely changed from before, demeanor like shifted to a different person.

“Oh!” you notice surely. “You’re back—you left so abruptly earlier…”

He somehow feels more ashamed than before. This was his millionth first-meeting with you by now, and somehow the most humiliating one. There was something about meeting you like this every time—being erased of his own memories by himself, slowly remembering his own memories, and crying out because he’s entangled himself with you once more. And that’s when he breaks down, and resets the world all before the Dendro Archon catches him.

And now, here he was, standing here like a middle schooler forced by his mother to apologize to a girl he liked.

“Sorry…” he seethe through gritted teeth. He really isn’t sure how to continue this conversation with you. In his own head, he has all these memories of your first relationship, and of all these first meetings, and you… You were just meeting him like a stranger.

But when you look at him all the same, a different sense of familiarity in your eyes… He feels it may be different this time.

And, he might just allow himself to love you now.

MERRY CHRISTMAS I LOVE YEWWW

#scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #scara x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin x gender neutral reader

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pink-tea · 1 year

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pillow talk

☆ pairing: choi beomgyu x fem! reader

☆ smut

☆ word count: 3,333 (yes i did have to edit the fic cause it was originally 3,334)

☆ sub! beomgyu, dom! reader, voyeurism, pillow humping (for both), improper panty use (someone please tell me the term i'm begging), punishment, bratty! beomgyu, guided masturbation? (pillow humping), slightly toxic behaviors mentioned but it's okay cause it's beomgyu, choking, begging, mix of praise and degradation, oral play (fingers in mouth), just messy overall

☆ beomgyu wants a punishment, you make him watch you get off so that he knows what to do when it's his turn

yes this was spurred by long haired beomgyu!! shoutout to the people posting all the concert videos on youtube cause i am binging the hell out of them even though i am very jealous and bitter at the fact that i wasn't there ;(

Beomgyu hasn’t been listening to you recently. It’s always loud huffs of annoyance, batting his eyelashes at you, grinning with mirth cause he knows you just can’t say no. It’s irritating because he’s right, you can’t say no to your pretty boyfriend.

With his cute smiles and his pretty face, it would be difficult to say no. He knows this; he uses it to his advantage. So when he plays around, pressing your buttons by turning his head away from your kisses, swiping your credit card right in front of you to buy some expensive new video game, whining and calling you annoying when you try to say no, you tolerate it.

You can tolerate your boyfriend’s bad behavior.

But you will not tolerate your sub’s bad behavior.

It’s all fun and games, it’s tolerable (just barely) when it’s outside of the bedroom. But when it comes to sex, when it comes down to the dynamic the two of you established over years of trust and wholehearted love, you know what role you play. You know how Beomgyu likes to be treated, you know his sweet spots and all of his favorite ways to be touched, you know that the moment his bratty behavior translates into the bedroom everything changes.

When Beomgyu decides to torment you in public, draining most of the color in your face when he grinds into you from behind as the makeup attendant tries to color match your foundation, suddenly you understand. The brat just wanted to be put back in his place, having some fun along the way as he pushed your buttons as your troublesome boyfriend. Now that he’s had his fill, it’s time to have yours.

“Stop that,” the grip you have on his wrist says, your smile tight and your jaw ticking as you try not to get thrown out your favorite makeup store for public indecency. “Make me,” the gaspy, whiny little moan he breathes in your ear says. It’s all it takes for you to tell the employee that you’re in a rush, so you’ll visit another day.

Beomgyu doesn’t fight when you drag him out into the parking lot and fume silently as you start the car. Cocky little passenger princess decides that pushing your buttons when you’re one wrong press away from crashing into the car in front of you is the best idea.

“Stop that,” you hiss, making Beomgyu’s fingers pause as they trail around your thighs. His expression visibly sours before it goes blank, eyes twinkling with nothing good as his resolve sets. His hand flattens on your thigh, fingers settling on the inside now that he’s making the effort to grasp it firmly.

“It’s been a while,” Beomgyu comments absentmindedly, making your breath stutter as he plays around with the button of your jeans. “Missed you, missed touching you…” He trails off, catching your eye as his index finger trails down your zipper, putting enough pressure so that you can feel it through the denim. “Missed you touching me,” he finishes, pink lips curling into a small smile.

His words make you want to bang your head into the car window. The fact that you hadn’t touched him recently was his fault, riling you up just to turn away from your kisses, sucking on your fingers when honey or chocolate would get on them during dessert only to saunter away. He knows you’re not going to do anything he doesn’t want, but he’s been doing this on purpose, both of you know he has.

You silently thank the fact that the store isn’t far from home, just a few more minutes of enduring his torture.

“Keep your hands to yourself,” you tell him, almost willing to cry in relief once you can finally park in the driveway. His hand pauses against your clothed cunt, having caused you all kinds of grief throughout the drive, fingers slipping inside your underwear at some point (thank god for red lights).

“Why should I?” He asks you, making your gaze snap over to him with an intensity that makes the blood in his veins buzz. You don’t give him the luxury of an answer, turning the engine off and grabbing his hand, throwing it back over to him as you take off your seatbelt and step out.

Huffing in disappointment, Beomgyu unfastens himself before jumping slightly when you suddenly open the door to his side. “Out,” you tell him, looking down at him with an expression he can’t read. The sight makes him hesitate, wondering if he really made you mad this time before steeling himself.

With a grin, he steps out, watching as you quickly walk ahead of him and unlock the door. Nothing is said as you take off your jacket and toss your keys onto the couch. You walk to your shared bedroom, and Beomgyu decides to follow you.

When he walks in after you, you turn, pressing your hand onto the door Beomgyu had been gently pushing closed to make it slam. Beomgyu startles at the sound, looking at you with wide eyes, protest on his lips. The words die in his throat at the sight of your cold look, arm cornering him between you and the wall.

“Sit down, Gyu,” you instruct, lips quirking up into a slight smile even though Gyu knows better than to be disarmed by it. Giving you a questioning gaze, Beomgyu walks over to and sits on a small stool in the room. Satisfied, he watches as you begin to take your clothes off piece by piece.

The brunette watches your jeans slide down, shirt slipped off and thrown to some corner of the room. He watches as you crawl into bed, watches the way you reach back and unclip your bra, letting it slip down your shoulders before tossing it in the same direction as your shirt. He watches the way you slide up to the edge of the bed, letting your legs dangle right in front of him before you lift your hips, thumbs digging into the fabric of your underwear. You spread your legs open just enough for him to see the way your wetness makes the cotton stick to your cunt, watches the way you slide them down your legs.

You don’t toss the garment away, simply scooting back to the middle of the bed before you place it gently on one of the pillows. Taking the other, however, makes Beomgyu’s eyes widen as he realizes your intentions. Dick already painfully hard in his sweatpants, he starts to make a fuss.

“Wait—” He starts, eyes widening in panic as you place it underneath you and in between your cushiony thighs. “What are you doing?” He questions, voice so whiny and frantic that it makes you glance over to him. He looks about ready to leap off the stool, posture tense even though his fists sit politely in his lap.

“I’m gonna demonstrate,” you explain vaguely, letting out a soft sigh as you sink your hips onto the pillow, clit dragging against the fabric. “And you’re gonna watch me, honey,” you hum, using one of Beomgyu’s pet names, lightly mocking him. “You’re gonna watch me, and then you’re gonna fuck yourself the same way I do,” you finish, staring him down.

“That way you can prove that you’re not just some disobedient whore that doesn’t know how to follow instructions,” you say, casually enough that it makes Beomgyu flinch. “You get to show me that you can actually get my words through that pretty, thick skull of yours. That my sweet Beomie actually knows better than to play around and question my authority, ‘kay?” You ask, not expecting an answer as Beomgyu swallows thickly.

“But first, you get to watch.”

So he watches. He watches the way your eyes flutter closed as you drag your wet pussy against the pillow, focused on the pleasure as you ignore the way Beomgyu is staring daggers into your skin. Big, brown eyes watching in despair as you rock your hips back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

“Fuck,” you gasp when your hips stutter, throwing your head back and opening your eyes to gaze down at Beomgyu. He lets out a pathetic whimper when your eyes meet, his confident posture from earlier withered away the longer he watches, squeezing his thighs together in a desperate attempt of getting friction. His cock is aching, but it seems that he wants to behave now, the desire to prove he’s not just a dumb whore stuck in his head.

“Are you watching?” You ask, taking one of your hands to reach up and squeeze your tit, sighing as you roll your nipple between your fingers. It’s embarrassing to admit that Beomgyu had succeeded in riling you up, getting you all wet and bothered from the constant teasing that you can already feel an orgasm creeping up on you from the stimulation. But he can’t know that, so you take your time, grinding and rolling your hips softly.

You want what he wants, want the feeling of his cock deep inside, hitting all the right places as you keep a hand in his hair and tell him what to do. But this is his punishment, and you’re patient. He can get a reward when he proves that he can handle this much, when he proves that he’s learned his lesson.

“I’m watching,” he answers weakly, eyes quickly flickering from your eyes to watch the way you please yourself against the pillow. He swallows, watching the way the fabric is darkened from your arousal, mouth watering at the thought of his head between your thighs, licking up the mess you’re making. Fuck.

His fists are balled up so tightly that he can feel the way his nails dig into his palm. But he can’t look away, minutes feeling like hours before you finally decide to stop putting on a show in favor of chasing your peak. Beomgyu listens to your gasps and your moans as you speed up the motion of your hips, knowing that he can get you off ten times— if not a hundred times better than you can yourself, knowing that this is the punishment he deserves.

The stimulation to your clit soon becomes too much for you, making you shut your eyes as you flinch and tremble from the pleasure shooting up your spine. The warmth in your stomach curls into a ball, making you bite your lip to suppress a whimper once it finally snaps. Your pace stutters and you let out a slightly exaggerated moan once the cum drips out of you and further stains the already messed up cushioned, eyes fluttering back open to stare at Beomgyu.

Eyes wide, your boyfriend shifts in his seat, giving you a pleading look once you tilt your head and offer him a smile. “Do you know what to do now?” You ask, groaning softly as you maneuver yourself off the pillow. It takes him a few seconds to answer, eyes fixed on the way your juices string as you try to remove yourself, pussy soaked.

“Yes,” he breathes, eyes stuck on you once you finally climb off the bed and make your way to stand in front of him. Holding your hand out to him, you help him up. His boner is obvious, tenting his sweatpants and the sight makes you snicker.

“Take it all off and get on the bed,” you instruct, moving to take Beomgyu’s previous seat as he shakily begins removing his clothing. You watch as he does so, letting your eyes wander over the smooth expanse of his stomach and admire the redness of his flushed tip once he takes off his boxers. Beomgyu’s movements are rushed, ears flushed pink from the embarrassment and natural arousal from watching you get off.

He climbs onto the bed the same way you had, hand reaching for a new pillow.

“Uh-uh,” you scold quickly, making Beomgyu freeze and turn his head to you with a confused look. “Use the same one,” you tell him, the words going straight down to Beomgyu’s cock as his confusion turns into slight mortification. Wordlessly, he turns his gaze to the stained pillow, images of you cumming all over the fabric just minutes ago flashing through his mind.

Slowly, almost hesitantly (when in reality he’s just trying really hard not to sob), he climbs onto it. He gasps at the wet feeling, shuddering at the chill because your cum is already cold from the a.c. blowing in the room. It feels gross good. Beomgyu’s ashamed at the realization.

Looking up, Beomgyu startles at the sight of you staring, eyes hungry. There’s a sense of power between the two of you, something you had finally regained even though you were just as naked as him. It suffocates Beomgyu and makes him drop the eye contact in a flustered panic, his shyness mixed with the humiliation of what he’s about to do already making his cheeks flare red.

“Well don’t just keep me here waiting,” you break the silence, making Beomgyu jump and unintentionally rut his hips into the fabric. He lets out a loud, whiny moan at the feeling, twitching at the stimulation from being teased for so long. Your encouragement along with his own desire finally gets him moving, hands curled into the sheets to anchor himself as he hunches over the pillow.

He copies the way you got off earlier, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. The sight is almost too pretty to bear, but Beomgyu’s hunched posture and hanged head makes his bangs cascade to cover his expression. You’re unsatisfied with this, standing up and silently making your way over to the bed.

Beomgyu, who can already hardly hear you through the sound of his blood pumping in his ears gasps when you grab his chin. You drag his head up, making him whine as his posture straightens and his back arches as a result. His brain goes fuzzy with your touch, loving the sight of you staring down at him as he practically melts in your palm.

“Can’t—hah—can’t do this without you,” he whimpers, hips stuttering and jerking as his body struggles to decide if he should lean into or away from the stimulation on his dick. Beomgyu makes a point to give you his best puppy eyes, eyelashes fluttering up at you as he tries to play at your weakness.

It’s working until it doesn’t. You feel your resolve starting to slip, thoughts of crawling on top of Beomgyu and riding him till he cums flooding your mind until you feel one of his hands try to paw at your arm. The realization that he’s trying to get his way during his punishment forces you back into clarity.

Narrowing your eyes at him, the hand cradling his chin moves to grab at his throat, forcing out a gasp as his hand clings onto the wrist holding him. “You’re still trying to get out of your punishment?” You ask, huffing out a disbelieving laugh as Beomgyu sputters in your hold. “Fuck the pillow, Gyu. Either that or you don’t get to come at all,” you explain harshly.

Beomgyu’s grip tightens on you for a split second before it releases, back to fisting the covers as he slowly starts up the movement of his hips again.

“There you go,” you coo, hand still placed firmly on Beomgyu’s throat as he does as he’s told. “Shouldn’t be that hard to cum, you were just begging to get fucked like a slut earlier,” you spur him on, smiling at the way Beomgyu’s eyes shut close at the insult. “At least I’m letting you cum this time, should’ve edged you for hours with how long you’ve been acting like a brat these days,” you say, watching the way Gyu’s lips twist into a pout and his eyes open to look at you again.

His eyes are misty, mouth falling into a moan before he can find the words he wants to say. “You’re so—You’re so mean,” he whines, head rolling back when you put more pressure on his throat in return.

“Mean?” You ask, letting the question linger in the air before you remove the hand on Beomgyu’s throat. He watches you silently, whimpering softly at the feeling of his leaking tip sliding against the wetness of your cum. You lean over slightly across the bed, one of your hands curling around the fabric of the underwear you had left on the bed earlier.

You lean back into place, holding the garment right in front of Beomgyu’s face so that he can see the dark patch where your pussy had soaked through the fabric. His mouth waters at the sight, and like a mind reader, you take two underwear clad fingers and shove them past Beomgyu’s lips.

He moans loud at the taste, twitching and rutting against the pillow as the taste of your slick lands on his tongue. Drool starts to seep into the underwear and leak past his lips, big eyes looking up at you through his pleasure induced haze.

“Keep going,” you tell him, referencing the way his hips had stopped moving again. “This way, I don’t have to hear what other stupid shit you’re gonna say,” you explain, Beomgyu’s whine muffled as he sloppily starts grinding down into the pillow. He starts to melt, posture hunching over again and it makes your eyes narrow.

You crook the two fingers in his mouth, digits digging in cruelly as you drag him back up again. He shudders at the pain, drool now openly slipping down his chin and landing into the disgusting mix of cum that he continues to rut into. Now playing around with the current position, you rotate your fingers to dig into the roof of his mouth instead, pulling him up even harder.

Beomgyu’s mouth drops open with the motion, still full of panties and drool as the motion makes his back arch further in order to follow your direction. The arch makes his cock slide against the pillow at a new angle, one that makes his eyes shut tightly as shivers run through his body. He adds to the mess on the pillow with his own orgasm, still held up by your fingers even as his body begs him to fall down onto the mattress.

Chasing his orgasm, he still humps the pillow, wet noises reaching his ears as his cum mixes with yours. The feeling makes him cry out softly, eyes blinking open through the fresh wave of tears that came with his peak. He looks up at you from where you continue to stare down at him, unmoving as you watch him ride through his orgasm.

With a smile, you remove your fingers and the underwear from his mouth. Beomgyu now realizes that his jaw is a bit sore, closing his mouth and swallowing the saliva that pooled as you take a thumb and swipe away the drool on his lips. “Thank you,” he mutters, receiving a soft hum of acknowledgement from you in return.

“You’re lucky that I love you,” you respond, making Beomgyu giggle as he slides off the pillow with shaky legs.

“Love you too,” he purrs, leaning into your touch and pressing a sweet kiss onto your thumb. Your gaze melts into something fond at the affection, and you remove your hand with an exaggerated sigh.

“Toss the pillow away, I want to cuddle.”

Beomgyu’s nose scrunches up in disgust, “What? No, I’m sticky.”

“So was the pillow.” “That was your idea!”

“You liked it though.”

Beomgyu groans in annoyance, shifting on the bed before finally plopping down against the clean cushions. Silently, he opens his arms, huffing when your naked figure crashes onto his. Content, you smile into his collarbone, letting his arms wrap around you as your legs intertwine.

“You were right, you are sticky.” “Shut up.”

#sub txt #dom reader #txt smut #sub choi beomgyu #sub beomgyu #i have to get up early you guys </3 #wishing i had been at weverse con :(

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gourmetjello · 4 months

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könig x reader : same little sound

so so so so sorry for disappearing !! i was way too busy with studying and training — take this as a wholehearted apology !! (˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )づ♡

—

holding hands. a sane person would probably imagine two soft palms pressing against each other, fingers tightly or loosely intertwined. someone with a wilder imagination would also associate this whole thing with soft little kisses on the cheek, gentle chuckles and whispers. hushed little breaths and soft, sneaky looks from behind eyelashes.

you thought you were a sane person until a few months ago. you thought that holding hands was like that, it was the way your parents taught you to cling onto your cousin’s hand. you dangled it around, having a little fun as it all just seemed like a chore to do, to appear as someone who loves another person.

tap. tap. tap.

soft and gentle taps against your knuckles were the only things you could feel as you sat on the edge of your bed. the bedsheets were messy and there was some kind of unknown stain on your pillow, it was probably coffee or something like that. you might ask me — ‘munchi, why are you writing about what’s on my pillow? you’re embarrassing me, it’s dirty,’ then you’re right, but when your eyes are darting around the room, not knowing where to look out of dizziness, you start to examine the stain on your pillow, right?

you look at the way the liquid was spilled, you start to think about when it could have happened. maybe you let your guard down for a second and the mug slipped from your hand. no, that would have made a bigger mess, for sure. doesn’t even matter. you start to see the traces of the golden ratio in the shape of it, it feels like you’re going insane for a second as your mind is spinning even when you’re supposed to be relaxed, and then —

you really are insane, right? rubbing clothed fingers in a pair of black gloves against soft, bare knuckles can’t be considered hand-holding. what were you even thinking?

“is this okay?”

a gentle sound snaps the silence in half. he probably thought about blurting this sentence out for three or four minutes before forming the words in his mouth with his tongue, trying it out how he would have to create the sentence behind closed lips in order to not sound weird. he didn’t dare look up to your face, the dark blob in the corner of your eye just seeming like a little part of your vision you just happened to lose.

but no, he was really there. you moved your head to the right side and you seemed to lose even more of your precious sight — seeing someone kneeling right next to your bed. you didn’t want to think about these damned letters that spelled his name out. if you were determined enough then you could basically ignore using the letters of his name when speaking, purely out of innocent stupidity and because you didn’t want to remind yourself of how much you liked the harsh cotton against your knuckles.

but if you constantly thought about avoiding those little guys then it would also just always remind you of them. it would linger in your mind forever and ever until you eventually forget about what you wanted to ignore so badly. and that’s what the original plan was, but gosh, it hurt to realize that deep down, that wasn’t what you actually wanted.

“yeah.”

you mumbled out under your breath, almost choking on this one small little word. at least it didn’t contain any of his letters, that’s already half success! this needs to be celebrated by —

“i’m not hurting you, right?”

how could he ever hurt you? his fingers were treating your hand like it was made of the finest porcelain material ever, like it was a boquet of a thousand blossoming roses and like it was the head of a baby doe, just carefully petting so the mother won’t notice the smell of a human on it.

oh, i totally forgot what i was about to say there! so, that needs to be celebrated by him looking up from the ground. soft, blue eyes staring right into yours, that’s what i’m talking about! he seemed so hesitant, it was like he was scared of you just reaching out and breaking his spine in half. that’s stupid, isn’t it? if anyone would be able to break his bones in half just with a small snap then it would actually be himself. that man was a fucking ram.

“no.”

you shook your head gently, slipping your hand out of his. he seemed surprised for a second, not knowing why you made this sudden movement when he was in the middle of finally taking a huge step (that was only huge in his own closed-off little mind).

“come on, könig. sit up here, will you?”

you said his name! you said the letters, you lost. you absolutely lost, but there wasn’t really anything else you could have done. those blue eyes staring up at you made you lose this little game that you made up in your mind, and the worst part is that you didn’t even notice it at first.

the rough sound of his knee pads scraping against the dirty and old tiled floor made you practically deaf in one ear until you finally saw him in front of you, sitting on the bed with one leg still hanging down from the floor. thankfully he took his boots off earlier, you wouldn’t want a muddy stain on your blanket! would go nicely with the coffee drop on your pillow, totally makes it a set. you could just write ‘i’m messy and i don’t clean up after myself!’ in caps lock on your forehead and it would basically mean the same thing, huh?

“thanks.”

butterflies seemed to be waking up in your stomach as his hand returned to your knuckles once again. brushing softly and gently, but never letting skin rub against skin, he was still in his black gloves. you wished you could just grab the fabric and tug it them off of him but you knew it would scare him away. you had to treat him like a wounded animal — and he treated you like one as well in return.

a gentle sting on your neck was what you needed to finally inject a numbing serum into the butterflies, making them land somewhere in your belly. his mask was gently lifted and you wished you could grasp even a tiny bit of what was under it but the way he leaned on your shoulder like that made the details impossible to see. he clung onto you like a baby.

“i’m sorry if that hurt. wasn’t my intention.”

“it didn’t. you’re fine.”

“thank you.”

“you don’t have to say thank you for everything, hm?”

he just shook his head as he pulled back slightly. his blue eyes were desperately looking for any kind of emotion in your own irises. he was probably trying to scan the look you gave him, trying to detect if he was making and moves you didn’t like, or if you were uncomfortable.

but you were steady. he was slow and you liked the way he hushed and mumbled small little things into the air everytime he did something with you. the way his lips moved against your skin made you slightly shiver and it was looking like the butterflies woke up before they were supposed to. your system was running out of soothing and numbing liquids for the little creatures of excitement, you weren’t making enough to sedate them.

“how about this?”

he whispered as he gently placed a hand on your thigh. your camouflage print pants lightly creaked under his fingers, the way he softly gripped it made you think of the golden ratio again. you would have bet your life that the way he was holding you was mathematically perfect, even though his grip was loose it felt like you were being choked by a thousand little chopped up pieces of ropes.

“mhm. there.”

“and here?”

“please,” you spoke gently, trying to keep the silence.

könig. könig, könig, könig. there, i wrote his name down four times, here — könig, let’s make it five so it’s a prettier number that feels less empty. it isn’t just on you now, we both lost the game. but the way he was touching your thighs was basically too much in the best way possible.

he tried to keep eye contact with you but you knew that he was struggling. he kept moving his head away, not knowing if he should lean down to be closer to you or keep his original posture to be as far away as possible. he had no idea which one would br the better choice, he didn’t know what made you feel that little knot in your stomach yet.

“if i asked you really nicely,” he started quietly, his voice shaky. “would you touch me there too?”

“here? your thighs?”

“yes. please.”

and before you could voluntarily reach out to grab him, he slid a little closer to you on the bed and he carefully wrapped two fingers around your wrist, pulling it closer to himself. he placed it right where he wanted to — and you couldn’t help but make a mental note on how much his hand was shaking.

“thank you,” his voice echoed in the quiet and small room. you let out a deep breath as he placed his hand back onto your thigh, gently kneading it. it felt so soft.

and when you realized that he was still in a mask and you’ve never even seen his face before, it gave you that little feeling that this might be wrong. a gut feeling, or whatever. but there were butterflies in your guts too! they were telling you the exact opposite. telling you about how you were going insane because of you accepting what he did earlier as a way of holding hands. was this what falling in love felt like?

you would think it was one sided. honestly, i thought it was one sided too. but when he gently took his hand off of your thigh and tugged his gloves off, you knew something changed inside him too.

and he was looking at the coffee stain as well. and he thought about the golden ratio, and about the butterfly sedatives, and the thank yous, and — maybe, just maybe, there was the same little sound speaking inside both of your heads.

—

gentle könig !! no other words. also. would anyone else be interested in being added to my taglist? i still have no idea how these work, but @axophyllic gave me the idea and i’m totally okay with it if anyone else is interested. ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

and if you have any ideas on what i should write about — please don’t keep it to yourself! let me know.

good night!

#cod mw2 #cod oneshot #konig #könig #könig call of duty #könig cod #könig fanfiction #könig modern warfare #könig mw2 #könig x reader #konig x y/n #konig call of duty #konig modern warfare #konig mw2 #konig cod #konig x reader #konig x you #konig fluff #könig fluff

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cirilla-fiona-riannon · 11 months

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Give Me Everything You Have

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Please support Cybird by buying their stories. Expect grammatical errors.

Emma: ".........."

Silvio: "Yeah, I'll mediate the next business deal. I know a good jeweler for that."

Emma: ".........."

Silvio: "Since the weather in that sea area is unpredictable, it's better to use a different route."

Emma: ".........."

Silvio: "I'm willing to invest, but I expect a proper return for it."

(There's no sign of it ending at all!)

After Silvio slipped away, I couldn't even get close due to the wall people had built.

Still, I managed to approach a part of it, but when our eyes briefly met in the crowd, I received a provocative gaze, making me suspect it was intentional.

(It's frustrating. I wanted to celebrate more than anyone else in this room.)

(And yet, the people here keep talking endlessly about diplomacy and business deals.)

(That's not a celebration. It's just official business disguised as a birthday.)

He was constantly smiling and responding, but I knew it was just a facade.

I clenched my fist every time I heard their conversations, thinking I could've given him a much better celebration.

------------Flashback------------

Silvio: "You want to celebrate with me? Then don't give up until you give me everything you got."

---------Flashback Ends---------

(I've made up my mind.)

(There's not much time left for his birthday. He should’ve completed his official duties by now.)

If I continued to watch silently, nothing would happen.

Above all, Silvio himself seemed to be yearning for a wholehearted celebration.

------------Flashback------------

Rio: “You shouldn’t yield to that flashy guy or other people.”

Rio: “You can say this to him if you want: As my fiancée, you need to obey me and give me your time!”

---------Flashback Ends---------

(Alright.)

I took a deep breath and pushed through the crowd, trying to break through the wall that separated me from him. Finally, I managed to get closer to the guest of honor.

He was talking with what appeared to be a merchant, but he turned around, perhaps noticing my creeping presence.

Silvio: “*sigh* Your hair is all messed up一”

I grabbed his collar and forcefully pulled him closer, silencing him by kissing his lips.

Silvio: “!?”

Silvio: “What are you...? You bastard...”

Emma: “Happy birthday, Prince Silvio. This is my gift to you.”

To further surprise him, I kissed him again while he remained frozen.

Then a murmur ran through the once lively venue.

(I want to run away now!)

But it seemed I wasn’t the only one thinking that as he carried me in his arms, his face turning red.

As expected一No, his reaction was even quicker than I anticipated.

Without glancing at anyone around him, we swiftly left the venue.

Silvio: “What the hell are you thinking, you idiot!?”

That was his words when we returned to his room.

Despite his shouting, his bright red face made the word "idiot" feel sweet.

Emma: "I told you it was a gift!"

Emma: "God, you're so shy!"

Silvio: "Who are you saying that to, you damn woman?"

He messed up my already disheveled hair even further, ruffling it vigorously.

I was afraid to look in the mirror, but...

(There were definitely results.)

Emma: "If I did that in public, I knew you would react this way."

Silvio: "You...!"

Emma: "Are you mad at me?"

Silvio: "Of course not. I'm just..."

He sighed and gently placed me in front of the mirror.

(Ah...)

I saw my face completely red, even to my ears, making it impossible to tease him.

(I thought I was keeping calm!)

Silvio: "Don't make that kind of face in public. It's making me want to pounce on you."

Emma: "I-I'm sorry."

Silvio: ".........."

Emma: ".........."

He fixed my hair, and our eyes met in the mirror.

After gazing at each other for a while, he bursts into laughter.

Silvio: "Alright, alright, I give up. Sorry for teasing you."

(He did it on purpose!)

Silvio: "From now on, I'll give you all my attention."

Emma: "Really? But you still have guests."

Silvio: "You're more important than any guest."

Silvio: "Besides, I'm sure everyone took the hint."

(I'm afraid of the rumors that will circulate tomorrow, but more than that, I'm happy.)

Emma: "Prince Silvio, aren't you tired?"

Silvio: "I'm not tired, so bring me the cake already."

Emma: "Why would there be a cake?"

Silvio: "There's no way you wouldn't get me one for my birthday."

Silvio: "I'm hungry, so hurry up and feed me."

Emma: "Is that the reason you didn't eat much?"

Silvio: "It'd bother me if I couldn't eat your food."

(Geez!)

He arrogantly sat on the sofa, but his expression, unlike when he was surrounded by people, was relaxed and full of joy.

(I knew he had to be like this.)

Emma: "I suppose I have no choice. Today, I'll spoon-feed you."

Silvio: "*sigh* Is that all? It's not enough, you know?"

Emma: "What? Do you want me to feed you mouth-to-mouth?"

Silvio: "Why did you think of something like that? Well, maybe it's not a bad idea."

Emma: "It's a bad idea!"

Silvio: "Don't you dare challenge the birthday boy."

Beckoning me to come closer, he pulled my hand, causing me to fall into his chest, and lifted my chin.

Silvio: "I told you earlier to give me everything you got."

Emma: “Ah...”

Silvio: “Just so you know, I won’t let you sleep until you’ve completely celebrated with me.”

I’m not a child not to know what he was trying to say.

Emma: “All right. As you wish.”

(Now that I finally have his time, I’ll show him what a heartfelt celebration truly means.)

Afterward, I handed over a sweet and salty flavored cake, which I’d made after many failed attempts, along with a handmade embroidered amulet pouch that one would make and give to someone before they went out to sea.

My gift may seem modest compared to the others, but he received it with the utmost delight.

And for just how delighted he was...

Emma: “I can’t believe it.”

Silvio: “Ha?”

Emma: “Isn’t it already morning?”

Silvio: “Yeah.”

(I never imagined we would do such things throughout the night.)

Just the slightest movement was enough to cause the honey to spill out between my legs.

He hugged me from behind, still feeling overwhelmed by fatigue that prevented me from getting up.

However, he was moving his hands on my legs seductively despite caressing my whole body last night.

Emma: "Your birthday is over."

Silvio: "It's not over until I say it's over."

(If he enjoyed our time together so much, it truly brings credit to being his fiancée.)

I laughed, and he buried his face in my neck, licking my skin.

I let out an embarrassingly sweet moan, even though my voice should've been hoarse by now.

Silvio: "I tasted a lot of you last night, but you're still so sweet."

Emma: "Prince Silvio..."

(Just a slight touch is making me feel so hot. My body is really acting up right now.)

I squirmed, and he placed his hand on my head, preventing me from moving.

Silvio: "I won't stop."

Silvio: "This gift belongs to me, and I won't let you take it away. If you understand, get ready to be loved."

Emma: "I don't want to."

Silvio: "Ha?"

Emma: "Because it's your birthday."

Silvio: "So what?"

Emma: "In other words..."

Emma: "It's you who should be loved."

(I've already received more than enough love.)

I turned around and kissed him.

I no longer felt shame and had no hesitation in intertwining my tongue with his.

Silvio: "You've become quite the erotic kisser, huh?"

Emma: "Whose fault do you think that is?"

I deliberately furrowed my eyebrows, and he laughed seductively.

That expression was something I was sure the numerous guests couldn’t bring out of him.

(He sincerely prefers me instead of a grand celebration surrounded by many people.)

(That’s the reason I can’t help but fall in love with him.)

I repeatedly nibbled on his lips and cupped his cheeks with my hands.

Emma: “I might just kidnap you next year.”

Silvio: “*sigh* I’ll make a special exception and allow it.”

Emma: “Don’t regret those words later, okay?”

(I won’t hold back or give him any more consideration.)

(I’m confident I’ll make him happier than anyone else on his birthday.)

Part 1 ┆ Part 2 ┆ His POV

#ikemen prince #ikepri silvio #silvio ricci #ikepri jp #ikepri #ikepri translations

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timeturnerz · 1 year

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i forgot if someone already talked about this, so apologies if they have

but in mockingjay pt 1 (can’t remember if this line is in the books), peeta says: “First off, you have to understand that when you're in the game, you only get one wish. It's very costly.”

it’s so powerful because katniss’s original wish is just to keep her loved ones alive (why she volunteers for prim), and peeta’s is to never have the games/capitol change who he is fundamentally (the famous “I just don't want to be another piece in their game.”)

and at every turn in the narrative, the capitol denies them their original wishes. katniss’s family is threatened, gale is whipped near to death, peeta is thrown back into the games, her entire district is bombed, etc. and peeta gets hijacked, gets the indiscriminate kindness and wholehearted love he has for katniss stolen from him and replaced by hatred and fear.

but still at the end of the story, katniss and peeta help one another achieve those original wishes. they “grow back together” and heal from their trauma!! collins shows us that through love any pain can be overcome! which is a very fitting microcosm for the themes of the series as a whole!

#sorry for rambling #means a lot to me #thg #thgmeta #hunger games #the hunger games #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #interesting

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sankatsuka · 4 months

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Backlit Lens Flare and CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY Discussion - Reigniting The Passion Lost to Peer Pressure

Everyone wants to have a place to belong, where the hard work we pour into the things we love will be seen and appreciated by people. But what happens when you decide you will never find this place and resign yourself to a life of solitude, only to be proven wrong by a group of people who insist on your wholehearted hard work? And it only later dawns on you that you will someday have to part ways and you will lose the miraculous place you finally found.

This is what I like to think Rui Kamishiro encapsulates - the battle between being yourself and wanting a place to belong. How easy it is to get swayed from what you love when you think you've found this place and start to subconsciously dedicate your passion to this place instead, to the point that if you're not aware enough, you can forget the feelings in your original passion (resulting in the hesitation and doubt in Curtain Call). After all, nobody is the same, and if you focus too much of your passion on them, that passion becomes about them and not yourself. Ultimately, it is how not acknowledging a healthy boundary with people who are different from you can affect your passion (Shiho as a character is very integral to this).

Warnings:

I believe the entire WxS plot is meant to be misdirection.

Personal interpretation of Rui and several characters by inferring from text.

I believe Rui is a flawed person with no bad intentions, so there will be criticism of his character here. I really suggest turning away if it upsets you.

Spoilers for all WxS unit stories up till Backlit Lens Flare (as well as for Saki, Shiho, Akito, Mafuyu and Mizuki's characters up to their most recent stories)

Edit (11/2/2024): Made multiple edits as always, but biggest change is talking more about the foils in CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY and Kitty's message. Edit (12/2/2024): Compulsory mention of Rui's mom and how he was set up for failure from way back then. Edit (12/2/2024): Expansion on the parallels between Rui and Mafuyu - what it is that makes them the CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY and Jackpot Sad Girl. And a summary on how three commission parallels supports this interpretation of CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY about Rui's characters. Edit (13/2/2024): Lets add a bit more about how Resonate with You criticizes Rui's actions in Curtain Call. AND MANJI ALSO BEING A SLANG MEANING EXCITEMENT, STILL APPLIES TO TSUKASA IDC!!

Rui's character in the story starts off as someone who has thrown the part of himself who wants to have fun making things with people after being repeatedly let down by them. The early times with Wonderlands x Showtime helped him remember that desire from childhood to find a place that accepts that desire, that he criticizes Tsukasa for not appreciating WxS - for not realizing the best shows can't be accomplished without friends.

"--The best shows can't be done alone."

Following the fallout, Tsukasa and WxS' continued insistence and appreciation of him makes him start to see them as a place he can finally belong to. The place he's searched for for so long since childhood. That when he saw Tsukasa get hurt, he became swayed from doing the things he wanted to do for the first time and he hadn't even noticed it - because Tsukasa might leave him like his classmates had, so he has to hold back so as to not disappoint him further. This resulted in Tsukasa and Ruis second argument, with Tsukasa being angry at Rui for lying and holding back - which I later argue is the exact same feelings in his FUZAKERUNA in CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY.

"This is surprising. I didn't think I'd ever feel this way." "Being afraid of losing your place, and then being unable to face the actors who seriously respond to you - this is a failing as a director."

However, this entire ordeal ended in Rui acknowledging his weakness, putting the whole deal behind them and moving on with the show, as KAITO advised. (Spoiler: it isn't weird at all to say that this happens again, with how he deals with it so indifferently like this.)

And then in Curtain Call, he becomes painfully aware that everyone may leave someday for their dreams--

"Someday, the day we will have to depart will come... For both me, and everyone."

Doesn't this just seem like a repeat of Halloween in a different way? He's scared they'll all leave him alone. One can say that Curtain Call ignited the exact same fear of being left alone and losing your place that Rui felt in Halloween - and his reaction feels exactly the same too: acknowledge it, put it behind you and move on to doing what is best for the best shows. After all, Rui lives for the best shows, because it is what makes him most happy - albeit Backlit Lens Flare suggests how he doesn't actually fully remember the joy and passion for shows he had as a child (discussed later). The best way to put it is - Rui feels like a walking corpse of his childhood.

Normally, when you realize this possibility of parting in the future, you talk to your friends about this (see: Saki Focus 3, Get Over It). But Rui refrains from talking to the people he should be talking to (WxS) and proceeds to go for the most obvious decision for his dream by joining Arklands. Only after Asahi turns him away does he go for the next obvious option he sees - the reckless decision that he would do everything in his power to achieve everyone's dreams together. And he can so confidently chase it because he's smart, only to be put down in Backlit Lens Flare lol.

Rui has really just been powering his way through the things he finds unpleasant, as KAITO had told him to in Halloween, ignoring the bad parts and doing everything for the sake for the best shows. You can really, really argue that KAITO's advice in Halloween seems very, very morally ambiguous now lol. He doesn't think ahead of what is the best choice and what would make him happiest - it's as if he's avoiding the very line of thought of how he would do post-WxS. Compared to Shiho in Focus 1, 'Resonate With You', who shows how she has thought it through and is happy enough just spending time with Leo/need for leisure - Rui doesn't even reach this line of thought of what happens next.

I think that he avoids thinking properly about these stuff because he wouldn't have a proper answer to it. Can he really trust Asahi when many other people have disappointed him after showing some interest before this? On the other hand, he's argued with Tsukasa twice and everyone is still enthusiastic - WxS is the only place he's ever felt secure.

"There were a few people who saw my ideas and said, 'it would be interesting if we could do it'." "But even those people gradually became reluctant with the more new ideas I brought to them."

It may generally be underestimated in the story just how much Rui doesn't inherently trust people and actors.

Even CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY begins with 'Nobody's listening anyway. Music's all just fashion, players leaving the field after devouring dead sounds one night.' which can be interpreted as people who became reluctant after they spent too long around Rui as he says to KAITO above, innit.

And then, Backlit Lens Flare happens and Rui encounters ??? (Sakaki). Sakaki immediately identifies the problem with Bakuno's acting, pinpointing it to the directors instead of the actor. Rui was not able to.

Remember, the freelance option isn't permanent - there's the possibility someone may be recruited away (It's a story for another day that he is only really worried about Tsukasa instead of the whole WxS but doesn't realize this). Rui paying attention to their growths first of all before his own is testament to how he's trying to make sure they quickly grow so they can achieve their dreams together:

"...It seems it became good stimulation for both of them right away." "...I also need to more proactively study from this opportunity."

So even now, Rui is more worried about WxS over himself. He prioritizes making sure they are getting something out of the freelancing gig over himself. Only after watching them was he stimulated to do his best too - and here comes the question, where did his drive to be proactive for his own passion go to?

Sakaki's ingenuity finally pops this question to Rui's mind. Had Rui's brain not been filled with the worry of losing his place, he may have been able to think more clearly and just as quickly reach the same conclusion as Sakaki. If he had been filled with thoughts of what was satisfying for himself instead of how he could stay with everyone, he may have been able to create a much better film (see: Shiho Focus 3, Stick to Your Faith). In fact, why is he even so bothered about falling behind Sakaki, when Rui isn't even an adult or a professional director himself?

It's not normal to be bothered about that: Nene was never hard on herself for not being as good as Kazamatsuri, because it's a given she's far away. But she does get upset with herself when she realizes she had looked down on Sakurako and naively seen her as an equal. You only react that way with people you see as equals if you're secure.

Perhaps, the passionate person Rui used to be would have admired Sakaki and want to learn from him out of a pure love for shows instead. And not be so bothered about how he was falling behind professionals.

We see Rui fail twice in the story: not figuring out the problem with the scene, and not thinking ahead of personalizing the script like Ohara had. (There is a third time too: how Tsukasa and WxS seem so moved by Bakuno's performance that Rui played no part in - meaning there are others who could easily replace him - if the emotions in this discussion hold true). And it's no wonder it would have him start questioning and blaming his obsession with WxS for it - if he had not been preoccupied with them, he may have avoided his failures altogether, and even if he did, he wouldn't have been this upset.

It's like a hit to his ego. Is how he's acting and behaving really the same boy who loved shows and would do anything for a show that would satisfy him?

Right now, it's as if Rui is trying hard to protect his position as a talented genius that surpasses everyone so WxS will need him for their dreams and want him around. No one can replace him; only he can achieve their dreams for them.

But Sakaki and Ohara prove him wrong.

The closing lines of Backlit Lens Flare, where he focuses on his own feelings towards directing instead of anything WxS learned, implies this self-realization of how he had been behaving. Rui is finally focused on himself.

"I'm disappointed that I didnt come up with this method, but strangely enough, I feel refreshed." "Directing... really is interesting."

FIRST UP. WHY DID YOU NEED TO COME UP WITH THE METHOD. SECONDLY, WHY ARE YOU REFRESHED. It makes sense to me as someone who's been carried away a lot: when you realize you lost sight of your original intentions and began worrying more about so many unnecessary things, you feel bitter at your mistake but relieved and refreshed you've finally been woken up.

To me, all of these feel like they're pointing to Rui being afraid of losing his place in WxS. So he has to be capable of solving everything, achieving everyone's dreams, so they will need him for it and they can keep staying this way. Before this, it seemed like a normal human emotion he had just never experienced before, but now, it's starting to show it's actually detrimenting his passion.

This is what I believe the theme of trends are playing into in CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY - doing anything you can to make sure there will be people to hear and appreciate your music, and the spite in realizing you've lost yourself in that pursuit. Money is the artificial love you receive by catering to people so they would stay and listen to you. It's heartless, but following his character, it seems the crowd he's referring to is WxS. Because they have their strong individualistic dreams and just won't simply stay with him as he wants them to, he has to keep worrying about keeping up with them (Tsukasa mainly):

But still, here, there, everywhere, loners, manji, Gen Z, even monkeys want it.

Loners=Rui Manji (a sign of good things to come)=Tsukasa (being surrounded by good luck charms; kanji 天 being associated with heaven; inviting Rui to WxS) (edit: manji is also a slang for excitement, which Tsukasa literally is for Rui) Gen Z=Nene (digital age, playing video games) Monkey=Emu (in Rui's picnic card and Emu in Sky's Edge)

(In NY2, Emu ended up drawing tons of big luck omikuji, and Tsukasa is surrounded by monkeys in Island Panic - so you can suggest their roles are reversed. But the robot monkey Tsukasa in picnic suggests Tsukasa isn't a real monkey.)

Curtain Call and Backlit Lens Flare together show how not addressing and expressing fears properly and simply moving on changes nothing. Self-awareness and powering through is useless advice - anyone who's had troubles with lovers, friends and family know you need to talk and accomodate each other. Or not, is it even feeling loved and cared anymore, isn't it just about control then?

In Resonate with You, Shiho makes Leo/need think through their choice to join her into becoming a professional, rather than accepting them right off the bat. She knows from her prior experience working with people that half-hearted musicians would only fail, suffer and drop out. It is only by Leo/need wholeheartedly declaring their intentions of facing music sincerely and seriously that Shiho is convinced that they can all do it together for sure. This is such a contrast to Rui in Curtain Call where he decides on his own that he will find a way for WxS to achieve their dream together, while barely thinking at all. And he winds up focusing so much on making sure WxS stays together. You need to think it through, face the future seriously and talk properly. NOT JUST LEAVE IT THERE!!

Or else you'll lose sight of your original motivation from focusing too much on things that don't really matter as much to you: you'll just end up half-hearted.

Further proof that Backlit Lens Flare is Rui's realization of his half-heartedness since Curtain Call, is that Tsukasa gets angry at him in CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY like he does in Halloween. It isn't even a desperate shout to save someone - it's like a look of pure judgmental disappointment, as if they've been through this already. Stop lying.

He already shouted in anger in Halloween. If that didn't reach Rui, then there was no point in being all angry anymore.

Rui was repeating Halloween, trying so hard to protect the place he belongs to and forgot what he himself truly wants. From there, the lyrics in the entire CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY are self-explanatory: what happened to the things you wanted to sing? (I was so happy with the lyrics because it was exactly what I was thinking in Curtain Call but no one seemed to care).

One thing you can never take away from Rui is that he is a very, very passionate guy. He loves what he does that he would spend every waking hour of his day working on it. Even if he's become a shell of his former self, his body is still naturally drawn to shows (Samsa Kanade reference heh). And Rui himself believes himself to be purely passionate too. So when he realizes that passion has been thoroughly dirtied, it makes sense he's as angry as he is in CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY.

In Anni 2, Rui says he didn't know what he wanted to do like Mafuyu, but then he corrects himself to say he THOUGHT he knew.

"Actually, in the past, I didn't know what I wanted to do." "No... I should say that I thought I knew, but I actually didn't know at all."

For a brief moment, Rui thought he was just like Mafuyu with nothing to call his own. Until he quickly remembers that he did indeed have something he wanted to do, but claims to have been mistaken.

Why did you briefly relate to a girl who felt like she had nothing she wanted to do like everyone else, if that isn't a sign of his current state of mind - feeling like he has no dreams like WxS, and having to keep up with them so that he can feel like he belongs (discussed later in the parallels with Cinema). His lost passion became more evident at this point of the story.

If you 'thought you knew', then that means it was once a genuine feeling too. Even if you're alone, doing what you love is still fun - Shiho in her Focus 3, 'That Day, The Sky Was Far Away' demonstrates this. Although she had been let down by the bandmates, she was still fine alone because music made her feel better. And she even inspired Mihane because of her enthusiasm. After all, what you love to do should make you happy to some extent.

In comparison, Rui seems to have forgotten that shows were actually fun in middle school (probably because Stick to Your Faith never happened for him). When he approached Mizuki, he was standoffish and didn't think to introduce Mizuki to the fun of shows even when they expressed some interest in it. Probably because he couldn't even remember it himself. But being able to make that decision suggests he did still have some semblance of emotions that felt like shows were fun. Once again, a walking corpse of his chiildhood.

In the end, it's like he already lost this original joy for shows since middle school, and then grew even more confused about what made him happiest with the new joy he experienced after finding a place in WxS. He hasn't been able to wholeheartedly enjoy his passion because he's been continuously rejected, and he thought he was having fun when WxS accepted him - but in the end, that fun was from finally finding a place.

Update: Tetrad gives more implications of how Rui had gone astray post-Curtain Call. Tsukasa and Rui sing together, "We're facing the same direction", but Rui appears troubled. It's like Rui can't declare that he is chasing his dreams as confidently as the rest of WxS. Deep down, a part of him probably knew this even before Backlit Lens Flare happened but was afraid of facing it.

I would further go on to associate CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY to both Kitty and Cinema which its imagery resembles. The card set takes place in Shibuya where Kitty takes place in, and Cinema uses the same director's cut + Tsukasa's trained card directly mentions Cinema on the billboard.

There's also the naming that is clearly based on Jackpot Sad Girl - which I think just goes to highlight how both Rui and Mafuyu have the power through it mindset that it lands them dead and sad respectively: people need to reconcile their differences with others to truly love and feel alive (Rui) and people can't endure stress for too long without getting depressed (Mafuyu). Both ignored their human needs and thus this is where they wound up.

The parallel with Kitty feels like it's also within the overall messaging - how facing things can lead to losing yourself even more when you aren't mentally prepared and have no clear-cut answer (sounds similar to what Rui carelessly did in Curtain Call, doesn't it?). In Mafuyu's case, she seemed about ready to change herself again to please her mother, and in Mizuki's case, opening up to Niigo would make them more sensitive to what they say and probably even change themselves so as to not be left alone. Mizuki has even expressed this sentiment once by dressing as a boy in middle school, when they already knew they loved cute things since childhood and was even reaffirmed by their sister.

In Our Survival and Escape, the point is made that it's BECAUSE Mizuki never opened up to Niigo that they were able to protect their heart. Compare this to Rui, who bore everything about himself to WxS by not holding back with his performances and past and thus gained their unconditional acceptance. As a result, he becomes swayed by them when he realizes that things would come to an end and becomes preoccupied with stopping it even at the cost of himself - his passion. If Mizuki had similarly put their utmost trust in Niigo like this, it wouldn't be surprising either if they quickly get swayed to stop expressing themselves too if one of them ever expressed dismay (hinting that they would leave).

Thus, in order to find the answer to real love, you have to protect your heart first, even if it means running away and distancing yourself from others (Kitty). But unlike Mizuki, Rui was taught from childhood to simply not care about what people say, so he has never been aware of just how much words can affect you (compare the advice Mizuki's sister and Rui's mom gave them: completely different). This winds him up in CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY, where he's unknowingly adjusting himself for WxS to not leave him.

As for Cinema, both songs capture how Akito and Rui's struggles and fears at the time feel like the exact same - being left behind and losing your place because you weren't enough, to the point of losing who you really are (Akito pushing himself to be passionate to match everyone else, Rui falling into the trap of peer pressure to match everyone else. What they envy in 'everyone else' is how they want things that Akito and Rui don't feel like they really care about and view as meaningless. But in truth, they don't care about it only because they're more concerned about belonging - they've always had it deep down in them.).

But in Akito's case, VIVID BAD SQUAD directly reaches out for him when he pushes himself far too much and forces himself to suffer to make up for his lack of talent. That's why Akito is reassured that even at his weakest and most pathetic, there will be people there who refuse to leave him alone. So Cinema feels like Akito freely lamenting on how he's different from the people, that he can't keep up with them, but with VBS by his side, he feels like it's fine to find and pursue who he truly is.

On the other hand, CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY feels like Rui's suppressed spite from having to keep up with WxS in order to not be left alone. Because everyone else will betray him, it has to be and can only be WxS who've endured him until now. It's the first time he found people who would stay, so he's desperate not to lose them that he would subconsciously change himself so he can keep matching their needs. And the realization makes him spiteful, because he's lost what was fun for him from that need to change for others to stay. And he's left to stay lost to the very end, because the only way right now for him to be himself and stop worrying is by others matching him instead, but there is no way to 100% control people - compared to Akito who found his answer by coming to terms with the impossibility to control yourself to be someone else. Because VBS was there to accept him as he was when he was trying so hard to be someone else.

Rui will probably eventually realize he has to just accept he's lost his passion from the fear of being alone and stop lamenting controlling everything around him, once he gets tired of it and reaches his limit like Akito in Stray Bad Dogs.

Suddenly everyone started up onto a nonsense scenario (Whatever you do, wherever you look, there's a traffic of influencers.)

It's just like a movie, exactly like a movie. (But still, here, there, everywhere, loners, manji, Gen Z, even monkeys want it.)

No matter where you go, there's a story. (Just give me a punchline, its meaning can be whatever.)

Cinema and CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY are like the perspectives of two boys who feel like outsiders to the world, but one is actively trying change himself to belong somewhere and the other finds himself suddenly facing peer pressure when he used to not care about belonging somewhere. It's even contrasted in Akito's customer service front and Rui's indifference to school terrorism that they are foils of one another in a society. And probably why Akito hates Rui too - for taking any means necessary to achieve what he wants without a care for people, when Akito has spent his life working hard to be equals to people in order to belong.

[More similarities in lyrics, in no particular order (CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY in brackets):

Traffic’s already jammed up now. Oh well, nothing I can do about that anyway (Whatever you do, wherever you look, there's a traffic of influencers.)

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this.” "What was it supposed to be like then?" (What happened to things you wanted to sing about?)

Back then I'm sure it was there. The thing that I envisioned was there. When was it that I... (There must have been something you wanted to sing about.)

What are you playing at? Who are you trying to be? There's no way you could be that, right? (At this rate this will never end. What you want definitely isn't money.)]

Maybe it's coincidence, but the lyrics in Cinema also reference Curtain Call very early on:

Someday it'll be bye-bye when the end comes, so Smile for the curtain call and applause.

Cinema is accepting of it and faces it head-on. Rui still avoids it.

And Cinema also captured what happened in Backlit Lens Flare with Bakuno. Something Rui couldn't figure out on his own without Sakaki and Emu:

If you're not suited for the role, Then just rewrite the script!

This is as if implying Akito realizes early on that people are all different, and there may come a time you have to part because of your differences. So you don't have to keep worrying about fitting in - try your best to be yourself instead and smile when it all ends.

This is something that Rui hasn't faced at all, so it's pretty meta that he hadn't thought of matching the actor's individualities. It seems he's lived with the belief that directors have to adjust themselves according to the level they believe the actors are on and actors have to work their hardest to live up to the director's wishes at all times - because the director knows best. Instead of truly understanding their actors for who they are as individuals and what they individually need.

"I always try to cast actors in a way that brings out their strengths." "That's why I always get you to play the role of a type that is easiest for you to match."

And this becomes a regret for Rui in the same story - realizing that he hadn't thought enough about what Tsukasa really wanted and needed.

"...I feel a little regretful that I hadn't thought that far."

Nene's surprise at Rui's words further imply that this isn't how he normally is. That he wouldn't be thinking so much about people and their personal needs.

It isn't therefore surprising that he agrees with and commits to the mindset that he has to power through his emotions without speaking to anyone. He expects that from his actors, and applying it to real life, it means that your role and scenario have already been decided from birth and what was left was living up to it. It's frighteningly similar to the lyrics in Engeki, which I wasn't even thinking about. Except it wasn't forced on him but rather something Rui decided on his own, with no harmful intent from the people who fed that mindset. Even before KAITO - it was his mother who unknowingly instilled this in him:

"People are people, I am myself. If you take care of what you like, someday you'll be able to make friends too. Like how I met your dad." (i.e. don't bother with the painful things around you, just keep doing what you do and keep going until you get there.)

And hence why this commission is full of firey anger. The story tramples on the way Rui has lived until now, proving him wrong when he thought he finally found his answer by powering through his fear of losing WxS. How it made him realize that he had at some point been driven by something petty like being with friends forever and lost the passionate part of him, the one who would do anything to satisfy himself. He's realized he's no longer having fun like the child he used to be, evident from the lyrics that start off with how he no longer has anything he wants to convey.

"Now let's all laugh. Aren't views more important than art? A terrible price for the virus. So what will you do? Is that really fine?" The lyrics are as if Rui is finally realizing that everything he's been doing, making people smile up until now, has been just for views (for WxS to stay around), and it finally makes him question, is this what he really wants??? Where did all the passion, fun and self-satisfaction that he thought he was making shows for went to???

(This is a more literal translation, the popular TL translates it as Then what do we do? Was that how it was supposed to go?)

I don't know if it's clear now - but in conclusion, CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY feels very much like Rui realizing how he was more focused on protecting his place over enjoying what he does. The first lines of the song do seem to be screaming a spitefulness in not being able to just do what you enjoy: "No one wants to listen (...), I don't have anything I want to convey (...)"

That's why CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY is an ironic name, appearing on the director's cut to imply they're filming a movie of Rui's life. How Rui had been living dead against his own self - falling victim to peer pressure (trends) to protect his place in WxS. Until Sakaki reminds him of the heights his true self wanted to reach and reignites the passionate fire for theatre inside him.

In summary, to simplify it, CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY's parallels come together to tell a complete story about Rui Kamishiro (biased but idc): 1) Jackpot Sad Girl: The unhealthiness of Rui and Mafuyu's mindset of powering through what they think they want without properly talking to people. 2) Kitty: How putting your trust in people can sway your heart and steer you away from what you truly want, something Mizuki knows and thus avoids but not Rui. 3) Cinema: A combination of Jackpot Sad Girl and Kitty - how a person with Rui's mindset is left feeling angry and confused when realizing he has lost himself from having his heart unexpectedly swayed by people. This is foiled by a complete opposite like Akito who has lived a life with no reason to truly call his own and is bitterly aware of how it is all because his life has always been completely defined by other people.

(Man, I LOVE the Cinema foils so much. Akito and Rui are such perfect opposites I LOVE THEM.)

And finally, from the end of CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY:

Devoid of soul, music remains silent Unheard lyrics conceal their essence; without playback, music loses its meaning. Thus, modern music is pronounced deceased.

YES. YES. DEVOID OF SOUL AS I SAID, HOW RUI KAMISHIRO FEELS LIKE A WALKING CORPSE OF HIS CHILDHOOD. PLAYBACK!!! LOOK BACK AT YOUR PAST AND FIND YOURSELF!!! REMEMBER THE JOY AND PASSION YOU CAN'T GIVE UP RUI-KUN!!! Stop trying to keep people around, face solitude and be brave: what's most important is to be yourself!

Backlit Lens Flare felt like a reawakening for Rui, and it's why it's one of the best stories alongside Pandemonium for me. If Tsukasa is completely avoidant, then Rui is full of blatant lies. But of course because the writers will never clearly describe the emotions in WxS stories, I can't confirm this is the intended interpretation. It's just my own personal interpretation that I enjoy best and makes most emotional sense to my personal experiences.

But my opinions are bound to change because there are soooo many ways of seeing things. For now, this is what I think of Rui Kamishiro in Backlit Lens Flare and CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY.

#project sekai #rui kamishiro #kamishiro rui #wonderlands x showtime #wxs #it's so difficult to talk about rui #i do kinda get how this feels but i guess it's hard to put into words because of how dull the feeling is and you don't even know its there #until you do something thats out of character for yourself #someone whos always trying to convince themselves they dont care when people hurt them will get it #ok i take back my comments on the popular tl of cyberpunk dead boy being biased its just difficult to translate lol #rui is literally set for failure and doomed by the narrative #im sorry i keep editing i just find it so hard to put my thoughts about rui into words

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hattythewriter · 1 year

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Dreemurr Sibling Interview Project

I'm requesting that all readers and fans of the Wholehearted series assist me with a new project! One of the stories that I release in the Origins collection will feature Asriel and Frisk being guests on a talk show, hosted by Sans and Mettaton! Not only that, but they'll be reading questions from you, the reader!

This is where we need your help. Submit as many questions as you wish to Wholehearted Frisk and Wholehearted Asriel, and they'll answer them for you when they have their interview on "The Fresh Puns of Bel-Ebott, ft. pop idol and 'The Bachelor' host Mettaton."

The "ask me anything" for Asriel and Frisk opens NOW, January 1st. Submitting questions to the Dreemurr siblings will stay open until March 5th at 11:59pm. So for the next two months, you'll be able to submit Frisk and Asriel any question you have for them! You may submit questions here on tumblr, or talk to me in Discord DMs if you're friends with me on there. The project will hopefully be completed on March 26th!

#Wholehearted Origins #Wholehearted saga #Wholehearted Half-Souls #Wholehearted half souls #ama #frisk whhs #asriel whhs #undertale #undertale au #canon compliant #canon universe #post canon #male frisk #frisk #asriel #interview #asriel dreemurr #frisk dreemurr

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tysartb00k · 1 year

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using weekend from college to reintroduce a returning character: Wilbur! the short, immortal witch! i missed drawing her lol

#beck wholehearted hero #wilbur the witch #original character #original art #concept art #character design #witch #tysartb00k

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leeshajoy · 2 years

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Broke: The idea of sexy vampires comes from the sexual tension between Count Dracula and Mina Harker in Bram Stoker's Dracula.

Woke: The idea of sexy vampires comes from adaptations of Dracula inserting Dracula/Mina tension that didn't exist in the original novel.

Bespoke: The idea of sexy vampires comes from Jonathan Harker's wholehearted desire to follow his wife into undeath if she fully turns.

#dracula daily #dracula #mina harker #jonathan harker #count dracula #vampires

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ereardon · 1 year

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My Girl [Chapter 15][Jake "Hangman" Seresin x OC]

Summary: Jake Seresin could be the answer to all of your dating woes. He’s the full package: steady job, mature, dependable, attractive to a fault. The polar opposite of every guy your age and he’s everything you’ve ever wanted in a partner. But there’s one roadblock: he’s a single father to four-year-old Ellie. Jake is looking for a level of commitment you’re not quite sure you’re ready to give, and he’s not willing to bring someone into his daughter’s life who isn’t there for the long haul. And even if you are stepmom material, is Jake ready to let someone back in his life while still mourning the recent loss of his late wife?

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x OC [Lawyer Natalie West]

WC: 2.8K

Warning: Age gap, cursing, angst

Series masterlist here

Jake got to the studio thirty minutes early to make sure he could get a front row seat. He wanted Ellie to see him front and center when she was on stage. He wanted her to know that she had him in the crowd, no matter what. That he would always be there supporting her.

He wanted to be enough.

It all started two weeks earlier. Bradley, Phoenix and Bob had plans to go with Jake to Ellie’s dance recital but then they had gotten called up to a mission that overlapped directly with the recital.

“I’m sorry we can’t make it to your recital, Princess,” Bob said, squatting down next to Ellie where she sat on the couch. “Wish we could be there.”

“It’s OK Uncle Bobby!” Jake felt small tears prick his eyes and he turned away, feigning a cough. Phoenix shot him a look from where she sat next to Ellie on the couch, one full of knowing and pain.

“Can we get a sneak peak?” Bradley asked, ruffling Ellie’s hair from behind the couch and she laughed. “Show us what we’re missing, honey.”

Ellie hopped up off of the couch and started to twirl around on bare feet in the living room. Behind her, Bradley, Bob and Phoenix watched with rapt attention and Jake stepped forward at one point, hand out, and Ellie took it, using him as a stable point to cling to as she twirled in circles.

The trio on the couch erupted into cheers and applause as Ellie smiled in Jake’s arms. When he set her down, she looked up at him softly. “Will you be there, Daddy?”

“Of course, peanut,” he said gently. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Is Nat still coming?” Ellie asked and Jake’s face fell. Ellie’s dance class had been planning its annual recital for months, and he had originally planned to go with Natalie. Ellie had been ecstatic, rambling on about her sparkly costume to Natalie, who always listened with careful and wholehearted attention.

Jake shook his head slowly. “I don’t think so, baby.” Ellie’s smile turned into a quick frown. “But I’ll be there. And I promise we can go out for ice cream afterward.”

She gave him a small grin. “With sprinkles?”

Jake nodded, catching Bradley’s eye as he gave him a sad smile. “Anything you want, honey.”

***

“Are you liking New York any better?” Peter popped a chip into his mouth and then offered you the bag. You reached one manicured hand in and emerged with a few tortilla chips, dropping them into a small pile near your laptop.

“Eh, it’s fine,” you replied and he laughed.

“There’s eight million New Yorkers out there waiting to fight you for that statement.”

You rolled your eyes and chuckled. Peter had quickly become the person you trusted the most on the New York team, and therefore the only person you roped into late nights at the office. But it was nice not having to do the late nights alone. And having Peter around cut down on the paperwork exponentially. “It’s just overrated, let’s say that.”

“I’m hurt,” he said, one hand over his heart and the giant Patagonia logo on his grey vest.

“You’re from fucking New Canaan,” you retorted and he laughed loudly.

“Busted.”

You leaned forward, grabbing a folder, your hand accidentally skimming Peter’s. You pulled back immediately, but he was a bit slower to react.

“Hey, you never told me what happened with Jake,” he said softly.

That had been five weeks ago. While you trusted and liked Peter, you were a strong believer in keeping state and church separate for the most part. He didn’t need to know the gory details about your personal life, and vice versa. But the truth was, while you were in New York, he was the closest thing you had to a friend. Cassie was likely asleep, it was well past her bedtime, and she had already given you all the advice she could on the situation. It was in your hands now.

“Sorry, not to pry.”

You shook your head. “It’s OK. Um, we broke up.”

There was a pause. Peter’s blue eyes searched yours. “Shit, that sucks, I’m sorry.”

You drew in a shaky breath. Even weeks later you still felt the pain like it was fresh every time Jake crossed your mind, which was constantly. “It’s OK. I mean it isn’t, but that’s what you’re supposed to say, right?”

“You’re supposed to say whatever you actually feel,” he said and you looked up in surprise. “What, I can’t say profound shit?”

You laughed. “You can, it just doesn’t do well for your street cred.”

“My street cred was ruined the night my bodega guy saw me crying over a girl ghosting me on Bumble,” Peter said and you winced, causing him to chuckle. “Cringe, I know.”

“Just a little.”

Peter leaned back in his rolling chair, crossing one ankle over his knee. “So why did you and the pilot call it quits?”

You sighed. “I thought about what you said, about asking myself what I wanted. And the truth is, I want Jake to be happy. And I just know that I can’t make him happy. Not right now at least. And he deserves better than someone who strings him along, always saying it’ll get better or it’ll be the right time soon. My ex was like that and I stupidly believed him. I didn’t want to drag Jake through the mud in the same way that Sam did to me.”

“But you still love him?”

“It’s complicated.” You pushed down on your laptop, closing it softly.

“But it’s over?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “It is.”

Peter nodded and then looked out at the stack of paperwork that had dwindled significantly since you two had entered the conference room hours before. “Looks like it’s time for us to pack up. I’ll walk with you downstairs? It’s late, don’t want you heading back alone on the street at this time.”

He waited by the elevator bank as you packed up your YSL tote bag at your desk. It hurt every time you saw it, but Ellie’s drawing from the day she had come to the office with you still hung near your monitor. It was a marker drawing of the day the three of you had gone to the zoo. You looked away before it made you cry.

Downstairs, Peter held open the glass door and the two of you said goodnight in tandem to the doorman. He gave a wave, and the warm June air pulled you into an embrace on Broad Street.

“I’m this way,” you said, hooking a finger over your shoulder and pointing uptown.

“Let me walk you.”

You shook your head. “That’s OK, it’s just two blocks.”

“Please?” he said and you smiled. “I wouldn’t feel comfortable leaving you alone this late downtown.”

“OK.” The two of you set out at a slow pace North on Broad Street. You and Peter had stayed late in the office a handful of times in the past, and he had never once insisted on walking you to your hotel.

Once the bright lights of the hotel were in sight, you looked up at Peter. He was tall, and his face was set in a pensive frown. “This is me,” you said, stopping under the awning near the marble stairs. The lobby was lit up, glowing from the inside, but empty. You snuck a peek at your watch — it was almost two in the morning. “Thanks for walking me. Want me to wait while you get an Uber?” You knew for a fact that Peter lived in the West Village, which had a shit option for trains from FiDi.

He shook his head, stepping in closer. Before you knew it, Peter’s hand was on your neck, his face closing in on yours, his lips grazing your own.

Peter was a good kisser: soft and gentle. No tongue off the bat. His hand was warm on your neck, his fingers gentle where they pressed against your skin.

But when he pulled back, he saw tears welling up in your eyes.

Kissing Peter only served to show you what you had lost with Jake. That even something that five years ago would have been a whirlwind kiss was now reduced to mediocre. Everything paled in comparison to the way it was with Jake.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he said, dropping his hand. “I just thought … Fuck, I shouldn’t have done that.”

You reached up and wiped away your tears and then dropped your hands and pulled Peter’s into your own. “Hey, it’s OK. I’m sorry, too. I hope I wasn’t giving you any wrong signals. It’s just, I’m not over him.”

Peter shook his head. “No, I know that. Fuck, I thought, I don’t know what I thought. I’m sorry, Natalie.”

You gave him a small smile. “Don’t be. You actually made me just realize something.”

Peter gave you a questioning look and you simply leaned forward, kissing his cheek, before disappearing into the hotel lobby.

You had a flight to catch.

***

“And next up we have Mrs. Bell’s class!”

Cheers erupted from the crowd and Jake grinned as Ellie’s dance class made their way on stage. Ellie was third from the left, slightly off-center, and she smiled widely when she spotted Jake in the front row. He gave her a tiny wave and a grin as the music started up.

Out of the fourteen girls in the class, it was obvious Mrs. Bell had put the ones who understood the routine in the front. In the back row, three of the girls flailed their way through the song, all arms and legs, no rhythm. Jake had to stifle down a few laughs along the way, but Ellie did excellent.

Halfway through the routine, Jake watched Ellie break character, her smile growing wider, one hand risen in a tiny wave. Her eyes were glued to the back of the studio, and he turned around in his seat to see what she could possibly be waving at.

Perhaps the better question would be who was she waving at.

Jake’s heart threatened to jump out of his chest. His breath quickened, his pulse was sky high, his hands started to sweat. Anyone looking at him would have thought he had seen a ghost.

You were standing near the closed doors, a wide smile on your face, wearing a white linen dress that flowed to your ankles, blonde hair down and curled, your eyes locked on Ellie. You gave her a small wave back before darting into one of the rows in the back and sitting down for the rest of the performance.

Jake couldn’t concentrate, but he forced himself to stand and clap once Ellie’s class finished their dance. He had to hold himself together enough not to turn around and look for you in the back. Not to sprint down the aisle and search through every folding chair until he found yours.

Instead, Jake faced forward, his mind spinning as he watched the other classes routines, counting down the seconds until the lights went up and he could find you in the crowd.

Finally, the lights came off dim and Jake shot up in his seat, one of the first to stand. But once he turned around, everyone else was standing, too, blocking his view of the back row. He sighed and made his way out to the hallway, looking for Ellie. He spotted Mrs. Bell first, with her bright red hair, and watched as she opened a side door, all of the little girls in their tiny tutus spilling out into the hallway. Jake recognized Ellie’s blonde curls immediately, making his way toward her.

“Daddy!” She flung her arms around his neck where he knelt down to hug her, and Jake wrapped his daughter in his arms.

“You did so great, Princess!” he murmured, pulling back from the embrace and smoothing a hand over her hair. “I’m so proud of you.”

Ellie practically vibrated she was so elated. “Daddy, I saw Natalie! She was by the door.”

Until the words left her mouth, Jake had wondered if he had imagined you. How ethereal and beautiful you had looked, standing there. A part of him had almost been able to fool himself into thinking that you were simply a mirage, a daydream.

Until he felt a tap on his shoulder.

“Nat!” Ellie jumped up and down and Jake watched as you bent over, sweeping her into your arms, matching grins on both of your faces.

“Hi peanut,” you said softly. “You did amazing!”

“You came!” Ellie was practically shouting and you laughed.

“Of course I did,” you said. “I promised, didn’t I?”

She nodded frantically then looked at Jake. “Yes, but Daddy said you might not come.”

Jake’s heart did somersaults in his chest as you raised your eyes to his finally. “Well, I’m here now, pumpkin. And I’m really glad I came. You did great.”

You placed Ellie back on the ground and looked up at Jake. “Hi Jake,” you said quietly, leaning over and pressing your lips to his cheek. Barely grazing his skin, but his fingers reached out automatically and breezed over your waist.

As you pulled away, Jake’s hope sank a little further. It took everything in his power not to reach out and pull you to his chest, plant his lips on yours, let his hands roam the expanse of your back. He was desperate to feel you beneath his fingertips again. Remember what it was like to hold you and kiss you and know that you were his.

You no longer belonged to him, and he knew it.

There was a beautiful sadness that had enveloped you. It had been six weeks since the fight. Almost three months since you left for New York the first time. And Jake still longed for you every waking minute of his days. Seeing you there, standing next to Ellie, her small hand enveloped in yours, was too much of a reminder of what he had lost.

He couldn’t believe you had come back like you said you would. That you had even remembered.

He didn’t realize that you were the kind of person who would always keep a promise, no matter what.

“Did you see my twirl?” Ellie asked you excitedly and you nodded sweetly.

“I did, peanut. You were great. Do you want to keep dancing? Maybe try tap?”

“Don’t give her any ideas,” Jake groaned and you chuckled. The sound of your laughter was a thousand rainbows raining down on his ears.

“Sorry,” you whispered. There was a moment of silence while you looked at Jake and he gazed back. Those seconds told you everything you needed to know. He still loved you. And you knew that you still loved him. But did he know it?

Jake broke the silence by clearing his throat, Ellie’s hand warm in your own. “I promised Ellie I would take her to get some ice cream,” Jake said quietly. “Um, would you like to join us?”

“That sounds lovely, but I can’t. I’m sorry.” Your eyes met Jake’s and there was nothing there but a flood of sadness. An overwhelming sadness that threatened to bury him. An avalanche of emotion.

You squatted down and rested your hands on Ellie’s small arms.

“Have a good time, sweetie. I’ll see you soon, OK?”

Ellie looked up with hopeful eyes and nodded silently, her curls bouncing. You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the top of her head before standing, adjusting the strap of your purse on your shoulder and turning to Jake. Jake looked at you with the same matching hopeful eyes as his daughter, but with another dash of something.

Remorse.

To his surprise, you stepped forward and wound your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. Jake pulled you in tightly, his arms binding you to him for a second, trying desperately to memorize how you felt pressed against him, before you leaned back, dropping your arms from his neck, a miserable look tattooed on your face.

“Bye, Jake,” you whispered and his mind flitted back to that night six weeks before when you had said the same thing as you reversed out of the driveway, tears flooding your eyes.

Jake held Ellie’s hand as he watched you walk out into the parking lot and be enveloped by the setting sun until the skyline was so bright he couldn’t make out your figure anymore, his vision bleached in shades of orange and red, until he couldn’t see or hear anything, the only thing keeping him grounded was the soft feeling of Ellie’s tiny hand in his, tugging him along, pulling him ahead, giving him purpose.

***

The sound of your heels clacking on the shiny floor sounded like gunshots.

Every step you took should have elevated your heart rate, but it didn’t. You felt like a marathon runner, despite never having run more than a mile at a time in your life. You felt unstoppable in a weird way.

Determination was like that. So was resignation.

Through the glass wall — why were all the fucking walls glass in this place, you wondered — you could see Patrick sipping a drink by the window, his back to you.

He turned around with the sound of the door slamming shut.

“Natalie?” His voice was thin and surprised. “I thought you were in New York until the twentieth.”

“Came back early,” you said.

Patrick raised an eyebrow. “On whose authority?”

“Mine.”

He let out a sharp laugh. “And who says you have the authority?”

You smiled. “I did, when I quit.”

“What?” He was incredulous.

“I quit, Patrick,” you said, leaning forward and pressing your hands to the enormous wooden desk, eyes hardened and locked on his watery ones. “I’m not going to be a pawn in some sick game you’re playing that hinges on bigotry. Finance used to be an Old Boy’s Club and we all knew it, but things are changing. Someday, and I hope it’s soon, you’re going to have to fess up and realize that this is no longer the workplace you started in. You’re going to get what’s coming, Patrick. Maybe I’m just the first woman to stand up to you and say it.”

His eyes shifted around in anger or fear, you couldn’t decipher which.

“I took a job with Parker Lane.” They were the firm’s largest competitor. “And I told them all about you and your non-questions about my future and family life and they found it very interesting.”

Now you knew what you saw in his eyes. Rage. Pure, unadulterated rage. Patrick sunk down into the plush leather chair behind his desk, almost sputtering in anger.

“I’ll see you around, Patrick,” you said, lifting off of the desk and turning toward the door. “Oh, and Patrick?” Your hand was on the doorknob as you turned around to look at him. He was seething. “I did some digging and it turns out I’m not the first person you’ve made veiled threats to about employment matters. Expect some paperwork on your desk from Chairman Bill for that on Monday. I wouldn’t get too comfortable in that chair. Might not be yours for too long.”

The hallway had never looked so wide, so free, so thrilling as it did on your way out.

You got in your car and hit ignore on the GPS when it asked what route you’d like to take home.

You knew exactly where you were going.

A/N: Patrick can suck it! Also there is hope on the horizon for these two 🥰 And shoutout to @blue-aconite for the recital idea from a very sad, but sweet Jake x Natalie dream xx

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