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cryoculus · 2 years ago

Text

— guard dog 02 ⟢

pairing: thoma x assassin!reader

summary: in which thoma proves to be one of the most insufferable captors in teyvat. how someone like him sees himself in someone like you is a complete mystery.

word count: 3.5k words

notable characters: thoma, kamisato ayaka, kamisato ayato

tags: found family, enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, eventual smut

warnings: nightmares

notes: so, i've decided to cross-post these two per day instead of one per day :')

header art cr: pncgnsn on twt

masterlist

“R-Retainer?”

You didn’t miss the uncharacteristic stutter of Ayaka’s voice when she’d said the word. You couldn’t blame her.

To your side, Thoma nodded too enthusiastically to be genuine. “You heard right, milady. I discussed it with her earlier this morning, and Miss Kira has agreed to be your temporary retainer. Only until the Kujou clan is out of her hair, of course.”

“It would be an honor to serve you, Lady Kamisato,” you managed through gritted teeth that could somehow pass for a smile. Thoma still nudged you with his elbow as a warning, though. “Even if it’s only for the meantime, I owe it to your family for nursing my injuries. I’d like to repay your kindness however I can.”

Ayaka seemed at a loss for words, blinking at you with those silver-blue eyes of hers like it was the first time someone showed her a hint of gratitude. You almost felt bad for being a fraud. Almost.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” she sighed, staring at the cup of tea in her hands before meeting your gaze again. “Your duty lies with the war between the Sangonomiya resistance and the shogunate. You mustn’t waste your time tending to the whims of someone like me.”

“Oh, but I will,” you insisted, just as the bastard chief retainer instructed you to do. “Besides, with how my, ah, infiltration turned out, the resistance might’ve listed me off as M.I.A. No one’s going to be searching for me for a good while, milady.”

After that little…conversation you had with Thoma, you reverted back to your false persona as Kira of the resistance come morning. Though you had absolutely no moral obligation to stand by the terms of your agreement, you decided to play along for now.

Naturally, your voice of reason rebelled against the notion. Letting yourself be manipulated into the situation you’re in without a fight? As if.

But…you weren’t about to call for back-up like you should, either.

Kujou Sara’s feather never left your person. Once Thoma had gotten you a fresh change of clothes, you made sure to slip it inside the intricate folds of your garbs—never to be seen by anyone else.

When the chief retainer confiscated your powdered crystal marrow, you didn’t resist. Surrendering your murder weapon would take off the suspicion that you were carrying something else, and Thoma even met your cooperation with a promise of ‘a lighter sentence’. Whatever that meant.

Not that it mattered, though. Because even if you kept Masahito’s contingency plan around, your pride as a mercenary prevented you from using it.

You were beyond repulsed as you recalled how quickly you bit the bullet the night Thoma had cornered you in the kitchen. Years of relying on no one but yourself, flushed down the drain—all because of some crafty blond foreigner! You rated the humbling experience a 0 out of 10.

And then there was his master plan to turn you into Kamisato Ayaka’s friend.

That part was the most confusing. Was Ayaka so sheltered that Thoma had to wrangle in a fugitive like you just so you could be friends with her?

“I suppose there’s no harm in accepting,” Ayaka murmured, cheeks red with embarrassment. “D-Do tell me if there’s anything I can do to assist. I can even have someone contact the resistance for you—”

“There’s no need for that.” Thankfully, Thoma had the foresight to beat you to it. “Communicating with Sangonomiya might endanger the clan’s relationship with the shogunate. We can shelter Miss Kira for the meantime, but we mustn’t act publicly, milady. Else, it will implicate the entirety of the Yashiro Commission.”

You hated to be in agreement with the man who strung you around like a puppet, but… “He’s right. You’ve done way more than I can ever hope to repay, Lady Kamisato. The last thing I want is for you to be under open fire.”

The princess nodded glumly, and her expression tied your stomach into knots.

Lying through your teeth used to be something you did without a morsel of shame. But having to feed Ayaka all this blatant dishonesty on a silver platter…

You didn’t want to dwell on it.

Once your quick audience in the pavilion had been adjourned, you pulled Thoma to the side.

“This isn’t permanent, right?” you hissed quietly. “I’m not going to be stuck here forever, right?”

A smirk curled on his face. “Hey, the Kamisato Estate would make a better prison than the police station in Inazuma City. I have all the evidence needed to hand you over to the authorities, but thankfully, I’m kind enough to give you another chance.”

You almost slipped up when he mentioned the police station. Right. You never told Thoma who hired you to kill Ayaka in the first place, nor did he press on the matter. It would do you no favors if you told him that no, the police won’t arrest me since I’m actually in cahoots with the Tenryou Commission!

So, with bitter resentment coiling in your gut, you let him go. You’ll figure something out and bust out of here in one week, tops. Maybe.

“Oh, by the way.”

You turned around with a disgruntled look. “What?”

Thoma had that no-good smile plastered on his face when you met his gaze again. “Now that you’re officially a Kamisato retainer, do you have an idea about what responsibilities come with that title?”

Oh, no. You were not liking the sound of that.

Swallowing thickly, you replied, “No. Why?”

The horns on his headband might as well have grown in size because this man was an absolute devil. Thoma’s mischievous grin scaled tenfold and you prayed to the Electro Archon herself to just strike you down with lightning from where you stood.

This was going to be a long week.

“Have you ever been inside the palace on Watatsumi Island?”

Ayaka posed the question on your third day as her temporary retainer. You looked at her with a hint of curiosity and barely concealed exhaustion once she’d uttered the words. Though you’re willing to play along with this charade for as long as you had to, your escapades from the last few days practically drained the life out of you.

You never really knew what a retainer’s purpose was. You’d always just assumed they were scoundrels who rode on the coattails of their charge—basking in their status just to flaunt the privilege to others. Perhaps you were right about that when it came to the other noble houses in Inazuma. In the Yashiro Commission, however…

“Hey,” the princess called out with concern, as she made poured you a cup of tea. “Thoma has been overexerting you, hasn’t he? I know these chores are part of a retainer’s work, but he can be a bit…mean sometimes.”

You blinked at Ayaka slowly, gaze drifting from the princess and onto the teacup she’d offered. While the amber surface glimmered softly in the lantern lights, the mere mention of Thoma’s name was enough to snap you back into your senses.

That scheming little…!

He’d subjected you into countless hours of manual labor, despite the fact that you were someone who’s supposed to be recovering. That seemed to go over Thoma’s pretty blond head and, by extension, your own because the man has a knack for driving you up a wall.

“Miss Kira~ Ayame needs some help airing out the futons and doing the laundry. The other attendants are running errands, so you’re the only one who can do this.”

“The grass around the estate seems like it needs some leveling. You’re up for the job, aren’t you?”

“Ah, Miss Kira. Just in time! Lord Ayato is very particular about sorting his book collection. We have boxes of new arrivals at the entrance. Can you help take them up to the second floor?”

“Do you happen to know your way around the kitchen, Miss Kira?”

Not only were you swamped with your newfound responsibilities as a maid retainer, but you’re also expected to carry out your agreement with Thoma, still. In the daytime, you were but a humble refugee paying back the Kamisato clan’s kindness, and by twilight you were Ayaka’s so-called friend.

If you hadn’t known any better, you might’ve assumed that she was behind your captivity in the first place. That Ayaka had been the one to order Thoma to blackmail you into becoming a servant of the house.

But horrible people like that were easy to pick out. Takes one to know one, they said. And now, with Ayaka staring at you like a mother hen, you knew that she didn’t have a single scheming bone in her body.

Kujou Sara’s feather felt heavier in the folds of your yukata. Suddenly, you weren’t so sure if it’ll take you just a week to do your job and break out of this place.

“This is nothing,” you insisted, seating yourself by the pavilion steps to appease the princess. “You were asking about Her Excellency’s palace, right?”

Once Ayaka had gone to bed, and you’re left to tidy up the tea set you’d used with her, Thoma swooped in like a lone wolf in the night.

“You’re a pretty good liar, you know,” he commented, pouring himself a glass of water. “If I wasn’t as perceptive as I am, you would’ve had me completely fooled.”

You glared at him. “Don’t use my talents to stroke your own ego, asshole.”

“Hey, not everyone can fabricate a tale about Sangonomiya Palace. Looks like someone’s been reading up on their childhood storybooks,” he complimented with a smile that made you roll your eyes.

“That reminds me,” Thoma mused as he completely ignored your prior aggression. “Where are you from, exactly? I’ve heard of the wandering mercenary who always manages to stay out of the shogunate’s radar. I honestly thought you were an urban myth until you decided to personally grace me with your presence.”

You scoffed. “You’re not the one I’m after.”

“Hmm… That may be true, but I’m the one who’s keeping you in check right now, aren’t I?”

There was that look again—the one that made your blood pressure rise to unimaginable heights. Thoma wasn’t exactly someone you’d describe as sleazy.

As cunning as he was, the blond still had an air of maturity to him that you normally wouldn’t associate with crafty fixers. Maybe all that noble honor bullshit from the Kamisatos gradually rubbed off on him.

That didn’t mean he was above being a conniving bastard, though.

“So, will you humor me with a quick background check or no?”

“I’m not an idiot,” you hissed. “If you want to get dirt on me, you’re going to have to try somewhere else, pretty boy.”

The words slipped before you could even think about them, and the effect was almost immediate. A sordid smirk replaced his typically carefree smile, and you’ve never wanted to get swallowed up by the ground more than you did now.

“Oh? First it was ‘guard dog’, and now ‘pretty boy’? I certainly don’t mind the development, though,” Thoma simpered, tipping his head back while he drank his water.

You hated how it took you a moment to peel your gaze away from the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed.

Once you managed to put away the ceramic tea set, Thoma was still hovering around the kitchen. Like a ghost that just wouldn’t leave you alone.

Neither of you said anything. You merely held his stoic, emerald gaze in the silence. Now that you thought about it, you’d never really taken a good look at the guy. He pissed you off beyond belief. Why should you take the time to stare at him?

But here, in the muted light of the kitchen lanterns, you’re granted a glimpse of how Thoma’s hair was still so vibrant in the near-darkness. How his eyes looked like they belonged to someone born miles away from the shores of Inazuma. But when your gaze slowly drifted to the pendant sitting beneath the jut of his collarbones—

“Ah, I best be off,” Thoma spoke up—making that blip of curiosity fade back into nothingness. “See you in the morning, Miss Kira.”

Before you could wrench out a response, the chief retainer had already left.

“You want me to spar with you?” Your tone was laced with disbelief, and Ayaka hid her face behind her fan as she laughed.

“Why, yes,” she admitted, legs swinging ever-so slightly by the elevated platform. “It would be an honor to spar with someone as learned with the sword as you.”

You frowned. “I’m a nobody in the ranks of the resistance. I don’t even have a Vision. Sparring with me doesn’t exactly warrant much honor, milady.”

“Your stories don’t seem to convey the same thing, Miss Kira,” Ayaka interjected. “And if you’re the nobody you claim to be, why would Lady Sangonomiya entrust you with such an important espionage mission?”

Because I lied to your face. Have been for days now, you wanted to tell her but didn’t, for obvious reasons. “If I was as important as you assumed, then they would have already rescued me without a fuss,” you sighed—diligently trimming the shrubs in the garden the way old lady Furuta taught you the other day.

“Now, now. You’re milady’s friend, aren’t you? Humor her a little.”

You shot Thoma an irritated look, which you quickly masked with a smile. This guy just had such impeccable timing as always, huh?

“Master Thoma,” you addressed him nasally. “Forgive my insolence but I just don’t think I’m fit to be Kamisato Ayaka’s—”

He effectively shut you up by plucking the shears in your grasp, exchanging it for a very real and very sharp Kageuchi sword. You gaped at him like a koi out of the fish pond.

“Well?” he probed. “You’re not about to keep milady waiting, I suppose?”

You weren’t sure if you’d just gotten rusty after days without practice or if Ayaka was just that good. It’s been a while since you’d held a sword, and you knew perfectly well how your technique could dwindle if you didn’t constantly hone it into habit.

But you had the inkling that, even if you’d been in tip top shape, the princess would have no trouble making you yield, still.

The pebbles on your backside dug into the fabric of your yukata as Ayaka pointed the edge of her blade against your chest. Heart pounding loudly in your ears, you sighed—letting your head fall back into the sand as you let the borrowed sword clatter from your grip.

“You’re mean,” you told her as she helped you back up. “You knew I was a walk in the park, didn’t you?”

Ayaka blushed. “Ah, I apologize if it seemed that way. It’s not everyday that someone agrees to spar with me…”

“Ehh?” You purposely drawled your tone as you gave her chief retainer—who was watching you get your ass beat on the sidelines—the stink eye. “Master Thoma doesn’t even indulge you? How cruel of him.”

“It’s quite the opposite, actually,” Thoma replied. “We’ve exchanged blows so much that she’s already grown bored of our sparring sessions.”

“T-Thoma!”

“Don’t say it’s not true, milady. Hm… What’s that?”

Turning your gaze to where Thoma pointed his gloved hand, you practically felt the blood in your veins run cold. You darted back to the sand garden you’d ruined with your fall—plucking a lone black feather off the ground before Ayaka or Thoma could get a closer look.

“Ah, it’s a feather I found while sweeping the entrance the other day,” you explained hastily as you slipped it back inside your clothes. “Where I’m from, feathers are said to bring good luck is all…”

Ayaka seemed quite interested. “You mean, Watatsumi Island?”

“No, I’m actually from Yashiori.”

Thoma arched an eyebrow at your admission, and you had to conceal how mortified you were at your own slip-up. The part about feathers bringing good luck was already a senseless bluff on its own. Why didn’t your brain just continue the string of lies?

Relax, relax, you thought to yourself. Thoma couldn’t possibly know that what you said was actually true, right?

By now, you should have known better.

It’s always raining on Yashiori Island.

The never-ending storm has been there for as long as you could remember. You didn’t even know what the sun looked like anymore.

It was for that reason that people from the neighboring islands rarely set foot in this place. After all, what person in their right mind would go out of their way to visit the Orobashi’s graveyard? But as young as you were, you didn’t believe in all the tall tales.

It wasn’t the rain that kept people from visiting Yashiori. It was something else. Evil and intangible—a curse that turned your blood into ichor and ground your mind to dust.

One by one, the people from Higi Village succumbed to the malignant illness. When the village chief buried your father’s corpse, you’d asked Mother if there was any hope left, but she only shook her head in resignation.

The traveling doctors had played an important part in keeping the villagers alive, though. They said that lavender melon soup should be able to cure the Tatarigami’s corruption, and you believed them. Because the people around you started believing that this wasn’t the end of the line. There was still hope.

But one night, blood dribbled from Mother’s nose as she tucked you into bed, and the next thing you knew, she’d hemorrhaged all over the sheets.

Doctor Naoko, one of the traveling doctors, took you in after that—telling you that you should live on for your parents’ sake. It’s not as if you had much of a choice in the matter, though.

He lived in a house that was too close to the Great Serpent’s skeleton for comfort. But you knew orphans didn’t have the right to complain. Instead, you helped them treat the villagers with their miracle soup—brewing lavender melons all day to serve to everyone that needed it.

Your solace, however, lasted for no longer than two months.

“Care is also a form of remedy,” Doctor Naoko told you—blood leaking from his eyes as he handed you a blade with trembling hands. The metal felt unforgivingly cold on your fingertips, and your limbs shook from where you stood.

You had your suspicions that he’d been corrupted by the curse, but to go as far as asking you to end his life…?

“You care, don’t you, little one?”

But Doctor Naoko never died at your hand. Never had to feel a blade pierce through his flesh. No, he ended up dying of blood loss and organ failure before you could even move an inch.

You’ve never even held a sword even once before the entire ordeal.

But shortly after…it became your lifeline.

The mansion was deathly quiet.

You made sure to silence your footsteps as you emerged from the kitchen with a glass of water, not wanting to rouse any of the other retainers in the first floor.

It’s funny how you suddenly started caring about the well-being of these people, but after that little nightmare, you actually wanted to focus on everything else but yourself.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to accomplish with this, but you best tread carefully, Thoma. She’s still a ruthless killer no matter how much you try to tame her.”

Upon hearing the tones of conversation at the end of the hall, you paused. It’s been about two weeks since your (temporary) inauguration into the Yashiro Commission, and you’ve never once seen Kamisato Ayato’s face in person.

He’s been quite the elusive one—always preferring to eat his meals alone as he locked himself in his study. And if Ayato wasn’t wasting away in his lonesome, he spent his time outside the mansion. But as absent as he often was, you did, however, know what the Commissioner’s voice sounded like.

“So were the rest of our retainers,” you heard Thoma sigh. “Isn’t it the Kamisato clan’s personal preference to hire both ex-convicts and people with criminal records alike? What’s with the sudden change of heart, milord?”

…Ex-convicts? People with criminal records?

Suddenly, the sound of rustling fabric. You could almost picture Ayato holding Thoma by the collar.

“Our real retainers have long been cleared of their charges, and have expressed a genuine development in character,” he spoke slowly. “That woman, however… She’s the first assassin that got past the gates, and the first one you’ve willingly let get so close to my sister.”

“Aha, I take it you’re worried, then?” Thoma bantered as if he wasn’t talking to his boss. “I’m a good judge of character. If I believe that someone was truly capable of killing your sister, I never would have let them live at all.”

Somehow, hearing that made your skin prickle with goosebumps. There’s something about the contrast between his playful tone and the gravity of his words that made you realize he was dead serious.

“And what makes you think she won’t try to finish the job?”

Thick silence permeated the air for so long, you wondered if they quietly left and adjourned the conversation somewhere else.

But just before you could poke your head outside the hall, you heard Thoma speak once more—so softly, you barely caught the words.

“Well…” He cleared his throat, as if…he’s flustered. But how could someone brimming with confidence like Thoma be—

“She reminds me a little bit of…myself.”

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#genshin impact #genshin #genshin fanfic #genshin smut #genshin fanfiction #genshin x reader #thoma fanfic #thoma smut #thoma x reader #genshin scenarios #genshin headcanons #genshin thoma #cryoculus #guard dog

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ot7always · 5 years ago

Text

Ignorantly, Yours

Word Count: 10.6k

Pairing: Alpha!Jimin x Omega!Reader

Genre: Wolf!AU, Best Friends to Lovers!AU; fluff, smut, angst

Warnings: dom!Jimin, sub!reader, A/B/O dynamics, heat sex, fingering, unprotected sex, dirty talk (including a bit of possessiveness), marking, creampie, hair pulling, degradation, praise, rough sex, multiple orgasms

Rating: 18+

Summary: You never could have expected your best friend to show up at your apartment right as you were about to go into heat, but when he did, something in you just wouldn’t let him go.

A/N: Truly, this was never supposed to be more than drabble. Which truly became a nuisance once it grew a lot and I had to go back and change a lot of things during editing. This is my first fic with some sort of supernatural element to it, and I had a lot of fun! I hope you guys enjoy, and please let me know what you think!

Reposted without the header gif and without any links or taglist. Sorry for any inconvenience if you were already looking at the first post. I will reblog with the taglist shortly.

Maybe it should have been embarrassing.

Maybe it was, 5 years ago when the habit first started.

5 years ago, when you’d had your first pre-heat. When the world had quickly become too overwhelming, your nose unused to the myriad of scents that assaulted you in your sensitivity. Your skin feeling so raw that even the clothes on your back felt uncomfortable.

It was then, in your childhood bedroom, amidst everything else, you recognized a scent that accompanied you through your life for as long as you could remember. A scent that felt like home, felt like warm days under the sun and shared laughter under blankets at midnight.

Your nose had led you to the bottom drawer of your dresser, your hands digging through the mess of fabric there until you pulled out an orange hoodie. You didn’t remember ever having it, and it looked small enough to have been from years ago – maybe even from before he presented.

But as you pulled it out of that drawer, the scent that might have been faint to you any other day filled your nostrils. A blueberry and pine scent that left you feeling calmer instantly, safer. Whether that had to do more with your friendship or his alpha status wasn’t a thought that crossed your mind. All you knew at the time was that it made everything better – he made everything better, even when he wasn’t there.

That marked the first time you laid in your bed, curling yourself around that small piece of comfort, your face shoved into the soft fabric. The peace that washed over you then was addicting, and any thought of giving up that feeling was unfathomable.

And if Jimin noticed how you were covered in his own scent when he saw you after every heat since that day, he didn’t say a thing.

You missed him a lot.

It wasn’t as though his university was that far away, and you should have grown used to it after several years of living apart for most of the year. Weekend visits were hardly enough when you’d spent more time together than apart growing up.

It definitely didn’t feel like enough when you were lying in bed, surrounded by the products of your skillful swiping over the years during Jimin’s visits. Hoodies, t-shirts – you had at least a dozen by now. All of which were tossed across your bed alongside you, your upper body already clad in one of his oversized hoodies.

When your pre-heat started affecting you yesterday, you’d already emailed your professors to tell them you wouldn’t be able to make it to class for the week. They, of course, understood – every university accommodated for their students to get a week off about every 3 months for this exact reason.

You were already overcome by exhaustion, Jimin’s scent wafting around the room lulling you into a sleepy daze.

It was common for an omega to nest amongst an alpha’s scent before their heat, though said alpha would typically be their partner.

It wasn’t something you liked to think on very often. Something like this couldn’t be that uncommon, right? After all, he was your first friend, and that went beyond being an alpha or omega. Besides, if it bothered him, wouldn’t he have already called you out for it by now? Wouldn’t he have said something when he realized that even when you’d started spending every heat with an alpha, his scent was still somewhere in there?

You tried not to worry too much about it. It didn’t matter, anyway.

Based on how you were feeling, you knew your heat would probably be here within 2 or 3 days. Which meant you should probably call someone soon to ask them to help you through it. It was normal practice to ask a friend to help you with your heat, but it was a line you’d never crossed with Jimin. Rejection was never something you dealt with well, and you were too afraid to put him, of all people, in that position. Knowing him, he would agree even if he didn’t want to.

Who, then? Namjoon? Hoseok? Both have agreed before, though the notion of crossing your room to pick up the phone you’d so foolishly left on the dresser was severely unappealing.

Instead, you let your eyes flutter shut, your face nuzzling into a blue and red scarf Jimin had forgotten at your apartment last winter. As the tranquility washed over you, your mind drifted closer and closer to sleep, warm and cozy and surrounded by Jimin’s scent.

Until the doorbell rang through your apartment.

At first you elected to ignore it, hoping whoever it was would get the hint and go away. But when it sounded out 2 more times after you hadn’t moved in several minutes, you groaned.

Wasn’t it bad etiquette to do this to someone? Surely that had to be written in a handbook somewhere.

With heavy limbs, you dragged yourself out of bed, flipping the hood up on your (well, Jimin’s) hoodie. As much as it may have been a bad idea to answer the door by yourself in pre-heat, your scent enveloped by an alpha’s would be enough to ward off unwanted advances. Though there were definitely bad people in the world, it took a truly insane person to go after an omega scented by an alpha.

When you made it to the door, you took a deep breath, preparing yourself to ream out whoever was on the other side. While you could sense someone’s presence there, every apartment was insulated, scent-wise, for protection. You didn’t know what to expect.

But of every possibility, when you opened the door, you didn’t expect to get assaulted by the very scent you’d been basking in only minutes ago. You didn’t notice how his eyes widened or how his pupils dilated when your scent hit him, too preoccupied by your body’s visceral reaction.

The full force of his scent almost had your knees buckling, your eyelids growing heavier as every single part of you instinctively yearned to curl up into him. Maybe your heat was closer than you thought.

When you were finally able to focus your eyes on him, his teeth were biting into his bottom lip, the hand holding an overnight bag clenched so hard his knuckles were white.

You didn’t give him the chance to say anything before you were stumbling forward, colliding messily with him, only focused on getting as close to him as possible.

You barely heard a mumbled ‘shit,’ not registering that he backed you into your apartment until you heard the door slam, his bag hitting the floor.

“Jimin,” you mumbled, your hands grasping at his shirt, eyes closed as you shoved your face into his neck, sighing happily when you were finally as close to the source of your happiness as possible.

But much to your discontent, he pushed you from him, keeping you an arms’ length away. The whimper you let out in response sounded pathetic even to your own ears, but every cell in your body was screaming to get as close to him as possible.

“Y/N,” he said firmly, the unusual hardness in his tone snapping you out of your daze slightly, wide eyes fixing onto his face. He audibly gulped at the glazed look in your eyes, before continuing. “You’re in heat.”

“I’m not,” you whined, trying to push against his hands, but he was stronger than you were.

“You will be,” he responded, letting out an incredulous sigh. “Fuck. I meant to surprise you but I forgot what the date was, I’m so sorry.”

“But I’m not yet,” you complained, changing tactics and instead aiming to shove your nose into the wrists near your shoulders. When your hair swished with your movement, sending a whiff of shampoo and your scent Jimin’s way, he groaned loudly.

“God, I can’t be here, I should go,” he said through gritted teeth. But when he started leaning down to pick his bag back up, you panicked.

“NO!” you yelled, launching yourself at him with your whole weight, not at all concerned about how he stumbled back in surprise. Your hands gripping onto his waist, you looked at him with wide eyes, your irises barely visible around the black of your dilated pupils. “Please don’t leave.”

His composure visibly cracked at the desperation on your face, but the sensation of your hands trembling in their grip on him brought him back to reality. “I can’t stay, I know that you know that-”

“Why?” you cried, your bottom lip trembling. The logical part of you deep inside knew you were being unreasonable, but even that part of you was a slave to instinct. All you knew was that Jimin got you through every pre-heat, and here Jimin was in front of you now. He’d never seen you like this, not ever in the last 5 years. And now that he has, nothing has ever been more unappealing than the thought of him walking out your front door.

He was very clearly taking shallow breaths, eventually bringing his own wrist to his nose to try to drown out everything else. Based on the low grunt he let out, it didn’t seem to be working very well.

“You smell like you’re going to go into heat at any moment, fuck, I can’t,” he panted, every part of him resisting the urge to grab you and scent you until there was absolutely no question whether you were his.

Except you weren’t his.

“I-I...” he stuttered, the scent of you not only clinging to him, but everywhere throughout the apartment occupying every part of his brain. “I need to go, I’ll call someone for you, Hoseok or-”

But that was definitely the wrong thing to say, because you sprung back from him as though you’ve been burned. When you looked at him as though he’d betrayed you, he knew he’d messed up.

“Why? You’re already here,” you spat out. “Don’t go,” you finished in a much weaker voice, pleading gaze fixing onto his.

A flash of pain went through him when he saw you hug yourself around the middle, as though to appear smaller. As though to protect yourself. From him.

“You don’t know what you’re asking of me.”

“I know exactly what I’m asking of you!” you wailed, the space between you feeling wider than it’s ever been.

“I can’t,” he repeated, a tinge of desperation making its way into his tone. Why was this so hard? From what he knew about omega heats and pre-heats, without a partner or relationship you shouldn’t have cared this much about which alpha stayed with you.

“Aren’t we friends? Can’t you just stay?” you begged, eyes brimming with unshed tears. Something about him trying to leave felt like a hole was being ripped through your chest, even if you’d understand why any other day.

“Of course we’re friends,” he said incredulously, a conflicted expression on his face. He knew exactly what you meant, exactly what was implied within that statement. When something like desire crossed his gaze, you felt a dash of hope bloom within you. “But...”

And it was crushed just like that. “Why don’t you want me when I want you? What’s wrong with me?” you sobbed, the tears finally spilling from your eyes as you dropped to your knees.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

The smell of an omega in distress was always something that set off an alpha’s protective instinct.

But the knowledge that he was the one who caused it brought forth an ugly wrenching in his gut.

For all the required readings Jimin had done in the course of his life, nothing had ever taught him what to do when the girl you’re secretly in love with was on the floor crying because you refused to fuck her through her heat.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to. God, did he want to.

But you weren’t there begging for his heart or his love or his devotion – you were begging for his body. Which wasn’t the problem. It wasn’t that he was offended. The problem was that he wanted more than this, and that right now was most definitely not the time to have that conversation.

And it’s not that he didn’t think you knew what you wanted. He knew you knew that you were asking for sex, but he also knew that was all you were asking for. Pre-heat was about preparing for sex, not romance.

As much as a heat could completely fog an omega’s brain, in pre-heat they could still make coherent decisions. It was typically a time spent preparing for heat, a time to call an alpha or to prepare for the much more painful option of suffering alone. They were typically in a perpetual state of exhaustion, bodies crying out for sleep to save up energy for their heat.

But more importantly, it was a time where omegas were at their most emotionally vulnerable, where they gave in to instinct. A time where they surrounded themselves in the things that made them feel safest, most at home.

He knew – he knew you used his scent to get through your pre-heat, but he never thought it meant that much. You were his oldest friend, and the fact that you found comfort in his scent was never something he questioned. He was an alpha, and you scented each other often – it made sense from a biology standpoint.

And – oh.

It hit him then that this was more than an alpha’s refusal to help their friend through their heat. This was more than a refusal for sex.

This was your biggest security blanket pushing you away at your most vulnerable, the person you trusted most to keep you safe leaving you when you were begging him to stay.

He really, really fucked up by coming here.

He should have checked the dates properly in the first place, and now he’d have to deal with the consequences. There was an unbelievably high chance that if he walked out that door, you’d have a breakdown, and he couldn’t just break your heart by leaving now.

Even if it ended up breaking his own. Even if you ended up thinking nothing of it, and he would never be able to erase the memory from his brain.

Because you were begging him to stay out of instinct, out of need. Not out of love. Not that he knew of, not the kind he wanted, at least.

But there was no reason to go there or question you about it, because he knew you’d say anything to make him stay, even if it wasn’t true. Not because you were a liar, but because that’s what your body would push you to do right now.

Knowing that the smell of his own panic would just set you off more, he took a couple deep breaths before falling to his knees in front of you. He had to force down the rising upset in his chest at the scent of your tears, every part of him screaming at himself for upsetting you this deeply.

“Hey,” he called out softly, his hands reaching out to gently pull your hands away from where they were hiding your face. At the sight of your red-rimmed eyes and wet cheeks, his heart tugged. “Look at me.” He slipped a hand forward to cradle your head, brushing against the hair at the nape of your neck. He hoped so badly that he could be a comfort to you, even when he was the one who hurt you in the first place.

He waited almost a minute for you to look up, doing his best to calm you in that time. When you finally raised your eyes to look at him, the fear in your expression was something he’d only ever seen a few times in his life. You were an expert at putting on a brave face for the world, and seeing the uncensored pain displayed there punched him in the gut.

“Baby,” he cooed, pulling you into his arms. He carefully maneuvered your face into the crook of his neck, smiling as you melted into his hold, a content sigh leaving you. He wrapped his arms around you, face rubbing into your hair as he stopped resisting the urge to scent you. He ignored the shiver that ran down his spine at your scent that only seemed to be growing stronger.

The two of you stayed like that for several minutes, your body so limp in his grasp that he had to keep both of you upright himself. He couldn’t tell whether you were awake, goosebumps rising to the surface of his skin as your nose brushed against one of the most sensitive parts of his body.

But when he stood up, wanting to get you somewhere more comfortable than the floor, he felt every muscle in your body tense, a low whine leaving your throat. Your hands grasped onto his shirt. “Jimin-”

“Shh,” he soothed, continuing to nuzzle into you as he stood you both up. “I’m not leaving.”

“You’re not?” you repeated, muffled into his shoulder.

“I’m not.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” He scratched lightly at your scalp as the other hand stroked up and down the length of your back, humming when you finally relaxed again, your arms wrapping around to tug him as close as possible. “Good girl.”

Something in him awakened when he heard the hitch of your breath at his words, but he shoved it down. He had to keep a hold of himself while he still had the chance – because once you were in heat, there would be no rest for either of you. Not when it was taking his entire focus to hold himself back right now and it was only your pre-heat.

“I’m gonna take you to your room, okay?” he asked quietly. When you nodded, he scooped you up, your legs wrapping around his waist, head lolling sleepily against his shoulder.

You were very clearly exhausted, and guilt gnawed away at him for it. The emotional ups and downs of the past half hour must have taken even more out of you – while you tended to be quiet, you were never this quiet, not with him. You seemed to be asleep, steady exhales hitting the skin of his neck.

When he entered your room, his heart skipped in his chest at the sight of his belongings strewn across your mattress, a you-sized gap in the middle where you must have been laying. He couldn’t help the pride swelling in his chest, the possessive part of him thrilled at the notion of you burying yourself in his scent.

He supposed he should be happy you were asleep. Omegas tended to be self-conscious about their nest, which was why he was surprised you agreed to let him take you here so easily. The idea that you felt comfortable enough to let him in here without a fight brought forth a feeling in his gut that felt suspiciously like butterflies.

Easing off the shoes he’d never had the chance to remove at the front door, he brought you both down into the bed, careful not to jostle your form. He laid you down together, your body atop his, heart melting at your tiny noise of content.

He had to bite back a moan when you nuzzled further into his neck, your lips brushing against his skin.

Get it together, Jimin.

He didn’t know if he would ever be relaxed enough to sleep when you were on top of him already smelling like every sinful desire he’s ever had. His cock shouldn’t have been stirring when you looked so innocent, your hands curled up ever-so-slightly under his shirt. And despite everything in his mind telling him that he would regret this, his entire body was screaming in anticipation for this entire weekend.

This wouldn’t be the first time he’s helped an omega through their heat, but everything was different because this was you. Someone he cared about, someone he loved, and he knew you loved him too, whether it was in the way he wanted or not. Heat flared in him at the thought of you wet and desperate only for him, begging to be filled. He knew you’d be out of your mind with lust, and even before seeing it he knew it would be the most beautiful sight he’s ever set eyes upon.

Get a hold of yourself, Jimin.

It was absolutely no use to contemplate these things now, especially not when the scent of his arousal might wake you up and set you off prematurely. You both needed rest – he’d be damned if he didn’t make this the best heat you’d ever had just because he was tired.

And so he wrapped his arms around your middle, willing arousal from his brain and replacing it with thoughts of sleep. Luckily, his body must have been able to sense his need for rest before the upcoming days, and sleep found him easier than anticipated.

You awoke to your back hitting your mattress, the first thing you noticed being that your body felt like it was being burned alive. But when you inhaled, the scent of pure alpha overtook all thought, brain incapable of anything other than unadulterated need, arousal shooting to your core almost instantaneously.

When your eyes shot open, fire lit within you when they immediately locked onto Jimin’s dark gaze, his body hovering over yours like he was about to pounce. When he took in the neediness in your eyes, his lip upturned in a salacious smirk, stare burning holes into you.

“Rise and shine, little wolf,” he drawled, hands locking onto your ankles and dragging you down the bed until your face was right below his.

You shivered despite yourself at the predatory expression on his face, holding back the whine that threatened to escape. You felt incapable of speaking, every intake of breath only fogging your mind further, the fire in you becoming so potent it was painful.

You couldn’t help the keening whimper that escaped when he roughly fisted a hand into the hair at the nape of your neck, yanking until your entire neck was on display. You gasped and arched into his body with want as he leaned in to inhale deeply right above your collarbone. The feral growl he let out at your scent had you shuddering, trembling hands trying desperately to pull him closer, but he didn’t relent.

“Please,” you begged, shoving your body upwards as much as possible, desperate to feel his body against your own. At the feeling of his canines brushing against the skin of your neck gently, you felt new wetness rush from you. Your desperation was only growing exponentially with every passing moment, and it felt like if you didn’t get touched soon, you would surely die.

“You smell so fucking good,” he snarled, voice raspier than you’d ever heard it before. He sounded almost pained, and it only set you off further. Everything in you ached for his touch, your cunt clenching around nothing despite Jimin not even having touched you yet. You needed it – needed to be touched, you needed him to quell the ache.

“Hurts,” you gasped out, still trying and failing to grind against his body above you.

“Aw, baby, I’m sorry,” he cooed, pressing his free palm down onto your clothed centre. His breath hitched as you started forcefully grinding against it immediately, a choked whine slipping from your lips at the sudden pressure right where you needed it most.

“Alpha...” you moaned, rutting shamelessly against his hand as you pushed further against the hand in your hair, baring more of the soft expanse of your neck. Your eyes shut as pleasure rocked your system, but it wasn’t enough. You needed more, his cock in your drenched cunt, his nails raking down your body as he utterly ravished you. You whined loudly at the thought, arousal slipping from you. It was clear he noticed when he hissed.

“Fuck, look at you. You’re dripping, so fucking desperate,” he panted, somehow sounding almost as ruined as you. “I’m gonna fuck this cunt senseless, fill you up so good you’ll never ask for anyone else again. Do you want that, little omega? Want me to make you mine?”

Any other time you might have questioned his possessive words, but any rational part of your brain was long gone. No, all that existed was you, Jimin, and your excruciating need to be filled.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you cried, whimpering at the imagery he put in your head. You wanted nothing more than to be his bitch, to take his cock and his seed and his knot. “Fuck me, please.”

“You beg so nicely,” he breathed, and you keened at the praise. You gasped as he sat back and quite literally ripped the shirt from your body, following suit with the rest of your clothes. You didn’t have it in you to complain, not when he was yanking your legs apart, gaze laser-focused onto your centre. “Don't worry, baby, your alpha is gonna take care of you, okay?”

You only nodded furiously, hips bucking upward suddenly as Jimin wasted no more time, two fingers smearing through your heat before thrusting abruptly into you. You finally felt some sort of relief at being filled, but it wasn’t enough. The stretch wasn’t satisfying enough, and your desire for more only amplified. But it seemed he knew this, adding another finger wordlessly.

“God, this cunt is so fucking hungry for me,” he growled, pistoning his fingers in and out roughly before grinding the heel of his hand into your clit.

You cried out as pleasure reared on you embarrassingly quickly, but no part of you wanted to cum without his cock inside you, dragging against your sensitive walls.

“Jimin...” you moaned, arching your back as you sought to push yourself closer to the source of your pleasure. He almost groaned at the sound of his name coming so wantonly from your lips. “Want you, please.”

“Yeah? You want to get stuffed?”

The garbled response you gave was nowhere near coherent, but it didn’t take a genius to see what you wanted. When he gave a low chuckle and pulled himself from his sweatpants, you started salivating immediately. He was girthy, vein visibly spanning the underside beneath his hand as he palmed himself. The head looked almost purple, the tip leaking. You needed it inside you.

Before you even realized it yourself, you were turning over onto your front. By the time you’d planted your face down, ass up, Jimin was already growling, roughly digging his fingers into your asscheeks. As several more seconds went by without his cock in you, you arched your back further, whining as he only dug his fingertips in harder.

“Such a good little wolf,” he crooned, hissing when your arousal dripped from your pussy to the bed. “Getting yourself so nice and ready for me. You need cock that badly? Can’t wait for it?”

You could have cried when you finally felt the tip of his cock at your entrance, but you didn’t have time to do or say anything before he shoved all the way in to the hilt without warning.

You must have screamed then, but you hardly noticed anything apart from the way he set a quick pace, hardly noticed when the tears left your eyes, body swimming in relief and euphoria. Every snap of his hips brought forth a moan from your lips, fingers digging helplessly into the sheets by your head.

“Tell me how it feels,” he snarled, moving to hold your hips up when the overwhelming pleasure left you unable to do it yourself.

It was all you could do to whimper, body feeling as though it was in the clouds as your walls clamped down on Jimin’s cock. He was stretching you so well, the slight burn nothing compared to the waves of pleasure he was sending through your entire being. You took a breath to respond to him once you registered what he said, but when his cock brushed against that spot inside you, it only left you as a choked moan.

“This needy cunt just sucks me right in, huh?” he groaned when your walls clenched down on him again, as though to trap him inside you. But it made no difference to him, his thrusts only continuing, fast and precise as your walls fluttered around him, whines falling from your lips. Recalling how responsive you’d been to praise earlier, he kept talking. “Doing such a good job for me, baby,” he hummed, smirking when he felt the shuddering of your body beneath his hands. “So fucking perfect for me, taking this cock so well.”

His words shot through you like fire, and combined with the drag of him inside you, you were propelled toward your end.

“Alpha...” you whimpered, pushing back onto his cock, a particularly rough thrust pulling a shout from your lips. You were so close to slipping over the edge, the squeezing of your walls around him more and more insistent as you approached your end. “Please.” It was as though no other words existed in your vocabulary, but Jimin could read you perfectly well, as though he was made for you.

“What’s that, hm? Baby’s gonna cum?” he taunted before reaching around to rub at your clit. “Let go then, milk my cock. I want to hear you.”

The added stimulation was more than enough to propel you into your orgasm, your mouth agape as your walls clamped down on his cock. You distantly registered Jimin’s moans from above you as he held you up and fucked you through your it, the sparks of pleasure never-ending.

But while his thrusts became less harsh, they did not lower in their intensity whatsoever. And as the fog in your head receded some from your orgasm, you only felt that much more sensation as you regained your bearings.

Rather than a mindless slave to pleasure and want, with your brain partly yours again you could truly feel. Feel the cotton of the sheets where they were clenched between your fists, feel the slight strain in your knees as they dug into the mattress, feel Jimin’s fingers anchored onto your hips, as though you would float away if he let go.

You could truly feel every drag of his cock against you, every grind, and when he perfectly maneuvered to hit against your g-spot, you were left breathless once again.

But with your increased coherence, your body craved more than just cock – you wanted closeness, wanted Jimin’s body against your own, his groans in your ear, his chest against your back.

“Jimin,” you called out, voice needy but noticeably more present.

His thrusts slowed but didn’t stop. “Hm?”

Rather than attempt to formulate an answer, you blindly reached a hand in his direction and made a grabbing motion. It was accompanied by your best impression of some sort of demanding noise, but you sounded like a spoiled brat even to your own ears.

He clearly didn’t mind though, huffing a laugh at your antics before coming down to your level, pressing some of his weight into your back as he nuzzled your neck.

“This what you want, baby?” he asked, wrapping his arms snugly around your middle. It would almost be cute, if not for the snap of his hips he opted to punctuate his question with.

You could only shiver and take it as he set a slow but intense pace, his cock slowly dragging out of you before he thrusted forward quickly in one single motion. But even in its intensity it was intimate, his lips tracing nonsensical patterns into the skin of your shoulder, his moans increasing in volume as you whined your pleasure.

His pace slowly but surely built you back up toward a second release, Jimin’s thrusts growing faster as he approached his own end. It wasn’t long before your moans were increasing in volume again, hips squirming beneath Jimin’s as that pressure in your abdomen only built and built.

“Gonna cum for me again, little wolf?” he growled directly into your ear, digging his fingers in close to your scalp and pulling your face up out of the sheets. No longer muffled, your moans were loud and unabashed, your pleasure surrendered entirely to him.

“I’m gonna fill this cunt up, gonna stretch you wide, is that what you want?”

As much as you were more coherent than last time, the effect his voice had on you was visceral, eyelids fluttering shut and goosebumps raising on your skin. When you only nodded with what little movement you could make within his grasp, he growled.

“Answer me!”

“Yes, yes!” you pleaded, eager to please. “Want you to fill me up, Jimin, please.”

“Such a good girl,” he moaned in response, moving to suck bruises into your neck. The thought of being marked by him for all to see only lit a new fire within you.

But when you felt the press of his canines brushing against the sensitive part of your neck, it was as though something in you snapped. You almost squealed as the orgasm rained down on you unexpectedly, something resembling ‘Jimin’ spilling from your lips, though you paid it no mind.

You were so lost in your pleasure you hardly noticed Jimin’s gruff yell from above you as he came, only registering it as his knot started to stretch you.

He shushed you gently as you whined, warmth still spilling into you as it finished inflating. Panting breathlessly against your back, he softly cupped your face as you caught your breath.

The stretch was more overwhelming than painful, every tiny movement seeming to shift his knot inside you enough to make you gasp. You should have grown used to the feeling by this point in your life, but it managed to catch you off guard every single time. You never felt ready for the immense stretch or the soreness that lingered between waves of your heat.

After several minutes of silence, breaths finally quieting, he spoke up.

“Are you okay?” he asked, hands reaching to keep you from squirming too much under him, knowing you’d only make the discomfort worse. “Relax for me.”

You nodded in response, letting yourself release the tension from your limbs as he continued to gently nose at your neck. His scent washed over you, but in this brief limbo between waves of your heat it spurred only calmness rather than arousal.

For you, at least, the first wave was always the worst in terms of self-control and mindedness. That was why it was essential for omegas to share their heat only with someone they could trust – if not a partner, then a friend. While omegas were at their most emotionally vulnerable during pre-heat, they were at their most physically vulnerable during the heat itself. In theory, Jimin could have done whatever he wanted, and you would have begged for it.

He hummed in approval when you went still beneath him, rolling the two of you onto your side so that you were no longer supporting his weight.

“Sleepy?” he inquired softly as he watched you stifle a yawn.

You only nodded again, reaching for Jimin’s hand to make him wrap it around you more snugly, pressing yourself as close to him as possible. You shivered as his knot shifted with your movement, though it didn’t ache as much as it did initially. You felt so full, his cock still half-hard within you, release still painting your walls with nowhere to go.

You let your eyes shut, soreness and exhaustion taking up residence temporarily before the next wave. As much as a heat could feel so intense it hurt, you found that the time between each wave was truly the most difficult. It was the time where every ounce of muscle pain and sleep deprivation hit you, but it was also the time where, to put it simply, if you didn’t recharge you were fucked.

Heats were strenuous on the body, and it unfortunately wasn’t abnormal for omegas to be brought to the emergency room from dehydration and malnutrition from their heat. That was why the medical professionals tended to encourage of-age omegas to spend their heats with a trusted partner – it was just safer altogether. It was difficult to push past the fog of exhaustion to take care of yourself when you were on your own, though not impossible.

A tiny whine was the only acknowledgment you gave when you felt his knot go down enough to slip from you. You made a noise of complaint as Jimin pulled from your side, but he quickly returned to you, wiping away the mess that was now between your thighs.

“If I help you, can you sit up?”

After hearing your noise of affirmation, he pulled you up so that your back rested against the headboard, careful not to move you too quickly. But despite that, you couldn’t help the lightheaded feeling that came with the motion, reaching out to steady yourself on Jimin’s arm.

When he took in your rapid blinking and unfocused eyes, his concern grew exponentially. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Tired,” you mumbled, leaning into his touch when he moved to stroke your face.

“Let’s eat something and then we can nap, okay?”

“Mm.”

He moved away from you quickly to grab things from under your bed. One of the first things they taught omegas after presenting was that it was essential to keep a food and drink store in your room during your heat. One of the most important parts of pre-heat was not only securing a heat partner if desired, but also packing enough nutrient-rich food and drinks to last through your heat if you’re unable to leave the room.

You hadn’t realized you’d dozed off until Jimin’s hand on your shoulder startled you awake. He took your hand in his own only to wrap your fingers around an energy bar he’d opened for you.

“Eat,” he commanded, though the soft, caring tone characteristic of Jimin never left his voice.

The thought of putting in effort to do anything was unappealing, but once you started, you realized how famished you were. When you finished your first bar within moments, he handed you a second, eating some for himself at the same time.

He didn’t waste any time with handing you a Gatorade bottle once you were finished eating, ensuring you could hold it yourself before getting his own.

As much as he seemed to be in a rush, this was a better safe than sorry type of situation. While sometimes you could squeeze in some sleep between waves of your heat, it sometimes felt like one huge gamble in terms of time. You’ve had downtimes of as little as 10 minutes in the past, so you were grateful that he was hurrying you along.

When he noticed you stopped drinking, he grabbed it from you to place it on the nightstand a safe distance away from the bed.

“Do you want anything else?” he asked, shoving all of the garbage into a bag to deal with another time.

“You.”

He turned around quickly, thinking you were going into your next wave, but froze at the sight of you simply blinking up at him sleepily.

He bit down on his lip to suppress a fond smile when you reached for his hand, severely hoping his face wasn’t as red as it felt.

He let you tug him forward, settling beside you in bed before pulling you securely into his side.

As much as you might have loved to talk or quietly cuddle, you were out like a light as soon as you laid your head down on his shoulder, face tucked securely into his neck.

The next two days went by in a blur. You never tended to remember very many specific moments from your heats besides that you felt good, and were definitely sore after. The combination of physical and mental exhaustion along with the mind-numbing desire didn’t seem to be conducive to proper brain function.

Fuck. Eat. Fuck. Eat. Nap. Rinse. Repeat.

“Kiss me,” you demanded, pulling Jimin down toward you by his shoulders.

From what you could tell, it was the last day of your heat, also making for the most coherent day. The consequences of not sating your heat on the last day were more uncomfortable than painful, and the sex almost resembled what it would any other day.

He obliged you easily, mouth meeting yours as he snapped his hips, filling you up and stretching you all in one stroke. He nipped at your lower lip as you moaned freely, arching your back to feel as much of his skin as possible.

You couldn’t help the increase in volume when he settled with his length in you, grinding his pubic bone into your clit. It seemed that Jimin was feeling similarly, both of you simply panting by each other's mouths rather than doing any sort of kissing like you’d intended.

It was only minutes before you felt the familiar tightening in your abdomen, Jimin groaning above you when he felt you clench around him. You whimpered as he sucked new bruises into the skin of your neck, a shiver making its way down your spine as he reached the soft skin below your ear.

But every part of you was screaming out for more.

“Mark me.”

Jimin froze instantly at your words, but it seemed that you weren’t properly considering the weight of your words, only urging him to continue his motions in search of your high.

A mark wasn’t permanent, but it was no small thing. More than a mark of “possession,” it was a mark of an alpha's care and loyalty, a mark of an omega’s trust. It was only something ever shared in serious relationships, and it would sometimes take partners years to reach that point.

“Jimin,” you whined when he ignored what you said. Every instinctive part of you wanted it so badly, your head subconsciously tipping back to give him easier access.

“No.”

“Jimin...”

“Don’t you know what you’re saying?”

“Please-”

“I said no,” he snarled, speeding up the snap of his hips enough that you were shifting up the bed. “Tomorrow, when this is all over,” he panted above you, teeth bared, “Then we’ll talk.”

He didn’t let you get a word in edgewise, continuously pulling himself from you fully before abruptly sheathing himself to the hilt once again.

You were left gasping for breath, swimming in sensation as your abdomen tightened, all else forgotten for the time being.

When he shifted to one side, a hand dropping to rub circles into your clit, you saw white. Your nails sharply dug into the skin of Jimin’s back where they were held, waves of pleasure battering you nonstop as he continued his thrusts.

But it was only moments later that he seated himself into you fully, warmth spilling into you as his knot inflated for the nth time since your heat began. It didn’t leave you gasping the same way as the first time, but a groan still wrenched itself from your throat at the sensation.

As soon as his body collapsed onto yours, you knew that your heat was finally over. The feeling was inexplicable, almost as though a weight had been lifted from the back of your mind.

You might have addressed the words uttered from your mouth only moments before if not for the debilitating fatigue that filled every limb and every square inch of your brain.

So, against your best judgment on any other day, you knocked right out.

When you next awoke, it wasn’t because desire ripped you from slumber, nor was it because your scent set off Jimin enough to wake you.

In fact, you were alone in your bed, immediately cringing at the sight of all the questionable stains dotting the sheets.

Good thing you had a mattress pad.

You sat up, wincing as every muscle screamed in protest. From your neck all the way to your fingertips, everything hurt. You’d probably be feeling this for days. It definitely didn’t help that the stench of sex was so strong you could feel a headache coming on.

You didn’t have time to ponder on Jimin’s whereabouts before he was coming back in through the doorway, half-dressed with water in hand.

He sent you a smile when you met eyes, but it was lost on you because as soon as he was here, every interaction over the past few days flooded your mind at once. And this time, there were no hormones to mask proper thought.

You asked – no, begged – him to stay. Even when he told you no.

You’d practically thrown a tantrum, what was wrong with you? Since when did your pre-heat make you throw respect out the window?

He wasn’t here because he wanted to stay, he was here because you forced him to. He was here because you were pathetic enough to get on the floor and beg him to stay, and Jimin, for the life of him, didn’t know how to say no to people. How could he look at you right now?

“Y/N?” he called, sounding puzzled. He must be able to smell your rising distress coming off you in waves, but you paid him no mind as you continued to recall the past few days, hating yourself more and more with every passing second.

You’d basically forced him to stay with you and fuck you for nearly four days without ever talking about it before.

It was more difficult to put together the pieces of what happened in your heat, memories mostly a blur of pleasure and then sleep.

But-

Fuck.

“Mark me.”

Your blood ran cold instantly.

Were you fucking insane? You dug your fingernails into your palms harshly to check if you were dreaming. Unluckily for you, you weren’t.

Was there any coming back from this? You couldn’t blame him if he could never look at you the same, if he never spoke to you again. Who would tell their heat partner – the first time they spent a heat together – to mark them?

It didn’t matter that you’d known each other since before you were even forming proper memories. It didn’t matter, because that wasn’t how this worked. You didn’t just ask your friends to mark you, no matter how much you loved each other.

A mark was something you shared with someone you intended to be lifelong partners with. Someone you’d dedicate your life to, someone you might want to have kids with someday.

God, what was wrong with you?

You didn’t notice his approach until a hand met your shoulder, too engrossed in staring at the floor as thoughts whirred in your head.

“What is it?” he asked, concern quickly turning into panic at finding you in this state with no explanation.

But it was as though with one touch, the floodgates broke, and angry tears started spilling from your eyes. Tears that had nothing to do with Jimin and everything to do with yourself.

He jumped back slightly in surprise, and you didn’t give him the chance to touch you again before you were furiously wiping the wetness from your face.

“God, are you okay? Did I hurt you?” he questioned frantically, hands returning to your shoulders as he angled his face to try to meet yours, but you only kept turning your head to avoid him. He looked like he didn’t know what to do with himself, whether to join you on the bed or continue hovering awkwardly from the bedside. “Talk to me, please-”

“Do you hate me?” you choked out, eyes fixed on a random, insignificant spot on the sheets.

That seemed to quiet him instantly. “Huh?”

“I forced you here,” you whispered, though it seemed that the words didn’t want to stop once they started, volume only rising as you carried on. “You came here to be nice and then you tried to leave and I didn’t let you. You said no so many times and I begged you to stay until you couldn’t say no anymore! I don’t even know what I was thinking, I guess I wasn’t thinking at all-”

“Hey-”

“I’m so sorry, I don’t know how you must think of me right now but I wouldn’t blame you if you thought I was disgusting, I think I’m disgusting, god-”

“Hey, look at me,” he urged, prodding lightly at your chin until you raised your head enough to meet his gaze. When he saw your red eyes and miserable expression, it was as though a piece of himself broke. “I stayed because I wanted to.”

“You didn't, I remember you told me no, you ‘wanted to’ because I made you.”

“It’s not like that,” he replied, expression almost pained.

“Don’t lie to me to make me feel better,” you snarled, though it came off more broken than aggressive. “Stop trying to protect me, tell me when you’re mad at me!”

“I’m not mad at you.”

“Jimin-”

“You trust me, don’t you?”

The sudden question was enough to give you pause. “You know I do.”

He took a moment to settle onto the bed beside you, stretching out an arm to invite you in to lay with him. After only a moment of hesitation, you did.

“Then trust me when I say I wanted to stay,” he said firmly, stroking calming circles into your side. “You know I don’t like lying to you.”

It was true, he didn’t. Which summoned the question – if he wanted to stay, why did he refuse so many times? Were you sure he wasn’t lying now?

No – that wasn’t Jimin. Plus, you knew him so well that you doubted he would lie to you about something this serious, not when he was such an open book. But you didn’t have long to think about it before he piped up again.

“You asked me something yesterday,” he started, and you could hear in his tone that he was treading carefully.

You tensed up immediately when you processed his words, breath quickening as you anticipated what he was about to say. Was this the part where he told you he’s not mad he stayed, but he never wanted to speak to you again? You’d relaxed enough in the past few minutes that you’d almost forgotten about what you’d said yesterday. Almost.

“Why?” he asked simply.

Why. An obscenely loaded question contained within one 3-letter word. And yet, an answer wasn’t so easy.

“I don’t know,” you stalled.

“Don’t do that,” he scolded. “Really think. I know you, and I know you’d never be that nonchalant about a mark, ever. What changed?”

“Nothing changed!”

He only turned to give you a disapproving look before leaning his head back against the headboard and shutting his eyes. It was clear that he wasn’t going to make any more conversation until you properly pondered his question and gave him a real answer.

Why?

Did you even know why?

You wished you could say it just slipped out, that there was no other reason.

Maybe any other time you’ve said something questionable or downright stupid that would fly, but not for something like this.

Even at their drunkest, people didn’t ask their friends to marry them with the full intent of following through and starting life as an actual married couple.

Just the same, an omega doesn’t just ask a friend to mark them, mate them, not even in heat. Omega heats made it a fairly common occurrence to fuck your friends (at least, a select few) while unmarked, and it wasn’t as though the desire to be marked stemmed from a heat. If it were, platonic marking would be a thing already. And sure, marking made sex feel better, but heats were sexual, and marks were... more.

That was the problem, wasn’t it? There was no easy excuse, no escaping this.

One might say an omega was a slave to instinct in their heat, but instinct didn’t come from nowhere.

The instinct to nest came from the pursuit of safety in a vulnerable time. The instinct to ‘hibernate’ came from the need to save up energy for a heat. The instinct to scent came from the desire for intimacy and comfort. The instinct to fuck came from hormonal cycles and the body’s inherent goal to breed.

The instinct to be marked as an omega? To ask for it?

The need for emotional security, to know that your feelings were returned – attraction, desire, love.

Love?

If your love for Jimin was supposed to be a secret, it wasn’t a very well-kept one. You talked every day since you were kids, knew each other's mannerisms so well you didn’t need words to communicate, gravitated toward each other in every group setting, cried together when you separated for university...

You loved him, without a doubt. It was obvious. But was it more than that? Was your body trying to tell you something that you didn’t even consider?

“I...” you started but immediately trailed off, limbs so tense you almost seemed ready to run away. This wasn’t a conversation you ever imagined could take place.

“Don’t be scared. You can tell me anything.” Were you imagining things, or did his tone sound almost... hopeful?

“I’ve never asked someone to mark me before this.”

He only hummed lowly in response. You knew that he knew this already, but it seemed that this time, he wouldn’t call you out for circling around the question.

“I’ve never met someone who I felt more for than you. Safe, comfortable, happy, loved.” You paused, taking a deep breath. “I love you a lot, you know?”

His breath hitched despite himself, even though he knew you didn’t mean what he wanted you to mean. “I know,” he replied, sounding almost disappointed.

“But...”

“But?” he responded, allowing that tiny thread of hope to wind around his heart one more time.

“But I don’t know what I’m feeling,” you finished, panic increasing exponentially by the end of your sentence, your body almost feeling as though it was trembling.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he rushed, bringing you closer to rub his cheek into your hair. Was it cruel of him to feel some sort of joy at your words when you were clearly scared and confused?

His scent washing over you helped calm you some, but even still, you couldn’t stop thinking. What were you feeling? Did you want something more than friendship, or was this entire situation just putting thoughts in your head? Sure, you were undeniably compatible sexually, and sure, you found him attractive, but did you want a relationship? A romantic one? But even then, how much would that really change? What did you want? Would Jimin be disgusted with you? Let you down easily? It would have to be the latter, right?

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked-”

“No,” you cut him off.

“Huh?”

“You should’ve. I can’t be stupid forever.”

“You’re not stupid.”

“I am stupid, what kind of person doesn’t know whether they...” Even despite knowing he could tell exactly what you were trying to say, the words wouldn’t come from your lips. Were you in denial? Embarrassed? Something else?

“Emotions don’t have to be straightforward.”

“I wish they were.”

He breathed a laugh at that. “Believe me, I know.”

“Jimin, be honest with me.”

“I’m always honest with you.”

“Let’s say, hypothetically, you have this friend. You’re very good friends – best friends even. You see each other as much as possible, all that. And she tells you one day she wants to talk.”

“Oh? What’s her name?”

“Uhhhhh...” you paused, pulling out the first name that came to mind. “Susan.”

He choked back a laugh, though you could still feel his chest bouncing beneath your head. “My friend Susan. Okay, go on.”

“And she tells you that something happened, and it spurred this huge train of thought that had never occurred to her before. Something that made her think about your entire relationship as friends, and made her think about herself.”

“Uh huh...”

“And she had to wonder, how much of her heart was invested in this relationship? That answer was easy – all of it. But what really had her confused was what parts of her heart were in it.”

You fidgeted nervously, but instead of saying something, Jimin only reached for one of your hands, intertwining your fingers together.

“But what really scared her the most was – how would you react? What happens when your best friend tells you that maybe your love for them extends beyond friendship?”

You took several deep breaths, trying to muster up the courage to finish the ‘story’ you’ve started. There was no backing out of this now. Your hand squeezed his hard enough that it must have hurt him, though he didn’t seem to mind.

“If she told you she thought she loved you as more than a friend, how would you respond?” you asked, trying to inject as much nonchalance into your voice as possible and failing miserably. You could feel your palms getting sweatier, and you thought your teeth might chew straight through your bottom lip. You held your breath once you heard Jimin take one of his own, preparing mentally for whatever was about to leave his lips.

“I would tell her I love her back.”

It was as though time stopped. “You... you what?”

Unwilling to let you hide your face anymore, he pulled you over so that you were straddling him, your heart filling when your eyes met his, full of honesty and understanding and... love.

“I would tell her I love her back. That if she wanted me, I was hers.”

Your eyes searched his face desperately for several seconds longer, waiting for the moment this bliss would break, the moment he took his words back, left you heartbroken before you’d even properly processed that it was his to break. But that moment never came.

“Really?” you whispered, eyes wide and screaming with vulnerability, but also wonder. The petty part of him wished he could fault you for being so oblivious, but it wasn’t your fault that you two had simply never outgrown the innocent intimacy from childhood, even after presenting.

“Really.”

“I do want it. You. I want to try. If you can be patient with me.”

“Okay. Give me a chance and I’ll make you fall in love with me for sure.”

“Oh.” As hard as you tried to purse your lips, the smile still broke its way through, eyes crinkling happily as every insecurity felt like it left at once. Was it this easy? Could happiness come so quickly in a moment, just like that?

“Oh,” he replied simply, beam splitting his face at your barely-contained joy, your expression so innocent even after all that happened the past few days.

“Oh,” you repeated, though this time the word undoubtedly seemed to harbour more weight, brows furrowing.

“Hm?”

“That’s why you said no, isn’t it? The reason you wanted to stay but tried to leave?”

The sad smile that spread across his face at that was all the answer you needed, the briefly-forgotten guilt coming back instantly.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” he assured, pulling you close enough that your bodies were plastered together. “It all worked out anyway, right?”

You nodded, relaxing in his arms. If your brain wasn’t going a mile a minute right now, you were so comfortable you could’ve slept like this.

You allowed yourself several minutes to simply lay in his arms, that familiar blueberry-pine scent making you heart feel lighter and lighter.

“So,” you mumbled.

“So.”

“What changes now?”

“What do you want to change?” he replied.

“I asked first.”

He chuckled lightly. “Fine. Well...” You leaned back in confusion when he started pushing you up and off of him. “I think being able to do this is a good change.”

He leaned his face into yours, giving you a moment to back away before gently pressing his plush lips to yours.

You’d kissed already in your heat – you remembered that much. But this wasn’t a kiss that demanded your surrender, nor was it fast, or rough. It was just soft, intimate – because sometimes, emotions were easier said through actions rather than words.

You slid your hands into his hair, dragging your nails against his scalp as you deepened the kiss. His hands traced nonsensical patterns into the skin of your back, holding you close as though you’d ever want to leave. It was so easy to get lost in him, in the way he held you, touched you, kissed you, as though you were something to be cherished.

It wasn’t long before the kiss started to get more heated, though, and you couldn’t help yourself from nipping at his bottom lip. He made a low noise in response, a hand moving to grip your ass as the other winded its way into your hair.

It was when his hand made contact with your bare ass that you remembered that you were naked throughout this entire ordeal. And just as you processed that, his hand started inching its way slowly but surely between your legs.

“I think the fuck not, Park Jimin,” you gasped, breaking the kiss and throwing his hand from your body.

He burst into bright laughter at your words, eyes forming crescents that would make any person’s day better. His happiness was contagious, and you couldn’t hold back the giggles at the sound of him.

“How sore are you?” he questioned, tiny giggles still escaping him. You thought you detected a hint of concern somewhere in there, but you couldn’t blame him for being in an obscenely good mood.

“Ugh. Are you not sore at all?”

“Not really? Mostly hungry, I guess.”

“I hate you. It feels like all of my limbs want to detach from their sockets, and don’t even get me started on what it feels like between my legs. You and your dick can go die.”

Your words only set off another round of laughter from him, his grin wide as he took in your fake pout.

“Are you sure you want that? You seemed to enjoy it from where I was standing. You’re sending me mixed signals here,” he teased.

You let out a childish noise of complaint. God, was this what you were getting yourself into? You were already used to his antics by now, but now you had to deal with them while he flirted too? Someone send help.

“Pity me a bit,” you whined, giving him the best wide-eyed pout you could muster. Though, it only seemed to raise his mood even more.

“I’m sorry I broke you,” he said.

You smacked him a bit harder than you would normally. “Jiminnnnnnnnn,” you said, stringing out the word for as long as a breath would allow.

“If I made you food, would you forgive me?”

“...I’m listening.”

“What if I said I already made you food?”

“What?!” you perked up, any grudge you might have held disappearing in an instant. “What did you make?”

“Lay down and find out in 5 minutes, I’m tired,” he responded, laying down comfortably and encouraging you to do the same. You didn’t require much convincing, cuddling back into his side. This position wasn’t anything abnormal for you two, but it felt different now. Newer, more intimate.

Needless to say, 5 minutes turned into 2 hours after you’d both fell asleep.

But when Jimin placed a bowl of re-heated stir-fry in front of you 2 hours later, you would say he secured his place as fully, unequivocally yours.

#btsgoldnet #btsguild #ficswithluv #cypherwritersnet #heartsforbts #magicshopnet #mikrogalaxynet #jimin x reader #bts x reader #jimin smut #bts smut #jimin angst #bts angst #jimin fluff #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts fic

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nntheblog · 3 years ago

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Blue Lock Characters : 45+ Characters Ranked And Skills Explained

Blue Lock is the soccer manga of 2021. It has revolutionized the concept of sports by adding the notion of survival games. After Captain Tsubasa and Inazuma eleven, here is a mastodon in this field! That's why a question arises which are the best characters in Blue Lock ? Here's Our Top 10 Blue Lock Characters Synopsis Blue Lock "The story begins with Japan's elimination from the 2018 FIFA World Cup, which prompts the Japanese Football Union to start a programme scouting high school players who will begin training in preparation for the 2022 Cup. Isagi Youichi, a forward, receives an invitation to this programme soon after his team loses the chance to go to Nationals because he passed to his less-skilled teammate —who missed— without trying to make the game-changing goal by himself. Their coach will be Ego Jinpachi, who intends to “destroy Japanese loser football” by introducing a radical new training regimen: isolate 300 young strikers in a prison-like institution called “Blue Lock” and put them through rigorous training aimed at creating “the world's greatest egotist striker.” Check Out : Blue Lock Review Vol 1 & 2 : The beginning of a long story Blue Lock Characters Ranked 45. Yudai Imamura I see very little difference between Imamura and Naruhaya. Imamura felt WAY weaker than most players in his team. He never scored a goal, neither did he played any important role in a match. And when the selection got pretty intense he got eliminated. We didn’t even get to see how he got eliminated unfortunately. 44. Okuhito Lemon Okuhito Lemon played as a goalie and was a member of Team Z. He was later eliminated in the Second Selection. 43. Keisuke & Junichi Wanima - The Best Duo Among Blue Lock Characters Keisuke & Junichi Wanima also known as the “Wanima Brothers” were the member of Team W. Team W heavily rellies on cordination plays between the 'Wanima Brothers.' Their team weapon is pass-and-go playstyle which is very difficult to stop, evern if the adversary is aware of it. 42. Wataru Kuon (Skills: Headers+ Vertical Jump) Wataru Kuon was the main strategist of Team Z. However, he betrayed his team for his own benefit during the First Selection. Although, later on he realized his mistake and gave up his selfishness in order to make his team win. Kuon has an amazing vertical jumping ability which is 68 cm. This allows him to finish nicely with amazing headers. 41. Gurimu Igarashi Gurimu Igarashi is the player member of Team Z wearing the #13 jersey in the team. He specialized in Malice. 40. Jingo Raichi (Skills: Marking+ Immense Stamina) Jingo Raichi was a member of Team Z in the First Selection matches. He played the forward position in the team. Later, after passing the Second Selection he became the part of 6th clear team. He was on the verse of facing off against the Japan U-20 playing for the Blue Lock Eleven. Raichi's stamina seems limitless and was shown in the match against Team Z. At the beginning, Reo only thought of Raichi's man-marking as a nuisance but as the game went on, his stamina started to show and Reo’s playmaking ability started to weaken. Raichi's stamina enables him to continue playing at optimal capacity, which combined with his Man-Marking ability makes him a constant threat in both defensive and offensive phases of play. 39. Ryosuke Kira Kira is a young forward who plays for Matsukaze Kokuō High School football team, he was invited to participate in the Blue Lock Project, alongside Yoichi Isagi. Kira is the first to be eliminated from Blue Lock. To be honest, his way to elimination was quite sad. He was unable to deal with the consequences. This also exposed his negative side and revealed what he thought about Isagi. He was quickly forgotten as a character in the series after his expulsion. 38. Itsuki Wakatsuki Itsuki Wakatski is the Defensive Midfielder in the team Japan U-20. 37. Nijiro Nanase Nijiro Nanase is a substitute player for the team Blue Lock Eleven facing off against Japan U-20. Out of the 300 forwards chosen for the Blue Lock Project, Nanase is ranked #99 and is currently a substitute player for the Blue Lock Eleven against the Japan U-20. 36. Asahi Naruhuya (Skills: Off- Ball Movement) Asahi Naruhuya is the former member/player of Team Z. He was formerly the center-forward player in the team. Like Yoichi Isagi, Asahi uses off-ball movement. However, Asahi seems to be much more experienced and skilled with this ability. He uses this skill to break defensive formation and has keen analytical ability, using the skill in the right place at the right time. He is also good at moving in other player's blind spots and can get past even Isagi with the skill. 35. Aoshi Tokimitsu (Skills: Quickness + Physical Power) Aoshi Tokimitsu is a forward player ranked 3rd in the Second Selection. He was on the verse of facing off against the Japan U-20 playing for the Blue Lock Eleven. Tokimitsu's greatest weapon is his physical strength, which is among the top in Blue Lock. He has been compared to a "muscle bullet" by Yoichi Isagi and even someone as strong as Shoei Baro can barely budge him in a direct contest of physical strength. This level of strength allows Tokimitsu to use his shoulder to charge past an opponent, or to block them off from the ball, making him a good target to hold the ball and set up further plays. Another notable weapon Tokimitsu has is his unlimited stamina. During a high-level match, whereas most players would sooner or later begin to feel the burn of the endgame, Tokimitsu is an exception in that his stamina allows him to continue to operate at almost full capacity. It was during the second selection where Rin took advantage of this weapon to break through the White team's formation, with Tokimitsu only being stopped by desperate and illegal tackles from both Hyoma Chigiri and Barou. Tokimitsu's unlimited stamina makes him a formidable opponent especially in the late stages of a match. 34. Yo Hiori (Skills: Key Passes + Ball Control) Yo Hiori ranked 27 out of the 300 chosen players for the Blue Lock Project. Currently, he is a substitute player for the team Blue Lock Eleven facing off against Japan U-20. He was formerly the member of Team A and the 5th Clear Team. He plays forward, winger and sideback positions in the team. Hiori's strong suit is his ability to remain level-headed and reserved during the game, being able to calmly line up other players for a perfect pass. His combination of vision and ball control led Isagi to refer to him as a "Technician of 'Stillness'", as he serves the role of an anchor for the attack, synchronising the other attackers movements with accurate passes. This makes him a strong playmaker, who can consistently put the ball in a good position for other attackers to score. Hiori's vision enables him to envision the best pass to make in any given situation. Hiori constantly looks around himself during a game to assess the positions of the players around him, as well as the situation of the field, so he can both receive the ball in space and pass the ball into space. It is through this vision that he was able to form an almost telepathic link-up with Rin, trading calm passes and avoiding other players. He also considers the positions of his teammates in and around the goal area, before deciding on right pass. His vision enables him to see plays that his opponent's do not expect, such as his combination with Karasu to get around the U-20. 33. Gagamaru Gin (Skills: Like Body + Acrobatic Display) - Our Favorite Gk Among Blue Lock Characters During the First Selection, Gagamaru Gin was the member of Team Z initially when arrived. He was ranked #88 out of the original 300 forwards chosen to be part of the Blue Lock Project and started as goalie for the Blue Lock Eleven team against the Japan U-20. He currently plays as goalie for Bastard München during the Neo Egoist League. Gagamaru is Goal Poacher. Goal poachers are forwards who wait in the six-yard box or the penalty area for a cross, pass or loose ball and pounce to try to score a goal. The "poaching" refers to the fact that they will often score a goal out of the slightest of opportunities i.e. steal a goal. Goal poachers usually play as centre forwards or second strikers. Gagamaru has excellent body control and reflex, able to adapt to nearly any pass or downright any play. He has a springlike body which he uses for all types of shots and even tackles. His adaptive playstyle has allowed him to score goals for Team Z and last to the 3rd Selection. 32. Zantetsu Tsurugi (Skills: Explosive Acceleration + Left Foot Shooting Power) Zantetsu Tsurugi is a forward player ranked 53 in the Second Selection. He was on the verse of facing off against the Japan U-20 playing for the Blue Lock Eleven. Initially he was the member of Team V during the First Selection. Zantetsu's acceleration is a key weapon in his arsenal. With his quick reactions and incredible acceleration, he can react to any movement his opponent makes and intercept them. Chigiri noted that within 10 meters, even he could not overcome Zantetsu's acceleration, indicating that Zantetsu's speed is most dangerous over short distances. 31. Teru Kitsunezato Teru Kitsunezato is the current forward player of Japan U-20 team. 30. Kento Chou Kento Chou is a member of Japan U-20 playing the forward position in the team . 29. Haru Hayate Haru Hayate is the Denfensive Midfeilder in the Japan U-20 team playing the forward position against the Blue Lock Eleven . He seems to be a calm and collected person when it comes to football. He seems to notice the quirks of other players easily and comments on them. 28. Teppei Neru (Skill: Speed) Teppei Neru is the sideback player in the Japan U-20 team. Neru is considered to be a speed-type defender, who uses his incredible speed to physically outpace attackers and steal from the ball from them. Isagi went to so far as to describe him as "lightning fast", although it is his high reaction speed that enables him to instantly be able to tell the direction the attacker is going, allowing him to use his physical speed to catch up. Using this combination of reaction and physical speed, he was able to lock down Kenyu Yukimiya (known for his 1-on-1 dribbling skills) without much effort. However, he is succeptable to being overcome if he is approached by more than one attacker, as he can react to late to their play. 27. Shuto Sendo Shuto Sendo is a forward player/member in Japan U-20. He felt insulted by those questioning his position as the ace striker of the U-20 team and during the match against Blue Lock he pushes himself and wants to become better, deciding to aim higher and marry a Hollywood actress, instead of a Japanese idol that he previously settled for. 26. Kazuma Niou Kazuma Niou is the member/player in Japan U-20 currently playing as centerback in the team. 25. Jyubei Aryu (Skills: Jumping Power + Long Reach) Jyubei Aryu was ranked 2nd in the Second Selection out of 300 players. Currently, he is centerback in the Blue Lock Eleven team facing off against Japan U-20. Aryu has incredible jumping ability which, compounded with his height, enable to him reach aerial balls from a higher position than most other players in Blue Lock. Aryu has used his jumping ability to intercept long balls and score from long balls, making him an ideal target for a cross or as a centerback who physically overwhelms the opposing player. 24. Ikki Niko (Skills: Spatial Awareness) - The Most Underrated Among Blue Lock Characters During the First Selection, Ikki Niko was the member of Team Y. He was ranked 63 out of the 300 chosen players with currently playing as a centerback in Blue Lock Eleven against Japan U-20. Niko analyzes the entire field, taking account of both his allies and opponent's weapons, positions and actions to be able to determine the next play and respond accordingly. Niko's ability to read the field was rivalling by Isagi's during their match, who is himself one of the most tactically aware players in Blue Lock. Indeed, Isagi himself has on occasion been impressed with the sheer scope of Niko's vision and ability to read the state of play. With his tactical ability, Niko organised Team Y's defensive playstyle, as well as their offensive strategy, acting as the core of the team, breaking up the opponent's attacks and initiating his own team's. Niko has also demonstrated that he can read the way a pass was made and its flight path, to determine the best way to intercept it. 23. Miroku Darai Miroku Darai is the sideback player in the Japan U-20 team. Darai's off the ball movements are used defensively, through anticipation and quick movement he is able to decipher where the opponent is moving, before reaching there first to shut them down. He talks about the "smell" of his opponent's movements, which may indicate an intuitive instinct for the off the ball movements of his mark. His off the ball movements were so good that he could prevent Eita Otoya from moving past him, despite Otoya's speed. His movements also enabled him to extensively man mark Shoei Baro, although he was eventually overcome through sheer physical ability. 22. “Princess” Hyoma Chigiri (Skills: Top Speed) - Our Prefer Speedster Among Blue Lock Characters Hyoma Chigiri also known as “Princess” was a member of Team Z when arrived. Out of 300 chosen player for Blue Lock Eleven, he ranked 44. In the first half match of the Japan National Representative Match, he played as the right sideback for the Blue Lock Eleven against Japan U-20. Chigiri has naturally strong leg muscles and expert footwork, which enables him to run down the field at incredible speeds. Chigiri is generally considered to be the fastest player in Blue Lock and only players with immense speed, like Ryusei Shidou, Eita Otoya, and Zantetsu Tsurugi can compete with him. While his speed is rivaled by a handful of players, as of yet, nobody has been able to beat him in a direct contest of speed. Chigiri has even sped past Oliver Aiku, the #1 defender of the Japan U-20. This speed, combined with his perception and awareness of positioning enables him to choose the appropriate breakthrough point in an opponent's defence and to speed through. 21. “King” Shoei Barou (Skills: Powerful Middle Shot + Charging) - The Most Stupid Among Blue Lock Characters Baro is a very selfish and arrogant type of forward who strives to be the star of the field at all times. When first arriving at Blue Lock, he was a member of Team X during First Selection and tied for top scorer in his designated stratum. After the Blue Lock Eleven played against the Japan U-20, Baro is ranked as one of the top players in Blue Lock. Baro's physique enables him to hold up the ball and physically contest other players. His charging ability allows him to dribble and create chances for himself. His shooting and villainous style enable him to finish off team moves, by devouring his teammates. Baro has one of the best physiques in Blue Lock, as well as having one of the best techniques at his age in Japan, as stated by Anri Teieri. Often Baro is given the freedom to play and devour who he wishes on the field, as shown during the Second Selection, as well as by Ego telling Baro to disregard the team's plan and focus on devouring Isagi against the Japan U-20. He could have not been in this ranking especially since Ryusei Shidou seems to be a better version of him but after have thought for this 10th place and Ikki Nikko seems much more useful but why not? 20. “Ninja” Eita Otoya (Skills: Off the Ball Movement + Swiftness) Eita Otoya is a sideback player in the Blue Block Eleven who initially was a winger in the team. He ranks 4th out the chosen 300 player for the Blue Lock Project. Otoya is incredibly quick on his feet, reacting quickly to opposing players and using his speed to intercept them. He is swift enough to intercept Shidou's Aggressive Dribbles, as well as stop Rin in his tracks. His speed is at such a level that Ego positioned him in the Blue Lock Eleven with the express purpose of using his speed to get in behind the opposing defenders. 19. Kenyu Yukimiya (Skills: Rigid Dribbling + Gyro Shot) - The Most Classy Among Blue Lock Characters Ranked 5th out of the 300 forward chosen players, he currently is the winger in the Blue Lock Eleven facing off Japan U-20. In contrast with Bachira's technical dribbling, Yukimiya's dribbling relies on his own physique, to push past opponents with power and speed. Yukimiya's core style involves bringing a confrontation to the individual level, where he can use his rigid dribbling to get past his opponents in succession. He has shown that he can overcome Rin and then Shidou whilst doing this, proclaiming that in a 1v1 he is the strongest player in Japan (although this was likely a boast). In contrast to his usual 1-on-1 style, when Yukimiya accesses the flow state, he can dribble with more precise movements, cutting into the spaces between both friends and foe. Through focus and analysis, Yukimiya can determine the best route to take in order to penetrate the defense, yet still ad In addition he has Gyro-Shot. This is a higvh shot, with incredible spin, allowing it to drop sharply in mid-air, while moving to the outside. When Yukimiya used this shot, it was very nearly going to score, if not for Aryu and Nagi reading its path. Based on what Reo said, its range is at least 30 meters. 18. “The Assassin” Tabito Karasu (Skills: Analytical Ability + Ball Control + Feint) Also known as “The Assassin”, Tabito Karasu is currently the defensive midfielder in the Blue Lock Eleven. Amongst 300 chosen forwards, he ranked 3rd. He is currently ranked #3 out of the original 300 forwards chosen to be apart of the Blue Lock Project and is currently starting as a defensive midfielder for the Blue Lock Eleven against the Japan U-20. Karasu has the best ball-keeping sense in Blue Lock, due to his spatial and tactical awareness and his unique ability to control space with his hands. By gauging the distance between himself and his opponent, Karasu uses his body (and more specifically his arms) to block them off from the ball, controlling the space and enabling him to either steal the ball from them or dribble past. 17. Rensuke Kunigami (Skills: Finesse Shot + Knucle Shot) He was ranked #50 out of the original 300 forwards chosen to be a part of the Blue Lock Project but was later eliminated from Blue Lock during the final games of Second Selection by Ryusei Shidou but instead of leaving the facility he walked into a mysterious "Wild Card" door that was open to him. After the U-20 match ended, Kunigami finally returned from the "Wild Card" door. Being a high powered left footed shooter, Kunigami is rare type of striker. Kunigami was tied for top scorer on Team Z during the First Selection, and only because another teammate cheated to get their goals to tie with him. When left unmarked he is guaranteed to make an easy goal. illustration By Highend69 After emerging from his time in the Wild Card door, Kunigami's physical abilities had been noted to skyrocket since his last appearance in Second Selection. While the rest of the Germany Stratum Blue Lock players struggled to compare to the Germany U-20 players, Kunigami easily kept up with them during training and ranked amongst the top 3 players in the entire stratum. 16. Nagi Seishiro (Skills: Perfect Ball Control + Trapping) - The Highest Potential Among Blue Lock Characters When he first arrived to Blue Lock he was a member of Team V and was the best player in his designated stratum. After the Blue Lock Eleven played against the Japan U-20, Nagi is ranked as one of the top players in Blue Lock. With Nagi's, perfect ball control, flexible movements, and technical ability he is able to breathe life into even the most difficult or hopeless plays. Read the full article

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d-nghy-ck · 5 years ago

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Citrus Summer

Pairing: Haechan/Lee Donghyuck x Reader

Genre: Fluff, established relationship, romance, a sprinkle of poetry, and a loving makeout.

Warnings: None!

Summary: When his breath fans over your lips, you catch the scent of it. When his fingertips dance across your skin, you feel the zest of it. When he nibbles at your neck, you taste the tang of it. Donghyuck tastes like nostalgia, like citrus on a summer’s day.

Header: User hchan, out of the kindness of her heart, knew I was working on this little piece and created the header for me as a surprise :( I love her so much.

Word Count: 1k

Each kiss is a memory recalled. Each touch is a promise to return. This he tells you, yet not by word.

A warm summer breeze floats through the white lace curtains of your living room, the flowing fabric moving like water on the wind. Light ventures past the window panes, dancing in shimmers on hardwood floors and the forms of you and yours.

Floating through daydreams, Donghyuck sprawls across the hardwood, legs thrown askew and arms knestling his head to catch the reaching summer rays. Perched atop your palms, you admire his serenity from above. From his eyelashes tickling his cheeks, to the speckles flickering across his warm skin in the light, to the golden beams of sun running down his jaw to his neck, your eyes trace the features you’ve so grown to love. A smile pulls at your lips as you take in his relaxed form and think to yourself how blissful it must feel to be so unknowingly ethereal.

With an absentminded appetite for something refreshing on the mind, you run your fingers along the floorboards to meet the cool ceramic collecting fruit before clasping one in your grasp. Between your palms you idly roll an orange and consider that between the fruit and the man beneath you, there lies a clear notion of which is more pleasant to the taste.

Your fingers break the peel as your gaze returns to him, the view enhanced by the spritz of citrus visibly floating in the sunlight. His eyes open languidly as if waking from a slumber and a warm, lazy smile draws across his lips.

“Come here,” you murmur, gesturing with a slice. As he rises, the rustle of his clothes brings an air of fresh linen, swirling with the scent of citrus peel.

His arms reach for you, replacing the sun that graces your skin with his presence that is somehow warmer than those reaching rays or brighter than any beauty of nature. He moves around you, the true origin of your warmth, blanketing you in his comfortable, protective embrace. Simply and lovingly he holds you, covering you in his care, and just his presence alone feels like a devotion, proof of your bond nurtured over time.

His embrace is your sun, your strength. He is thermal, he is radiant. He’s the season within you.

Brushing softly down your arm, his hand closes gently around your wrist, urging your hand to his mouth. Pressing the orange slice to his lips, you hand feed him, one bite, then two. And even when his mouth closes around the final piece, he still chases your fingertips with his lips to deliver tiny little pecks to each print, chuckling softly and humming around his mouthful. His lips pout as he chews, his eyes sweet crescents, a silent communication of trust. With the excuse of savoring any stray sweetness, he licks your fingertips again, giggles bubbling in your chest. The tiniest playful spark in his eyes always sends your heart into palpitations, and you can’t help the heat rising to your face for every kiss he delivers.

The crinkle in his eyes, the curve of his lips, the curls in his hair. The flush on his ears, the speckles along his neck, the veins on his arms. They’re all a reminder.

Donghyuck feels like nostalgia.

He is both the comfort of home and the thrill of reckless adventure. Donghyuck’s kisses taste like the flavor of your memories, constantly rekindled as they flash before your eyes.

The moment you caught him watching you beneath golden summer skies, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, a spark of interest and curiosity. A warm summer wind sweeping his hair back, the sound of crickets, a trickling stream. The memory of him leading you by the hand through grassy fields beneath clear blue skies, bumblebees buzzing by in search of wildflower nectars. The memory of cotton blouses, cheeky grins, and summer swims. The moment he realized he was in love, recognition dawning across his features as he cupped your face close to his that night long ago. The devotions he murmured against your lips in the heat of passion, time and time again.

You see your reflection in his eyes as he watches you, and you drop your gaze unashamedly to study the curve of his lips, recollecting all of the words he’s spoken to you of love and laughter, sadness and doubts, affirmations and reassurances. Time and time again, building trust and admiration in the purest, most human of forms.

His hands roam your body, floating across skin, finally placing his palms on your cheeks once more, gently urging you forward. Leaning to meet you, he presses his warm lips to yours, releasing a soft voiced breath. Time and time again, you’re intoxicated by his allure, sending you into a trance that beckons you deeper into him, hanging on his every intent.

When his breath fans over your lips, you catch the scent of it. When his fingertips dance across your skin, you feel the zest of it. When he nibbles at your neck, you taste the tang of it. When he licks into your mouth, you savor the robust nature of it.

It’s the welcome familiarity, and all of the flavor that he brings. Sour, tart, and bitter, soothed by the contrast of his sweet disposition.

The strength of his hold is the security of rinds. The sound of him is as sweet and heady as nectar. The pulse of him is as rapid as the sugar rushing in your veins.

Each kiss is a memory recalled. Each touch is a promise to return. This he tells you, but not by word.

Yet, with certainty you know: He is sunlight, he is brightness. He is citrus on a summer's day.

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hyperdoll · 1 year ago

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. 𝖒𝖑.

all headers are free for personal use. will link google drive soonish!

sized for NOTION, but can be used for anything.

black

white

pink

red

orange

yellow

green

blue

purple

brown

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harlot-of-oblivion · 5 years ago

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A Lotus In Full Bloom (Part 9)

Vergil finally confronts his feelings for his lovely rose while you untangle the thorns from around your darling devil’s heart.

It’s finally here! Hope ya’ll are ready for some angst, comforting fluff, and all the romance! 🌹😍🌹

Here’s the link to the list of all the flowers featured in this part 🌺😊🌺

If someone had told Vergil over two decades ago that he would not only be a father but also be in his son’s wedding, he would’ve laughed in their face before calling them a fool. But now, here he is checking over his suit for the big day that is only two days away. And he isn’t just part of the wedding party…he’s all set to surprise the happy couple with a violin performance during their first dance with a little help from his lovely rose.

The thought of you summons that warm feeling in his chest as he zips the garment bag up before putting it back in his closet. Both of you have met every single day since the beach party, tirelessly practicing together in your music room until late at night. You still think that your piano skills are woefully inadequate, but he has the utmost confidence in your abilities. He knows that you can perform this unique gift for his son and future daughter-in-law with him.

There’s only enough time for one more practice session before the rehearsal dinner tomorrow, Vergil thought as he finished getting ready in his room. He glances over to the hidden box underneath his bed, reminding himself to pick some fresh flowers for you before heading over to your place. The pit of his stomach drops a little at the thought, knowing deep down that he will no doubt give you the blooms without a verbal confession despite his best efforts to do so this entire week.

Ever since he shared that intimate moment with you among the waves, he has felt this sickening swirl building up inside him; it grows stronger and stronger the more time he spends with you. And every time he intends to finally confess, it crawls up his throat and stifles his words to a mere quiet gasp of frustration. He honestly does not know what’s come over him; what could possibly be stopping a Son of Sparda from admitting his intentions aloud? The very notion of hesitating at all is maddening…and today is his last chance to tell you how he truly feels before both of you get swept up in the final preparations for the wedding.

Vergil looks over at the wall mirror by his bedroom door, giving himself a nod of approval in the reflection before grabbing the Yamato. I won’t hesitate this time, my lovely rose, he vows with a determined huff while exiting his room. It only takes him a few long strides down the hall to turn around the corner by the staircase. And it is there where he comes upon a strange sight: an oafish buffoon that bears a striking resemblance to his little brother is lying across the couch in the shop’s office, groaning loudly while covering his eyes with one arm.

How…curious, he thought with a quirked brow as he descended the stairs. Dante doesn’t even acknowledge the sound of his soft footfalls nor the occasional creaks of the wood on some of the steps. Vergil rolls his eyes at his brother’s overly dramatic display, but he cannot resist asking about his little farce. “And what, pray tell, has you groaning like a stricken cow?” he snidely inquires, pausing by the foot of the stairs as he waits for his brother’s answer.

Dante turns his head and peeks up from behind his arm. “Have you kissed Buttercup yet?”

Vergil’s jaw hardens into a harsh scowl. “What I do while in the company of Y/N is none of your concern.”

“Unbelievable,” Dante mutters under his breath with a shake of his head. “She’s totally in love with you and you’re blowing it!” he exclaims, waving both arms in the air before letting them flop back down on the couch with a frustrated sigh.

Vergil scoffs at his brother’s attempt to pry into his personal life as he walks behind the desk. “I don’t see how our relationship is any of your business.”

Dante grunts as he sits up on the couch. “Just listen to your brother for once, Verg,” he requests sincerely, voice dropping down into a serious tone. “You gotta make your move soon before she gets the wrong idea.”

The familiar sickening swirl starts to coalesce deep within his belly. “The wrong idea about what?” Vergil asks stubbornly, trying his best to ignore the thick lump forming in his throat as he stares down his brother from across the room.

“Do I really need to spell it out for ya?” Dante asks incredulously as he leans back against his seat. “Man, Buttercup’s really got her work cut out for her,” he sighs with a disappointed frown, crossing one ankle atop his knee while stretching his arms out on the back of the couch as he continues talking. “Being strung along by my dumbass brother, who can’t even admit his own feelings and JUST KISS HER ALREADY!”

Vergil’s brow twitches irritably at his brother’s rowdy voice as it bellows through the shop. He can feel a surly retort forming on the tip of his tongue but just before he can spit it out, the subtle movement of something shifting out of place catches his eye. His head tilts inquisitively as he leans over and peers down behind the radiator, spotting a very gaudy piece of poster board that depicts what looks to be some sort of seaside scenery. But what really grabs his attention is the huge bold letters that make up the header of this poster:

OPERATION: GET DUMBASS BROTHER AND BUTTERCUP TOGETHER

“Dante…” he growls, feeling every last ounce of his composure turning to dust as he reaches for the poster. He pulls it out from its poor hiding place, silently seething as he reads the intricate instructions detailing some of the events that played out during the beach party. “What’s the meaning of this?” he demands, turning the poster around and pointing at the childish drawing of two stick figures holding hands with a deathly glower.

His brother has the audacity to shrug his shoulders defensively. “Whaaaaat? You needed a little push in the right direction and I just-”

“You insufferable wretch!”

Dante grunts as a couple of summoned swords pierce his chest, effectively cutting him off as the offending poster gets shredded by the blue ripple of a small Judgement Cut. “I know you’ve always loved meddling with my private affairs, but you better tread carefully, little brother…” Vergil stalks over to the couch and looms over his brother as he finishes his venomous warning. “I’m in no mood for your foolishness!”

“Maybe if you weren’t so helpless when it comes to romance, you wouldn’t need my help putting your tulips together!” Dante remarks bluntly through gritted teeth, clutching his chest as he rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “Look, I know that you somehow managed to nail at least one other lady back in the day, but that doesn’t mean-”

Vergil’s entire body becomes rigid as he draws back from the couch, averting his fierce gaze towards a messy corner of the shop. Dante stops short at the sudden yet subtle shift in his overall demeanor. The air becomes still and eerily quiet since the shop is absent of the jukebox’s abhorrent music for once…until one of them breaks the silence.

“Wait a minute,” Dante murmurs, resting both hands on his knees while looking up at him suspiciously. “Are you afraid of telling her?”

“Don’t be absurd,” Vergil scoffs, barely giving his brother a passing glance as the sickening swirl starts churning in the pit of his stomach.

“Holy shit,” Dante whispers, eyes widening in shock as he keeps goading him into talking more. “You really are afraid, aren’t ya?”

Vergil glares down at his little brother. “I’m no such thing!” he snarls, lips twisting into a bitter grimace while his fists ball up impatiently, one clenching around the Yamato tightly while the other pulls his leather glove taut over his knuckles.

Dante snorts with a nod of his head. “Really? Then why haven’t you swept her off her feet yet, huh?” he inquires with a knowing smirk that only grows wider at the stoic silence that answers his question. “Something’s holding you back…I can tell,” he sighs wearily, crossing his arms and leaning back against the couch again. “So, what’s scaring you off from a total babe like Buttercup?” he wonders aloud, scratching his scruffy chin while staring up at the grody ceiling in thought.

“I will eviscerate you on the spot if you don’t cease this infuriating conversation immediately!” Vergil commands with a vicious growl, lifting the Yamato to show his thumb at the ready below the hilt.

“If it’s really about making the first move, then you can’t say I didn’t try to help!” Dante points out with a wave of his hand, completely ignoring his final warning as he persists with his nosy musings. “C’mon, Verg…talk to me. Are ya afraid of commitment? Or maybe you’re scared she’ll reject-”

Vergil feels the last shred of his self-control snap as he pops the handle up with a loud metallic click. Then, he teleports in front of his brother before sinking the Yamato deep within his gut. Dante grunts from the inflicted pain as he struggles to move, but the sword’s razor-sharp edge has him pinned to the back of the couch. “I’ve had enough of your mindless chatter!” he fumes, giving his blade a grinding twist before withdrawing it with a furious growl.

Dante hisses and doubles over on the couch, clutching his belly while groaning in agony. Vergil pays his brother no mind as he flicks the Yamato clean before sheathing the blade, not caring about making an even bigger mess of the shop as he turns away from his brother. “I’m going for a walk,” he barks while marching over towards the entryway, “and if you know what’s good for you…” He pauses with his hand on the door handle.

“You will not follow me.”

And with those final cautionary words, he jerks the door open and stomps out of the shop in an awfully foul mood. He quickly steps down the stairs before unsheathing the Yamato once more. The faint rumble of thunder booms across the sky as he opens a portal to anywhere but here. His keen ears hear the shop door swing open just as he walks through the portal and some gruff cursing as it seals shut behind him.

Vergil finds himself standing in some sparse woodlands. He has no idea where he is exactly, and he does not care to find out. The only thing occupying his thoughts now is the pure unbridled rage running through his body like a wildfire in the dead of a blistering cold night. And with no one around to witness the crack in his carefully constructed façade of cool composure…the devil inside him roars and claws beneath his skin as this white hot anger fully consumes him, triggering the transformation of his other demonic form with a loud snarl.

The leaves of the surrounding trees tremble at the force of his demonic power as it rushes through the woods. His scorching hot breath comes out in aggravated puffs as he waits for the anger to subside, but his brother’s false assumptions keep ringing through his mind…making his blood boil even hotter as he takes to the air. How dare he make such foolish claims…fear doesn’t suit a Son of Sparda! he seethes while zooming over the scattered canopy of trees.

Then why haven’t you swept her off her feet yet, huh?

Dante’s astute observation strikes at the heart of the matter just as a streak of lightning flashes through the sky. The sickening swirl is back and stronger than ever as it coils into a nauseous knot deep within his gut, forcing him to halt his furious flight as thunder crashes down all around him with a loud crack. He hovers amid the charged air, hoping that the rumbling roll of the oncoming storm would drown out the maddening thoughts of his mind…but the persistent voice of his brother keeps chipping away at his resolve.

Holy shit…You really are afraid, aren’t ya?

Something’s holding you back…I can tell.

Are ya afraid of commitment? Or maybe you’re scared she’ll reject-

Vergil lets out a tormented roar, no longer able to stand the torrent of thoughts whirling in his head. The distorted tone of his suffering melds with the deafening boom of thunder as the sky finally breaks open. He stares up at the dark clouds and as the heavy drops of summer rain douse his armored face, he cannot help but think of the day he first spoke to you…how he found you standing in the rain moments after you brazenly bloomed before his very eyes. You were the image of pure tranquility…staring up at the sky while your lovely face glistened in the sprinkling rain.

The very thought of you drains every bit of his bitter anger out of him…leaving only misery and regret in its wake. He slowly descends towards an open area of the woodlands, no longer feeling up to flying away from the truth. His demonic form fades away with a quick flash as soon as he lands, kneeling upon the wet and grassy ground with a dull thud. The heavy rainfall immediately soaks through his slicked back hair and signature coat now that the thick armor plating is gone. But he hardly notices his drenched state while the thunderstorm raging on above, dejectedly hanging his head as he finally faces the truth buried deep within his tangled briars.

I’m afraid of getting hurt...again.

The hurtful memory of his mother leading Dante by the hand away from danger flashes before his eyes. He remembers seeing them enter the manor together from the playground…leaving him behind with the demons running amok. It was on that fateful day that he first felt the sting of rejection…being abandoned by his mother and watching her save his brother shaped his ruthless outlook on life for years to come. And even though he now knows that she not only turned back but died trying to save him…it still does not erase the pain he went through while enduring his past trauma and all the trials and tribulations thereafter.

I’m afraid of being rejected…again.

Vergil clenches his fists as another unwelcome memory comes to taunt him. He squeezes his eyes shut, hoping to bury the image of a woman clad in red back into the deeper recesses of his mind. What a strange twist of misfortune…he can recall the day she spurned his offer to stay with her, and yet he cannot even remember her face nor any other details about the mother of his only son! And with that little tryst, he learned a harsh yet necessary truth: rejection is inevitable when you’re a Son of Sparda.

But knowing a truth does not mean you have to accept it, my darling devil.

The sweet lilt of your voice shakes him out of his brooding thoughts, bringing him back down to the present. Even when you are not there with him…you know exactly what to say to pull him back from the darkest part of his crumbling soul. He blinks and wipes away droplets of rain from his eyes, but the relentless downpour of the storm blows against his gloomy face as he picks himself up from the grassy ground. The painful memories of his past slowly recede as he wanders aimlessly through the marshy woodlands, completely despondent while a litany of self-loathing spins uncontrollably around in his head.

How can a prickly devil such as myself ever be worthy of her love and affection?

I have nothing to offer her except torment and despair…

There’s no sense in delaying the inevitable.

After all, I’d only be a burden to her if I kept denying what I’ve always known since the beginning of our unlikely relationship...

I’m unworthy of the lovely rose that has bloomed within my heart.

His sulking spell comes to a screeching halt when the faint glimmer of a pink flower catches his eye. He suddenly becomes aware of surroundings; the thunderstorm has dwindled down to a light shower and the sky has grown dark with the approaching night. But the total loss of time doesn’t fully sink in as he moves in closer towards a peaceful pond, feeling drawn to the exquisite blossom upon its serene surface.

Whenever you find yourself consumed by despair…remember the spirit of the lotus.

The soothing tone of your voice drowns out his dreadful contemplation. He recalls the day he heard those wise words pass from your lips…he shared a meal with you for the very first time among the beautiful blooms of your garden. A lotus begins its existence in the dark and murky depths, your charming voice continues to ring through his head as he wades through the pond towards the lone lotus. For it to fully bloom it must endure those harsh conditions, pushing through the mud and the muck as it rises towards clearer waters. He reaches down and cups the elegant bloom with both of his hands while your flowery anecdote ends on a happy and hopeful note.

Eventually, its resilience pays off when the lotus breaks through the surface and its petals slowly unfurl to soak up the rays of the sun for the very first time.

Vergil summons a sword and carefully cuts the lone lotus from the pond. I may have missed the practice session…but perhaps this will make up for my tardiness, he surmises while storing the lotus inside his soaking wet coat before calling for the Yamato. He finds himself facing one last truth as he opens a portal just outside the gate behind your house:

You may be better off without him…but he simply can’t let go of the lovely rose that has miraculously bloomed within his briars.

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You’ve had a pretty hectic week since the beach party: between putting together all the floral arrangements and many musical interludes with Vergil, you’ve been busier than a bee in the spring. And you’re only going to be buzzing around even harder now that the big day is only two days away! All of your time today was spent doing last minute preparations before the wedding rehearsal, making sure all the flowers are accounted for before being delivered, and squeezing in one last practice session before the imminent chaos of a wedding frenzy.

Well, that was the plan anyway, but then Vergil didn’t show up on the agreed time, which struck you as very odd…he’s always been so punctual and has even been cross with you on a couple occasions whenever he had to wait for you to join him! You tried calling his cellphone after waiting for a while, thinking that maybe he just got delayed or something…but there was no answer. And there must not be anyone at the shop either since nobody picked up the phone there either.

Your gut tells you that something is wrong, but you’re at a loss of what to do about it. You thought about contacting either Kyrie or Nero, but the soon-to-be wedded couple already have enough on her mind. Plus, you do not want to add any unnecessary stress if it turns out to be nothing at all. So, you decide to just keep an eye on your phone while putting the finishing touches on the dress you’ve made especially for the happy occasion.

I hope he’s okay, you thought, worrying your lower lip while reinforcing the floral embroidery with a needle and some thread. You try to stay focused on the task at hand, but your mind keeps going back to your darling devil. Vergil has become such a huge part of your everyday life ever since that fateful rainy day in the book café. It feels so empty without his familiar presence near you now…always watching from the corner of his eye with a soft smile or sharing a favorite passage from a beloved book. And even though your romantic feelings haven’t technically been reciprocated aloud, you know that your affection has taken root and with a little more patience…just a little more…

Another roll of distant thunder echoes through the room as the storm finally lets up, but now it has gotten dark outside. Your eyes flicker over to check the time on a nearby clock and see that you have missed dinner…by six hours! Sweet basil, I should really pay more attention! you berate yourself while cutting the thread with your teeth. You stick your sewing needle into a stuffed rose bud that serves as your pin cushion and gather up all the spare scrapes of tulle, lace, and satin. As you hang up the dress, you note that it’s so close to being complete; all it needs is some minor fixes and a good steaming before it’s ready for the wedding.

You sigh and head downstairs for a belated dinner, wondering if you should heat up some leftovers or just make a sandwich with some veggie chips. By the time you get to the kitchen, you’ve made up your mind and open the fridge to take out your homemade chicken salad with grapes and pecans. Your stomach growls impatiently as you grab a couple slices of ciabatta bread and put this simple meal together on a plate. You add some salt and vinegar zucchini chips to the plate before pouring yourself a tall glass of iced hibiscus tea.

“There…now it’s time to eat, drink, and be rosemary!” you cheer, softly giggling to yourself while taking your meal to the small dining table across from the kitchen.

You set your plate down before pulling a chair out, but the sudden ringing of your doorbell stops you from taking your seat. Huh…that’s strange, you muse with a curious tilt of your head, it’s a bit late for receiving visitors. You bite your lower lip and twirl a stray lock of your hair around your fingers while considering your options: it would be rude to not answer the door…after all, it could be someone in need of help! But then you remember the worried face of your darling devil that day in your garden when the demons attacked, recalling the promise you made to not put yourself into any possible danger ever again…

The doorbell rings once more and you finally decide to see who it could possibly be since it seems they have no intention of leaving. And besides, it could be Vergil, you reason while making your way down the hall. And he could even be hurt! you add in panic, picking up the pace until coming to a halt just on the other side of the front door. You take a quick peek through the tiny peephole and your starving stomach drops at the sight of a familiar stoic face on the other side of the door.

“What in carnation!” you gasp in shock before ripping the front door open. “Vergil? What are you doing out so late in this rain?”

The devil in question just silently stands there looking sullen and soaking wet as he glances down at you. His icy blue eyes are filled to the brim with melancholy and unspoken regret. And his perfectly styled white hair is now disheveled and framing his sodden face. He shows no sign of hearing your inquiry and continues to stare down at you quietly. You do not know what may have happened, but whatever it is…it’s shaken him to the core, and you will not idly stand by while your darling devil suffers alone.

“Here,” you whisper while offering your hand, “come inside.”

Vergil seems to ponder for a moment while his eyes dart down towards your hands. Then, he raises one gloved hand and places it upon your own warm and welcoming palm. You gently guide him inside your home, noting how cold and damp his skin is as you close the front door. “Alright,” you sigh in relief now that he is safe within the comforting walls of your home. “Now, you need some dry clothes to change into since you’re absolutely drenched!” you explain with a sweet and cheery grin.

You start to walk towards the stairs, but the slight tugging on your hands stops you in your tracks. “Don’t worry,” you murmur, looking back over your shoulder at the man who not only stole your heart, but also needs your help right now. “Let me take care of you, Vergil,” you plead quietly, reassuring him with a soft squeeze of your hand. The spark of concern within his eyes recedes as he nods his head in consent.

Your lips curl into a gracious smile as you lead him up the stairs and straight towards your bedroom. You hope that he doesn’t notice the mess in his distressed state as you usher him into your adjoining bathroom. “I’m gonna scrounge up some spare clothes while you dry off,” you explain with a gentle nod of your head. “And feel free to the shower if you want,” you suggest while pointing to one corner of your bathroom. “There should be some soap and shampoo already in there.”

Vergil looks at the glass doors of your shower and back at you before rubbing the back of your hand in understanding with his thumb. You squeeze his hand one last time before backing away towards the door. “Just uh…put your wet clothes right outside the door and I’ll take care of them,” you inform while stepping out of the bathroom, trying hard to not let your mind wander into more steamy territory. “And I’ll uh…leave those spare clothes just outside the door for you, okay?”

You give one last encouraging smile before closing the bathroom door. Your mind starts to race as you rush over to the closet and start frantically searching for anything that comes close to being his size. But all you can find is an oversized T-shirt and some baggy cotton pants that you sometimes wear to bed. Hmm…they might fit, you ponder before tossing them onto your bed along with a floral satin bathrobe you spot hanging on your vanity mirror. Then, you scurry down the upstairs hall and open the door to your childhood room, remembering that you had a large quantity of flowery fabric that you once used to make some curtains.

This will do nicely if all else fails! you reckon with a crafty grin while cutting a huge section of the fabric off the spool. You fold it up nicely and head back to your bedroom to put it with the assortment of clothing by the bathroom door. A pile of soggy blue clothes is waiting right outside the door just as you requested, so you quickly drop off the dry clothes and carefully gather up his signature coat, vest, leather pants, boots, gloves…

Your eyes widen when you realize that there isn’t any underwear to be found. You look towards the bathroom door just as the shower turns on and you find yourself thinking about all the times you spent together, wondering if he had always…you can’t even finish the thought without blushing. There’s no time for dilly-dallying! you reprimanded yourself with a shake of your head before marching out of your bedroom and back downstairs to take care of Vergil’s wet clothes.

You zoom by the belated dinner that is still waiting for you on the small dining table, but you ignore it for now and open the door to the laundry room. As you place the pile of clothes on top of the dryer, you catch a whiff of what smells like the lake in your hometown: murky and a little bit musty with a hint of fresh rain. Did he go swimming in the middle of that thunderstorm? you wonder while sorting through the wet clothes. You decide to at least wash his signature coat and hang the rest up to dry since they need special treatment to get clean.

It only takes you a couple seconds to check the pockets before putting his coat into the washer with a scoop of laundry detergent. Then, you dig up a few hangers lying around before hanging up the rest of his clothes except for his boots, which go underneath your ironing board to prevent any tripping. You walk out of the laundry room and your stomach growls impatiently as you pass by your neglected dinner again…but the sudden thought of preparing a place for Vergil to sleep delays your meal for just a bit longer as you rush back upstairs.

The only other bedroom you have is your old childhood room, but it’s more of a supply closet now for various things. And your mother’s small and quaint library would work if it weren’t for all the dust plus the lack of furniture. So, that only leaves your room or the couch in your living room…you can already feel your cheeks heating up at the thought of inviting Vergil to share your bed. But your heart tells you that despite the tempting opportunity, now is not the time to pull such a risky move since it’s obvious that something is troubling him…and you’re going to help soothe his sorrowful soul.

You enter your room and notice that the shower is no longer running as you head towards the closet again. And as you walk back out with an arm full of pillows and blankets, you note that the assortment of dry clothes you left out is now gone. You hurry down the stairs and dump the pillows onto a nearby chair so that you can lay a couple of blankets out on the couch. Then, you replace all the decorative pillows with comfier ones while looking over your handy work. But when you take in the overall size of your couch, you start to wonder if his long legs will even be able to rest on the couch comfortably.

Well, it’ll have to do, you thought with a resigned sigh while turning around to check up on your devilish guest.

“Friggin’ figs!”

The sudden appearance of Vergil quietly lurking behind you makes your heart skip a beat as you jump back a little. You clutch your chest while taking a couple of deep breaths as your eyes linger up and down his form. The floral satin robe stretches taut around his shoulders, and you guess that it must’ve been too short since the flowery fabric is wrapped around his waist and hanging down below his knees. His eyes still have a gloomy spark within their icy blue depths as they stare back at you through his damp hair. And even with that pouty frown on his handsome face, he looks a lot better than when he first walked into your home a little while ago. So, you let your usual quip about wrapping a bell around his neck die of your tongue and give him a relieved smile.

“I brought out some extra pillows and blankets just in case you needed them,” you explain, gesturing behind you towards the now ready-for-bed couch. “But it might be a bit too small for you,” you tack on sheepishly, biting your lower lip in thought while Vergil takes a couple steps closer to you. “Maybe I should just sleep here while you…take…” you gradually trail off as he brings one hand around from behind his back to reveal an extraordinarily beautiful pink lotus flower. Your heart thrums like a buzzing dragonfly as you reach out to caress one of its many elegant petals.

“Is this why you were completely soaked from head to toe?” you inquire, realizing that he must have waded out into a deep pond to pick this flower of pure devotion. He remains silent as you look up at him, but the way his eyes soften for the barest of moments before slowly blinking tells you it’s part of the reason why he’s so drenched. Your lips quirk into a fond smile at the thought of your prim and proper devil trudging through mucky water for a most wondrous bloom just so he could give it to you.

“It’s getting late,” you murmur while lowering your affectionate gaze to the offered flower, taking it from his hand and holding it close to your heart. “We need to get some rest since the wedding rehearsal is tomorrow and-”

“Stay with me.”

Your eyes widen and snap back up to meet his solemn gaze. Vergil takes another step closer to you, reaching up with one hand to cup your face. You find that you cannot deny his earnest request as you lean into his touch and shiver at his warm touch as he caresses your rosy cheek. “Okay…but let me just-”

The very loud and hungry growl of your stomach abruptly ends the tender moment. Vergil furrows his brow in confusion while you softly giggle and pat your belly. “I was about to eat dinner when you arrived,” you reveal with a bashful smirk. He frowns sadly at your words and begins to move away, but you place your hand on top of his before it can leave your cheek and press a soft kiss against his wrist.

“Let me just grab my plate and bring it in here,” you continue while rubbing the back of his hand. “I can also make you something to eat too if you haven’t had dinner yet,” you kindly insist with a small smirk.

Vergil declines your offer of dinner with a shake of his head. Your lips press one last kiss against his wrist before excusing yourself with a light pat on the back of his hand. You place the precious lotus flower on the coffee table before dashing to your neglected sandwich, which is still patiently waiting along with your now lukewarm drink. But you don’t seem to notice as you pick it all up and hurry back to the living room.

You take a seat on the couch and invite Vergil to join you by patting the empty cushion beside you with a pleasant smile. The corners of his mouth twitch into a soft smile as he sits down close to you. The only sound filling the comfortable silence between you two is the light tapping of rain against the roof of your house. His stiff posture gradually unwinds as he watches you from the corner of his eye while you finally eat your dinner. You give him a veggie chip after every other bite of your sandwich, which he always accepts despite turning down your earlier offer of food.

You ask if he still needs some company before going to bed as soon as you are finished eating your dinner. He responds with the same soft request while squeezing your hand within his firm grip. His eyes track your every move as you collect the dirty dishes before standing up, never letting your hand go until you let him know that you will only be gone for a moment. “I can’t very well sleep in this dress now, can I?” you ask with a soft giggle, slightly swinging your clasped hands while gesturing towards your pink and white floral skirt.

Vergil nods his head in understanding and kisses the back of your hand before letting it go. You walk back to the kitchen to put the dirty dishes in the sink, and then you quickly make your way upstairs to get ready for bed. Some of your daydreams about giving your darling devil a place to stay after a rigorous battle with demons start running through your mind while picking out a nightgown. You also recall one particular daydream about patching up his wounds after saving you from mortal peril…which somehow leads to you writhing in pleasure beneath him…

Your cheeks feel like they are on fire by the time you finally settle on wearing a long nightgown with a white floral pattern. You get undressed and slip on the gown before letting down your hair, pushing all the salacious thoughts out of your mind with a flustered shake of your head. After taking a few more minutes to use the bathroom and brush your teeth, you head downstairs and hurry back towards the laundry room to put his signature coat into the dryer before rejoining your darling devil in the living room.

Vergil hasn’t moved an inch since you left, still sitting motionless on the couch until he hears your dainty footsteps. He raises his head up at your soft approach, and you swear his eyes seem to dimly glow as they roam up and down your shapely form. Your body shivers at his blatant gaze as you adjust some of the pillows on one end of the couch before grabbing one of the numerous blankets you brought for him. You know…it would’ve made more sense to give him one of these instead of that huge piece of fabric, you silently admit, hiding the embarrassment of making such a silly decision with a coy smile.

You sit back down on the couch and lie back against the pillows, beckoning Vergil to come join you while holding both your arms out towards him. He only hesitates for a moment before crawling over and laying his head just below your chin while you cover both of your bodies with the blanket. His arms wrap around your waist, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You nuzzle the top of his head while your arms encircle his broad shoulders, sheathing his weary soul with the love and affection you have for him.

Both of you lie there on the couch swathed in each other’s comforting presence while the rest of the world passes by in silence. Vergil has only spoken three words since arriving at your doorstep, never revealing what exactly is wrong. But now that he’s safe within your arms, you can feel the faint trickling of tears dripping against your neck, hidden away from your view as you snuggle him closer. You do not ask why he’s crying…you know that will only thicken the prickly briars around his heart. Instead, you just let him express the inner turmoil currently raging inside him while providing a safe place for him to release all these pent-up emotions churning inside him.

The harsh downpour from earlier has now lessened to a light rainfall, barely occupying the empty air with its pitter pattering of the dissipating storm. You can still feel Vergil trying to put up a strong front despite the tears pooling in the groove between your neck and chest. Your fingers brush through his soft hair while you press a comforting kiss upon his forehead, wondering how you can possibly bring peace to his troubled mind. The only solution that pops into your head is what your grandma used to do whenever you were sad and upset: sing you to sleep with a lullaby. So, you begin to softly sing one of your favorite lullabies from your childhood, hoping that the serene lilt of your song will help soothe your darling devil’s soul:

Count to one, count to two, where do flowers grow?

Underneath the window where children softly doze

The moon shining brightly makes every petal glow

Count to three, count to four, where do flowers bloom?

Resting upon the mirror frame in mama's room,

A sweet little bud of a beautiful flower of blue

Let us count them all, let us count them all,

All the lovely flowers blooming, let us count them all!

Count to seven, count to eight, as we fall asleep

Every child is dreaming of fragrant flowers sweet

And momma makes a bouquet for you to keep

The soft cadence of your voice fills the room, banishing the gloomy air surrounding you with every refrain of your sweet lullaby. You feel all the tension slowly leave Vergil’s body until all that you’re left with is a totally relaxed devil sinking into your loving embrace. One of your hands rubs up and down his back while the other continues to rake your fingers through his hair, hoping that you lulled him to sleep while your eyes droop from your own drowsiness. You try to fight it off, wanting to be there for him just in case he needs you, but you feel yourself drifting off…clutching onto him while trying to stay grounded in the waking world…

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

You’re not aware of finally succumbing to sleep until the first ray of dawn shines through the window. You slowly open your eyes and start to wonder why you are sleeping on the couch instead of your very comfy bed…but then you feel the soft touch of familiar lips kissing your neck. The memory of Vergil showing up at your doorstep in the middle of a storm swiftly dispels your confusion. You hug the man that makes your heart sing like a songbird in the morning while his lips leave your neck to bestow a light peck on your cheek.

Vergil props himself up with one arm and brushes a few locks of your hair away from your weary face. “Good morning, my lovely rose,” he murmurs with a fond smirk.

“Mmm…good morning,” you hum, sweetly smiling back at him while looking down with a demure tilt of your head. “Feeling any better now that you’ve had some rest?” you inquire, fighting the urge to yawn while rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Yes,” he replies with a firm nod. “But sleep isn’t what lifted my spirits,” he admits, softly caressing your cheek as his silver blue eyes shine with admiration.

You happily beam up at him and quietly bask in this intimate moment while leaning into his touch before asking if he would like some morning tea. He gladly accepts your offer with a slight nod of his head and sits up so that you can get up from the couch. You catch a glimpse of his bare legs in all their glory before he covers them up with the blanket. The flowery fabric must’ve come loose during his sleep, you surmise, spotting the piece of fabric in question down on the floor by the couch. Warm tingles flutter around in your stomach like a swarm of butterflies as you hop off the couch and rush towards the kitchen before you make a blushing fool of yourself so early in the morning.

It takes you a few minutes to brew a couple cups of blackberry and mint tea while pushing away all the elaborate daydreams that try to occupy your thoughts. You make your way back to the living room and hand Vergil his cuppa with a kind smile before taking a seat next to him. Both of you drink your tea in comfortable silence, enjoying the sweet tartness of blackberries while the refreshing undertone of mint banishes the remnants of sleep from your mind. You peek up at him between every other sip of your tea, wondering if you should even bring up what happened to him yesterday.

You wait until he’s about done with his tea before finally broaching the subject. “Do you want to talk about what made you so upset?”

Vergil pauses at your question while setting his cup down on the coffee table. You give him a moment to recover before continuing. “You don’t have to tell me anything,” you softly reassure with a comforting pat on his arm. “And if you need anything else, please don’t hesitate to-”

“You’ve already done so much for me,” he interjects, staring down at you with dejected eyes. “And it is I that should return the favor and explain myself.” He takes your partly finished tea and sets it next to his empty cup before turning his body towards you on the couch while holding both of your hands. His thumb sweeps across your knuckles as he takes a moment to collect his thoughts. You cannot help but to admire his handsome face while waiting for him to speak, wondering if his unkempt hair always frames those beautifully blue eyes of his every morning.

Vergil takes a deep breath through his nose before pinning you down with his pensive gaze. “For a long time, I genuinely believed that my mother abandoned me during the attack on our childhood home. I’ve endured for years with that burdensome truth hanging over my head until…” he trails off, squeezing your hands while closing his eyes for a moment before going on. “It turns out that she did try to save me…she just didn’t make it before…” he pauses again as the trauma of his childhood breaks through his voice.

Your eyes begin welling up with unshed tears as he takes a shuddering breath, wanting to wrap your darling devil within your protective embrace. But he quickly composes himself with another calm and more even breath, and you resist the urge to pull him into a hug for now as he continues to speak. “And then there was this woman who I thought…” he bows his head and rubs the back of your hands with his thumbs as he tells you the sad ending of that romance. “She spurned me even after I confessed my desire to stay by her side.”

You hear the sharp pang of heartache in his words, which dredges up your own personal experiences with the painful sting of rejection. A single tear starts trickling down your cheek as you lean over and nuzzle up against his chest, squeezing his hands in understanding while he finishes his explanation. “I finally just resigned myself to living a life spent alone, vowing to never let anyone get too close again since all they ever bring is pain and suffering...until now.”

Vergil grasps your shoulder and gently pushes you back from his chest. “I find myself wanting to spend my every waking moment with you,” he earnestly confesses, bringing his hand below your chin and lifting your face up so that he can stare into your teary eyes. “The lovely rose who has captivated the heart and soul of this crumbling devil before you,” he adds with a sincere smile, cupping your lovely face and wiping away your warm tears with his thumb.

Your heart thrums within your chest like a hummingbird as his heartfelt confession graces your ears. You gaze up at the man who has cleared a path through his prickly briars to the heart and soul of his very being. You’ve longed to hear those words ever since that day in the book café where you finally found the courage to speak to him. It ended with you making the promise of only taking a small step among the briars and yet, here you are now…just one last step away from the alluring devil that has captured your heart and soul as well.

Vergil leans down and rests his head against your brow, still rubbing your cheek fondly while staring deeply into your hopeful eyes. You’re drawn to the flicker of conviction within the depth of his icy blue eyes, and you feel yourself being pulled in closer and closer…but the sudden flash of uncertainty gives you pause. You silently ask if this is truly what he wants with a tilt of your head. He sighs and takes both of your hands once more, closing his eyes before lifting his head to press a soft kiss between your brow.

“I have nothing to offer to you in return,” he murmurs sadly against your skin. “And I’m not worthy of your love and affection.”

Your eyes widen in astonishment as you rear your head back. “But you’ve already given me the best gift, my darling devil,” you reveal, shaking your head at his silly assumption with an amused smirk.

“Truly?” he whispers while the little crinkle between his brow that you’ve always found so endearing furrows in confusion.

“Of course!” you giggle softly, nodding your head as you lean in closer. “I’ve seen your requited love with every flower you’ve ever given me.” Your eyes glance over at the exquisite lotus flower still sitting on the coffee table near your forgotten cup of tea. “And with every soft caress upon my cheek…” You lift your arm and trace up along his elegant jaw with the back of your hand. “And with every gentle kiss pressing so sweetly…”

You lean up as far as you can without leaving your seat and press your lips just above the corner of his mouth, mimicking his previous kisses at the beach and by the camellias. All signs of lingering doubt vanish from his eyes, which only leaves a fierce flicker that sparks into unbridled desire. He leans down and wraps his arms around you while lowering his head towards your chest, pulling you closer to him until you are practically sitting in his lap. You feel his mouth moving just below your neck as he softly recites what sounds like a poem, but the intimate touch of his lips muddles your mind while his sensuous voice makes your body tremble with anticipation:

Innocent breasts, when I have looked upon them,

Would that my hands were there,

How have I craved, and dreaming thus upon them,

Love wakened from despair.

Vergil pauses and nuzzles your neck for a moment before drawing back to pull you even closer to him. You clutch the floral satin robe around his shoulders and let out a shuddering sigh as he cups your flushed cheek once more, meeting your ardent gaze while gently nestling his face closer to your own. His thumb slowly traces your gaping mouth as he continues his riveting recitation:

Beauty on lips flaming,

Roses red with her shaming,

And I with passion burning

And with my whole heart yearning

For her mouth, her mouth, her mouth,

That on her beauty I might slake my drouth.

A soft whimper creeps up your throat when the amorous poem comes to an end, but the feel of his soft lips crashing against your mouth turns the whimper into an enraptured moan. You tilt your head slightly while your arms slide up around his neck, letting him have more access to your lips as you kiss him back with wild abandon. All the pent-up tension of the last few months is finally released as both of your lips smack against each with feverous hunger. One of your hands slithers down his chest and slips beneath the satin robe before resting right over his heart. You let the rhythm of his passionate heartbeat lull you into a rapturous stupor, relishing the sight, the smell, the feel, the taste…just everything about the devil sets your heart aflame.

Vergil squeezes your hip with one hand while the other rakes through your hair, cradling your head as he swipes his tongue out against your lower lip. You part your lips and softly moan as he plunges in, showing no mercy as he explores the cavern of your mouth with his devilish tongue. His movements are a bit clumsy from lack of practice, but his enthusiasm makes up for it as he guides you to lie back on the couch, never breaking away from your lips while enclosing you beneath his body. You surge forth and entangle your tongue with his own while pulling him tighter against you, greedy for more of your darling devil’s kiss after waiting for so long. The outside world fades away and time becomes meaningless as both of your lips silently beg for more, more, more…

The unexpected chime of your doorbell rings through the room, but neither of you cease your heady kissing as it rings again…and again…until a series of very loud knocking cracks against your front door. Vergil finally breaks away from your gasping mouth with a growl, glaring towards your front door with spite in his eyes. You are about to wonder who could be visiting this early in the morning aloud when a familiar voice booms through the door:

“Hey, Buttercup! Anyone home?”

Dante gives another ring of the doorbell along with some more knocking, which only deepens the vicious scowl on his brother’s face. You sigh softly and cup his cheek before turning his harsh gaze back towards you with a tender caress of your thumb. His silvery blue eyes instantly soften as soon as they peer down at your flushed face, and he smirks with pride while bending down to kiss your reddened lips. He tries to pry your lips open once more, but you gently push him back before his tempting tongue can sweep away.

“We both know that he’s not going anywhere until we answer,” you point out while the knocking gets even louder. “Plus, it sounds like he’s about to break down my door!”

Vergil remains still as he stares down you, mulling over your reasoning as his brother’s persistence makes his brow twitch with annoyance. “Foolishness,” he growls softly before sitting up on the couch so that you can go get the door. The floral satin robe loosened up a little during your heated kiss, so you do your best to not openly stare at his chest as he wraps a blanket around his waist. You pick up the flowery fabric from the floor and cloak it over your shoulders as you scamper off towards the entryway.

You open the door just as Dante is about to bang on it again. “Well, look who’s up earlier than a morning glory!” you exclaim with a radiant smile while placing a hand on your hip.

Dante nods his head in greeting before rubbing the back of his head. “Sorry for waking you up so early,” he apologizes with a sheepish grin, but you can see a glint of worry within his eyes before it quickly disappears. “But my cranky brother ran away from home and I was wonderin’ if you’ve seen him recently?” he asks while taking out a piece of paper from his coat pocket. He opens it up and shows you a poor rendition of his brother’s likeness drawn in what looks to be crayon.

“I am not some stray dog, Dante!”

You look over your shoulder at the sound of Vergil’s angry voice. He stomps across the living room towards the entryway while Dante lets out a bark of laughter at his brother’s furious remark. “Well, ya could’ve fooled…me…” he stammers, eyes growing wide with shock as Vergil appears behind you. Your head turns back and forth between them as they just stare at each other in silence, comparing Dante’s astonished grin to Vergil’s severe frown.

Your eyes glance up at Vergil as you step away from the door. “I’m gonna check to see if your clothes are dry,” you inform, gesturing towards the laundry with your head. “Just please don’t damage my front porch, okay?” you implore with a charming grin.

Vergil chortles at your humorous plea. “You have my word,” he vows with a small stoic bow before stepping out onto your porch, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

Your ears pick up the distinct sound of summon swords materializing as you rush towards the laundry room. You wince at Dante’s grunts of pain echoing through the hall as you enter the kitchen. But instead of checking on his clothes, you sneak out the back door and run through your garden, not caring about the morning dew chilling your bare feet as you quickly pick the perfect flowers. Then, you hurry back inside to really check on his clothes this time; his shoes and leather pants are fairly dry while his vest remains very damp. You open the dryer and pull out his signature coat, nodding your head in approval at its crisp and clean appearance before laying it out on your ironing board.

I can’t tie flowers around the Yamato this time, but I can still surprise him in other ways! you contend while going back to the kitchen. You bind the little bouquet of flowers with some twine you cut from a spare spool before heading back to the laundry room. All the lovely memories of Vergil pulling flowers from the inside pocket of his coat plays in your mind as you hide the pretty blooms in the very same place. The front door slams shut just as you are gathering his clothes into your arms. You walk out the laundry room and meet Vergil in the hallway, exchanging a few hurried words as you lead him down the hall towards the guest bathroom.

You tidy up the living room while he changes clothes, but your thoughts are buzzing with all that has happened since late last night. The couch is still slightly warm from both of you sleeping there…and kissing there. Your lips tingle at the thought, already aching for another kiss from your darling devil. The familiar warmth of a blush dusts your cheeks as you fold the blankets and stack the pillows. As soon as the couch is all straightened out, you turn to the coffee table and reach for the teacups, but an almost fully dressed Vergil entering the living room halts your hand.

The vest must’ve been too damp for his liking, you observe with subtle gulp while your eyes appreciate the pleasant view of a disheveled devil walking towards you. The lapels of his signature coat sway with every step, revealing just enough of his bare chest for your hungry eyes. And you cannot help but to admire the alluring sway of his white hair around his gorgeous face as he pins you down with his fierce gaze. The knowing smirk curling on his lips makes you shiver with delight as he stands in front of you.

“I guess you’ve got to go now, huh?” you inquire with a doleful pout.

Vergil gives you a confirming nod. “I promised Nero that I would help him memorize his vows before rehearsal later this afternoon,” he informs while taking your hand within his gentle grasp. “Thank you for receiving me with such warm generosity despite my tardiness.” He bows his head and lifts your hand up to give the top of your knuckles a tender kiss. His adoring gaze never strays from your enamored stare as his lips linger up the back of your hand. “And thank you for the lovely flowers in my coat pocket,” he murmurs, pressing one last kiss against your hand with a smug grin.

You let out a small huff as his lips draw back from your hand. “You’re supposed to find them while walking back to the shop!” you exclaim as he reaches into his coat to reveal what you thought was a well-hidden tiny bouquet of snowdrops with a single red dahlia. “They would’ve looked prettier on the Yamato anyway,” you mutter, rolling your eyes while staring down at your feet in defeat.

“I tend to agree.”

Vergil extends his arm to the side and a sudden flash of bright blue energy surrounds his hand. Your eyes widen in surprise as the Yamato materializes out of thin air within his grasp. He hands the flowers over to you before holding the impressive sword out for you to tie the tiny bouquet to its sheath. Your face lights up and an excited giggle escapes your lips as you loosen the twine around the flowers and carefully wrap them around the Yamato. The white snowdrops add a touch of hopefulness while the single red dahlia compliments the sword’s power and strength, perfectly conveying the message you wish to send:

Never doubt my love for I’ve always been forever yours.

“There!” you exclaim as soon as you are done tying the flowers with a secure bow. “They really are quite beautiful, aren’t they?”

You feel your heart bloom as you glance up to behold his besotted gaze. “Yes,” he replies while wrapping an arm around your waist. “But it’s not their beauty that captivates me, my beloved rose,” he declares before capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.

Your mouth instantly gives into his unyielding mouth with a soft whimper, clutching the lapels of his coat while craning your neck to meet every ravenous stroke of his tongue. This kiss is more desperate, as if he’s begging you to accept every scar upon his soul, pleading that you’ll stay beside him despite the dangers of treading through his prickly briars. And you give yourself to him openly, accepting his battered and bruised soul, vowing to love every part of him despite all the thorns that may cut you along the way. Neither of you want the kiss to end, constantly taking turns drawing back only to be drawn in again for just a little bit longer…but both of you have a busy day ahead. So, your fervid kiss eventually slows down until both of you exchange a few sweet pecks on each other’s lips.

You walk with Vergil to the entryway but stop him from opening the door, claiming that he needs to give you a farewell kiss with a cheery grin. He raises an amused brow and bends down to fulfill your request, giving you the perfect opening to rake your fingers through his hair. He hums against your lips as the soft white locks stay up in his usual slicked back style, and you happily announce that he’s now ready to face the chaos of a wedding rehearsal. He chuckles softly at your cute gesture and promises to speak more about your newfound relationship after the wedding before taking his leave.

As soon as the door shuts behind him, you look through the peephole and see Dante waiting at the bottom of your driveway. Vergil walks past him and down the street, which earns an amused shrug from his brother before he chases after him. You continue to watch until both of them disappear from your view before turning around and leaning back against the door. You lift your hand and lightly touch your lips, which still tingle from your darling devil’s kiss as the significance of what just happened sinks in…and then, you let out a joyous squeal while bouncing around like a bumbling bee.

He called me his beloved rose!

This subtle change to his endearment for you may be small, but it’s enough to send your heart soaring high like a skylark. Never have you felt such sweet bliss as this…but there’s no time dawdle with an impending wedding around the corner! So, you fly up the stairs to get ready for the day busy ahead while thinking about Vergil. And as your mind wanders through many rapturous daydreams, you reflect upon a certain truth within your heart: you will gladly bear the prick of your darling devil’s pain for there will always be thorns amidst the roses.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Read on Ao3

My Masterlist if you want more 💖

The lullaby is Hanakazoe (Chise’s Lullaby). The steamy poem is from Carmina Burana (trans. by Helen Waddell). And I’d like to thank @furyeclipse and @twinkstimulator for beta reading my first attempt at angst 🌹😘🌹

Tagging: @drusoona @bettybattaglia @exsultry @thedyingmoon @veenus-ow @meowykittenn @fandomhell97 @vergilsangel @thenightgazer @cherryvane @yesno18 @diabeticsugarush @queenmuzz @mary-v-o-n @tinamalee @a-midsummer-nights-odyssey @ancientwhitefire @agentdedf1sh @divinity-deos @shiranyaaww @skarlet-red-rose @lucinalu219 @superluckystar

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greynblue · 4 years ago

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Final Project: Brand Style Guide

In the beginning stages of my conceptual process, I was adamant on doing a self-identity guide as I wanted to design something that is relevant to who I am, given the opportunity to be creative. Though i was excited to start on the project, I felt extremely lost as I did not know where to begin, when seeking help from my professor, he had mention some key points that would help me start on my guide. Two of it he mentioned were to ask people around me on how do they think of me (i.e. what kind of person I am) and what kinds of colours screamed me.

Noting down all the colours mentioned, I picked out colours that were mentioned a few times and formed a palette from there. Rationales given for some of these colours are that I’m: like a ball of sunshine and cheerful (yellow), mostly calm yet loud at times/gentle with a bit of a goth vibe (purple), calm and just because the colour suits me (blue/turquoise).

At the start, I designed the first logo primarily based on the initials of my full name, and the end result looked like a cursive “h”, to convey that I had a bright personality, I added two dots which forms a smiley face at the bottom left of the logo. For the next draft logo, I wanted there to be emphasis on how I valued self-love, and that I am a person who firmly believes individuals should always be self aware and take care of their own mental and physical health properly. This led me to develop the logo right next to the circled “2”, where the visuals of the cradling of hands can be seen. There, you can see that there is an inverted ‘j’ accompanying the ‘n’ which are the initials for my name. Although this logo was much more unique, my peers had mentioned that it may be difficult to comprehend what I am trying to convey through this logo, as the initials of my names were also hard to see. Lastly, the third logo has a small wave drawn across the letter ‘j’ as I drew it to present a wave, symbolising my personality where I can be calm and loud (i.e. turbulent) at times. Essentially, I chose the first logo as my peers had commented that it was the most minimalistic one that conveyed a ‘’neat’’ look as I was going for such vibes.

Draft of my initial logos and all the colours mentioned by people around me:

With blue as the core choice of colour for my brand guide, I did up my layouts and decided on using circles for shape elements in my guide as the shape expressed notions of totality and wholeness.

Final draft layout coloured blue:

The coloured logo is filled with a gradient from blue to pink, thus producing the colour of purple which was what I wanted to express and all these colours were previously brought up by those around me. To ensure that no one abuses my logo, I used a black background to emphasise the headers of “please abide by my guidelines”, and provided the most common mistakes one might make when using my logo.

My final colour palette for the brand guide consists of two shades of blue (a light and a darker shade), white and black, yellow, and a lighter shade of pink and purple to match the core colour of the guide (i.e. blue).

It took me some time to choose the typography I wanted as I didn’t know if I should go for a cutesy bubbly font to convey the “fun” part of me or to stick with a standard font as I wanted my guide to retain the minimalist look. Wanting to incorporate both, I decided to use Georgia as my main font for headers (as it has traits of being stable and mature) and chose Work Sans for my body paragraphs to retain the clean yet quirky look of the guide.

Final draft for logo variations & guidelines, colour palette as well as typography:

I didn’t have anything explicit in mind when I was designing my name card, other than the fact that I wanted it to be in light blue or white, otherwise the colour contrast of the logo and its background would be too similar. For the last page, I decided to play with the functions on InDesign and Illustrator for a bit, where I used effects like the 3D and changing its perspective.

Final draft name card and brand design package sample:

Creating elements on Illustrator was honestly easier for me as I somehow preferred the functions there over the ones in InDesign (or maybe it’s just me). Hence, I designed my resume on Illustrator and overall, the core colour blue as well as circle elements are encapsulated inside.

Final draft resume:

After the forum critique, there were a few feedback regarding my logo, name card, and resume sections. For my logo, a peer had commented that the dots of the “smiley” face I wished to convey through the icon were too subtle and small, thus suggesting me to enlarge it – another voiced out their worry regarding the logo’s colour, as it may be clashing when placed against similar coloured backgrounds. Despite these, I decided to leave my logo section as it is as the logo would look ugly and stretched if I were to enlarge the dots more. For the concern of visibility, I had already included guidelines that similar coloured backgrounds should not be used for my logo to prevent such concerns from happening. For my name card, the colour blocking of blue and white was seen as abrupt as it cuts across the logo, and the arrangement of my name and details (although it is creative) may be inconsistent and less readable for my audience. Further adding on to this, my tutor had encouraged me to explore the back of my name card to have a similar sectioning to what I have done in my resume. The same circle element could be placed on the top right hand corner with my logo in it, and I could choose to put my logo either at the front or back as having a repeat of it may be an overkill. Moving on to my resume, a suggestion given to me was to apply the other colours in my palette more (e.g the purple, pink, and yellow) as my whole brand seems to be rendered entirely in blue and white. Thus, with these suggestions in mind, my final brand design guide looks like this:

In conclusion, the final project was the most fun assignment I have done as i got to engage in designing my own logo and resume, and deciding on which elements best suited for my personality as well as what I want to convey for those viewing my guide.

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fragilevixenfic · 5 years ago

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A House is Not a Home

Summary:

The mere thought of raising a newborn in a world full of horrors has every part of Scully’s emotional irrationality over firing on a chilly, winter evening. Mulder wants nothing more than to show her that not everything is gray and grim.

“Hope transforms pessimism into optimism. Hope is invincible.” – Daisaku Ikeda

For Teresa, I hope that this is everything that you were imagining.

The situations mentioned in this fic (ripped from the headlines) are real ones and altered ones to assist in the story. No mention of the real-life situation was meant to injure, harm, or otherwise trigger the reader. The shooting was real; the others were either from prior events (altered to fit the story) or didn’t happen during this date range. Also, took a few personal liberties with Jackson. He is unexplored and underdeveloped, at best.

You can’t go back and change the beginning,

But you can start where you are and change the ending.

-C.S. Lewis

Saturday, January 5th 2019

6:00 PM

The Unremarkable House

227700 Wallace Rd, Farrs Corner, VA

The haze of pea soup fog preceded the battle between rain and snow as the small, muted sage house became swallowed by the thicket until visibility reduced to mere feet beyond the reaches of the steps. A glow of twinkling strung and wound up lights along the edge of the outside band and the header marked the well-concealed home like a lighthouse along a quiet shore. It was quiet aside from the tinkering of raindrops in mud puddles, down the gutters, and along the siding of the house, along with the whistling of faint wind through the trees with every gust. The front window, fogged-up with an outer layer of condensation, concealed the remnants of Christmas from a reluctant set of parents, who had been clinging to that moment of reminiscence from matching lights in the tree just feet from a fireplace. There was homey, inviting warmth even with the occasional battle cry from the infant that now lay nestled within the bassinet, her little tuft of gingery curls visible beneath the lilac cap, suckling at the air even in sleep.

Scully’s fingers still twitched along the edge of the rail, gently rocking the cradle as she leaned against the armrest to watch her, the lack of sleep evident under her eyes. “How long are you going to let me relax this time, little one?”

“Think I have enough time to start making us some dinner?” Mulder’s voice was a welcomed distraction, as were his lips to her temple as the back of her head found the soft material of a pillow. “No one wrote this in the parenting manual.”

“Mmmm…please tell me we’re having those stuffed shells covered with cheese tonight because I’m already drooling just thinking about them.” Scully smirked, nodding as she felt the pop of her vertebrae moving back into place, aligning carefully as she looked up at him. “Ran ragged, send a nanny. I don’t remember it being this exhausting with her brother and I don’t remember him unpredictably crying at random moments of the day.”

“So, what you’re saying is the diet isn’t coming back for a while?” Mulder massaged the back of her neck, admiring the beautiful baby in the bassinet as she stretched her little hands and feet as far as they would go before settling back down. “Well, I’d say that most people don’t pause eighteen years to have number two, either, Scully…and she’s been a unique little peach since she was big enough to do somersaults in the womb.”

“I’m enjoying the carbs and I’m getting plenty of vitamins from the side salads that go along with straying from the diet I had been observing,” Scully bit down on her lip and gazed at the sweet, cherubic cheeked babe in the rapt of slumber. “As long as it doesn’t inhibit Lily’s growth and progress, then we’re doing something right.”

Lily. The miracle that made so many others along the way seem so small. The second chance at something right. Scully glanced at the sleeping babe and felt the pang of longing to have spent more time with her firstborn to watch the intricacies of his infancy. So many milestones had been missed in such a short period of time and they only set off the catastrophe that followed—years of wondering if he was loved as much as she had hoped he was. Lily wasn’t simply another baby or a replacement for Jackson; she was the missing puzzle piece in a graying world full of darkened corners and dead ends. Scully knew that their sweet, little Lily had brought so much more than light into this world as her eyes diverted to the side-by-side pair of bronzed baby booties. Mulder saw her wipe an errant tear and leaned in to steal a kiss, tasting that salt that had been left behind before she could clear away memory.

“I’ll make some garlic bread and put on some water for that decaf tea that you’ve become a little obsessed with—the kind with the mint in it,” Mulder wasn’t used to this much emotional turbulence but he was handling it like a champ as he placed a sweet kiss on the apple of her cheek before straightening his spine. “Maybe we should watch a movie tonight?”

“Yeah, that might be nice if she manages to sleep through even thirty minutes of it,” Scully waited until he was halfway into the kitchen before reaching for the remote, flipping channels until a newscast caught her attention.

“…We brought you breaking news overnight of a multiple fatality shooting in Pittsylvania County, Virginia and have obtained more details about the shooter and his victims. We have learned that the identity of the shooter was Jason Owen Davis and it has been confirmed that he fired multiple shots within the home that he shared with his wife and twelve-year-old son. Authorities have informed us that Davis shot his wife and twelve-year-old son before killing himself. Two women were also hospitalized after sustaining injuries from gunshots they had received while driving past the home of Davis…The investigation is ongoing…”

The red, blue, and white flashing lights in the dead of night from the footage in front of a small home atop its foundation with a short drive tugged at Scully’s heartstrings. The sleepy, little town was only a few hours south but a shooting involving murder and suicide wasn't something that happened often. At least, it didn’t use to happen often. Scully swallowed hard as she listened to the newscaster recall the previous night’s events, a lump forming as she thought of a child’s life being extinguished before they could even blow the candles out on their thirteenth birthday cake. Her eyes darted to Lily as the tears nipped at her waterline, biting at every open nerve as the unthinkable played out in a single breath; losing another baby before they even had a chance to take their first steps.

The circumstances were different but the inflicted pain felt so real as she changed the channel and palmed her mouth to cover the sob, hoping to quell an onslaught as the flickering screen wracked at her subconscious.

What do I do if everything I am isn’t enough to keep you safe in this world?

Scully knew that she was playing with fire as she pulled the bassinet closer, just enough to caress the rounded, little cheeks that belonged to their miracle. Lily stirred and let out a brief whimper as she traced the line of her chin and coaxed the waiting tears from her unusually sensitive Mother’s eyes. Scully pulled her hand back and watched the delicate traces of baby feet underneath of loose swaddling as they kicked up and down before settling back against the linen coverlet, the sigh audible as she drifted deeper into sleep. Scully feverishly wiped her tears and leaned back, resting her back against the couch cushions as the ticker at the bottom of the screen on CNN announced another terrorist attack in the city of Paris followed by a rising death toll from a bombing in Pakistan from the week earlier. It was enough to make her stomach churn and the bile rise. The world had become an unfolding nightmare full of waiting, blooming shadows ready to enfold the light.

“Should I make the tea now while the oven does most of the work?” Mulder’s voice, like her beacon through a haze, struck a chord as he came around the corner and found her with shimmering streaks still fresh along first blush. “Scully, what happened?”

“What world are we raising Lily in, Mulder?” Scully muted the television, imploring him as the floodgates opened and the upheaval worked its way to the surface, her voice just barely above normalcy. “Death and destruction around every corner, chaos in countless countries including our own, and the constant threat of some whack job rigging themselves up all in the name of religion to take the lives of those who don’t fit their normative of acceptable. I don't remember looking at life for our son with this much sadness in it."

“I don’t know that the world has necessarily changed, Scully,” Mulder was keenly aware of the fluidity of her hormones and sentimentality as he took the remote from her and set it aside, knowing that she’d only begun to tap the surface of a vortex of upheaval. “We’re not out there like we used to be—with our guns readied to take aim and go running after monsters without a second thought for health or regard of our health.”

Scully's head tilted; the notion of his comment filled with questionable truths as she felt her own aches and pains giving her a not-so-gentle reminder of their existence without even doing a tally of his. Some of the injuries weren't exactly old, either, she knew, but the passing of time had lessened the frequency of a new mark or blemish. Admitting that Mulder was right held a little bit of astonishment and disinclination for Scully as she felt that eyebrow lift upon her like a parental judgment. He was a little pleased with himself as he heard the gentle sigh leave her lips despite the undeniable urge to fix her pain.

Yin and yang; their relationship personified as opposition met harmony, molding together in such a way that one was incomplete without the other.

“Why does it feel like decay, misery, and melancholy are waiting around every corner?” Scully was visibly uncomfortable as she pointed toward the television, nearly going hoarse as she felt her blood pressure spike, aiming her energy toward chaos as Mulder’s shoulders slumped. “I can’t turn on the TV without seeing something awful happening as close as two or three hours away. If it isn’t a stabbing, it’s a shooting…if it isn’t a shooting…it’s a bombing. Lily will never see anything but the constant chipping away of humanity and crumbling of sanity.”

“Lily will be surrounded by two parents that love her and a brother that, with some time, will protect her from anything and everything,” Mulder was studying the expanse of freckles on her face as she met his gaze, coaxing a soft, needed smile that slowly faded as he continued. “I know it seems like the word of the decade is grim but there's a lot more to the world that is worth exploring—from the smallest blade of grass to the tallest trees. Nature, the lifting up of communities in the wake of a disaster, and the little gestures in between like carrying a rainbow flag down a crowded street. I don't think I had a chance to take a look at what was underneath the surface until I felt like there wasn't any hope left."

“You make it sound so easy and idyllic, Mulder,” Scully stared at the floor, at the fibers of the area rug until they were blurring together in a sea of worn, little waves of blues and grays while the strings of her heart played a note she hadn’t felt since writing a letter addressed to her son. “What happens to Lily if we’re no longer here to raise her—to protect her? Who will be here to make sure she is safe?”

“Jesus, Scully,” Mulder swallowed hard at the mere implication of a piece of them being swathed in their love as she leaped through each milestone had him choking back the tears. “I know we’re getting up there in age but I really didn’t want to jump straight to the morbid talk before she even turns one.”

"I don't want to imagine a world where I don't get to see those little fingers and toes become more grown-up or those insanely hazel eyes develop depth when she's angry," Scully didn't want to wake Lily but the trepidation was quickly morphing into something more frenzied as she covered her mouth, muffling the sob. "I don't remember being this reactionary with Jackson and all I want to do is call my mom…but I can’t.”

Mulder wanted to be angry but the sadness he felt for Scully was undeniable as his knees went weak and his eyes fell on the shimmering tears from the corners of her eyes. Lashing out wouldn’t have done much good because the truth of it was that he missed his Mother-in-law nearly as much as Scully did. The hole that Maggie Scully had left in their lives was a shock to the system that neither of them were entirely prepared for and Mulder had spent so much time trying to repair the damage done over losing her. She was a source of great strength and levity for both of them during a time of unbearable darkness to a point that he wondered if she was the only one that knew, deep down, that they weren’t beyond repair. She always held out hope and proved to be that steadfast link that brought them back together as her spark slowly went dark. Sometimes, he wondered if that same glimmer of warmth hovered around Lily’s angelic face to admire what she always knew could come to pass.

He had hoped that she looked down on their girl and saw their love, personified, down to the tendrils of red curls that came from her mother and the flecks of green and chestnut that came from her father.

“I wouldn’t say that our support system has gotten smaller, Scully,” Mulder scooted alongside her, squeezing her fingers as her eyes stayed locked on the circular pattern on the floor. “It has simply changed over the years—and adjusted to the people we’ve become along the way. Your brother may not like me but he’s in our lives more now than he was years ago and because of that galvanized bond, we have your sister-in-law and your nephew. We still have a lot of people in our lives that were always there for us that are now here for her. I have to think it means something that we have that for Lily.”

Scully wanted to feel the words sink in and mean something but there was a struggle buried underneath as she rested her head against the back of the couch, exhaling slowly as she stared at the beam across the ceiling. Her heart thudded against her chest wall as that groundless dread bloomed into a waking nightmare that stayed trapped within her psyche. Scully’s eyes met Mulder’s and her fingers coiled around his as she let the tears fall, searing a trail down her cheeks as she let his warmth melt with hers, palm to palm. Having Mulder in her life all over again meant more than a second chance at love and a life with him…he had become the steadied ground beneath her feet while everything else seemed so shaky.

“I know, deep in my gut, that you’re right but my heart is just swimming with so many uncertain factors that could pop out to surprise us from the wings. I don’t know what I would do if I had to do this alone,” Scully sucked her bottom lip into her mouth and held it between her teeth as she grappled with the upheaval of affectation, wiping her tears with her free hand. “I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about what would happen to you if I weren’t here and you had to raise Lily alone.”

“Scully, there will always be a worry that one of us or both of us could be taken away from Lily before she’s old enough to be on her own,” Mulder pulled her fingers from her face and held both hands between his own, caressing the space below her wrists as he flashed a soft, caring smile. “However, let me be the one that postulates about death for a while. I’m good at it and my hormonal fluctuations aren’t going to be the ones to affect the overall quality of breast milk.”

“I know you’re thinking it, Mulder, because I’m thinking it,” Scully felt the tears drying on her skin, leaving behind a residue of salt that made her face feel tight and uncomfortable as she sighed. “I passed the Edinburgh Postnatal Depression Scale with flying colors and made Doctor Jacobi and Doctor Layton laugh when I asked if they’d read the results correctly. I was never this relentlessly emotional with Jackson and I don’t remember waking up in the middle of the night to cry when he wasn’t right there in my arms.”

"Scully, you didn't do that with him because you were focused on the mess that was the father of your child," Mulder leaned in and kissed the trails of tears, pressing his forehead to hers as he knelt against her shins, palms caressing her forearms. "You didn't have a chance, back then, to stop long enough to see the spiritual toll that Jackson might’ve taken on you because you were so focused on the safety of me and him. This time around I’m not letting you do it alone.”

“I am not good at feeling untenably over-sensitive at any moment of the day,” Scully exhaled slowly and covered his hand with her own, the look of her fingers small on top of his. “I guess it’s all worth it when I see the tiny toes and fingers that belong to the second little miracle that we get to call ours.”

“You just had a baby,” Mulder wanted to scoop her up and take her upstairs but the sleeping child would’ve done her best to shut it down before they could even pull an arm out of a sleeve. “To expect any mother to be perfect at every moment of the day is unreasonable. I can’t even tell you the number of times that I got told to watch Samantha when mine just needed a moment to go lock herself in the bathroom.”

“I just hope that I’m not going to be like this for the entirety of breastfeeding,” Scully made a face and furrowed her brows, exhaling slowly. “It would tempt me to switch to the bottle and I really don’t want to do that. The time I have with her like this is so precious.”

“You know what I see when I look at you, Scully?" Mulder slid backward and stood, stretching his arms toward the ceiling until his back popped that was followed up with a satisfied groan.

“Don’t…you…dare…wake her up,” Scully snapped her fingers at him, signaling to Lily as their typically loud infant stirred in her peripheral while she scooted forward to put another throw pillow behind the small of her back. “What do you see, Mulder?”

“I see the same woman that came into a basement level office so many years ago and managed to spin an already upside-down life even further on its heels," Mulder could smell dinner wafting through the air and it hanging at the cusp of burning as he went to check on everything. "You may have gotten older, have a different shade and length of hair, and think you’re getting haggard when you’re not…but all I see is that same person and I always will.”

“I’m suddenly remembering exactly how you managed to make a seemingly barren woman pregnant…twice,” Scully coaxed a laugh from him as he fiddled around in the kitchen as she went toward the tree, letting her fingers run along an ornament with glitter-covered doves on it. "How's it looking in there, Gordon Ramsay?"

“I think you were really just underestimating the power of the can you spare a prophylactic back in the day,” Mulder peeked his head out from behind the stove and wiggled his eyebrows at her as she turned to smile at him. “Estimating another ten minutes before this can be consumed.”

“You are absolutely ridiculous,” Scully rolled her eyes while adjusting a string of lights, the synthetic material of the tree grazing her palm as the sound of drops of rain against the side window tapped with changing of the wind. “We should dip into the brownies I made the other night after dinner and find a zombie movie to distract ourselves from thinking about the real-life horror outside.”

“Don’t act like you don’t love it,” Mulder was putting the kettle before reaching for the tin of tea, a pause in the air as he peeked his head back out from behind the stove, a look of confusion on his face. “Maybe not a zombie movie but something on the Hitchcock spectrum sounds good. Out of curiosity, though, Scully, do you have something you’d like to tell me or think you’d like to tell me?”

“Mulder, that's…not funny," Scully's jaw dropped as she checked on Lily, tugging the little blanket back around her to keep her cozy and warm before resuming the shocked expression in Mulder's direction. "We do not need a third and we don't need two of them under one. That would put me in my grave prematurely."

“Well, how am I supposed to know? You’re the one that suddenly wants chocolate and pasta loaded with cheese,” Mulder shrugged his shoulders and met her in the archway between the kitchen and the living room to pull her into an embrace. “You ate that through your entire second and third trimester.”

“I love you but you’re crazy,” Scully wrapped her arms around him, caressing his back as she looked up at him, grinning. “Lily and you are more than enough infant for me.”

“I love you, too, but you’ll appreciate the childlike persona when it comes to teaching Lily all about the important things in life,” Mulder kissed the space above her nose, between her brows, and squeezed her tightly while he listened to the bubbling of water inside of the kettle. “I’ll always keep you guessing.”

“I don’t know if fart jokes and distance spitting sunflower hulls across the yard are considered the important things, Mulder,” Scully scrunched her nose and jabbed him in the ribs as he started to back away to check the oven again.

The knock at the door put a stop to the discussion and nearly caused an emergency as Mulder narrowly missed pressing a hand to a hot surface. He had forgotten the oven mitts as his attention swayed in the direction of the front door, toward the soft tapping, but thankfully, Scully’s snapping fingers pulled him right back to reality. She was good at keeping him from taking a clumsy tumble into another potential disaster even if admitting it was not his forte. He had mentioned it, long ago, that she kept him honest and it part of that veracity resided in an ability to pull him from the edge of catastrophe. Neither of them had been expecting to stop by today but the brewing tension was familiar as Scully let her eyes focus on the frosted glass in the door and the tall, broad-shouldered shadow that stood on the other side.

Scully had a longing in her eyes and Mulder had anticipation deep in his soul as he nodded, willing her to unlock the door.

Scully pulled the door open, holding the edge against her cheek as she found him standing on the other side of the screen, hood pulled up, drenched to the skin with a couple of bags in hand. "I know…I should've called to let you know I was nearby.”

Scully shook her head and felt the surge of tears breaking through as she saw the wisp of a smile on his lips for the first time since Lily was four days old, the undeniable yearning to express her love bleeding through. “No, you never have to give us warning…”

“I could hear you, uh, arguing, from down the road so I waited to walk up,” Jackson pulled the screen back and crossed the threshold, the drips hitting the floor like little pieces of his soul as he felt the weight of the world drop off his shoulders. “It sounded important.”

“We weren’t arguing,” Scully took the bags from him and set them aside, the joy colliding with an onslaught of tears as she wiped her cheeks. “It was just a discussion fueled by hormones and everything is fine.”

“Okay, maybe I should’ve said that it felt important," Jackson pushed his hood off and pulled the zipper-free, pressing his lips together and elevating his brows in such a way that he was a spitting image of his father, leaving no question about the actuality of his genetics. “I don’t know if an apology is what I should be doing but I know that communication hasn't really been a thing for me lately. I was returning your texts for a while and just had to get out of my head for a while. I’ve been doing a lot of soul searching and had this feeling that including you will be too overwhelming with Lily.”

Jackson’s wheels were turning; the signals weighing as he was moving his eyes between them, seeking the justification. He was seeking out answers and didn’t stop long enough to fathom that he’d been running from them for far too long. It weighed on him in an inevitable way as the radiating heat of the fire found him and restored a semblance of warmth in weary, well-traveled feet. It felt like home and there hadn’t been a place that inched close to that inclination for a long time. It was a complicated perception, though, as the calm, inviting blanket wasn’t the walls that kept out the elements but their faces, their hands, their voices…pieces of them that had been so far away for far too long.

They weren’t the Van De Kamp’s but they meant something else—something different that he knew, in the severed part of his soul, that he needed.

“You always know how to reach us when you’re ready,” Mulder had pulled their leftovers from the oven and set them out on the counter before coming out of the kitchen to greet him. “Relying on either of us won’t be putting any extra strain on life, either. We’ve been through a lot…you’ve been through a lot. We’ve lost a lot of time, Jackson.”

“The last thing either of us want from you is an apology or to feel as though you need to hand one down to us,” Scully was hanging by a thread, her tears glimmering along the curves of her cheeks as she quietly wiped them, her voice small, distant. “You’ve been through so much and there was no need to hold expectations beyond being able to reach out to you, which we valued, more than you can ever know.”

“I kind of liked the jingling in my pocket, reminding me every day that someone cared about where I was and what I was doing. Hadn’t anyone do that in a long time," Jackson had matured in a year despite that inherent, deeply rooted consternation that was still hovering over forging a relationship with his biological parents as he let Mulder take his wet, zippered hoodie to hang up. “Putting all of my woes on both of you felt really selfish at the time and it wasn’t until I was drinking disgusting coffee in a diner on Florida Avenue yesterday morning that I realized that I was being dumb. I knew I should just come here.”

“Ah, lured into The Florida Avenue Grill, huh?” Mulder didn’t want to push the boundaries but he squeezed his son’s shoulder anyway and pushed the door shut as the draft moved through the room. “The heartburn that place inflicted on me was legendary.”

“Yeah, well, the pancakes were, at least, pretty decent and smothered in peanut butter,” Jackson’s wit was much like Mulder’s but the softer aspect of his nature was more than a little evident as he glanced at Scully as she chewed the inside of her cheek. “Mom, you know you can just hug me instead of looking at me longingly like I’m only a figment of your imagination, right?”

Hearing him call her mom had only happened twice since he’d come back into their lives and it was still sinking into her consciousness, leaving an irreversible mark on her heart. The sensation was almost as intense as the agony she felt the day she placed that final kiss on his temple and sent him to be with a family that could protect him better than she could. His name wasn’t the issue, anymore, but reconciling whether or not he would become the yo-yo in their life was as she felt the sting of tears along the corners of her mouth. They’d lost so much time and never gotten to see him become the man standing before them; looking every bit the collective of their genetics as the pale tones stood out against his long lashes and dark hair. He really was theirs. Overjoyed and yet, doubt was still residing in the darkest parts of her mind as she embraced her grown-up son and tipped over the remainder of her bottled sensitivities.

“I never imagined that there’d be a day when I’d be able to put my arms around you but there was finally a day I thought there could be a chance…” Scully’s last efforts to be composed fell by the wayside as she sniffled and wept while she kept her arms around Jackson, the enormity of him being there coursing through her like an administered drug in her veins. "And I couldn’t let you go through life not knowing that the people you came from loved you…that we didn’t just throw you away.”

“You’re going to make me cry and I’ve done a lot of that when no one was looking,” Jackson had his chin on the top of her head while Mulder was doing his best to keep composed as his eyes glassed over. “I wouldn’t be here if I believed that either of you threw me away.”

Scully was reluctant to pull away but the whistle of the kettle had her moving to check on Lily after giving Jackson the lightest grip to his hand. “Sure, when her brother shows up, she’ll sleep through anything but when the floorboards upstairs creak in the wrong way…it’s the end of the world.”

Mulder took the kettle off of the flame, a smile on his lips as he gathered teacups from the cupboard, his peripheral catching Jackson as he walked beyond the couch to peek at a sleeping Lily. "Speaking of Lily…we should eat before she senses that you're attempting to put food into your mouth and decides that she wants to nurse, Scully. It's been about two hours since she was fed, right?"

“Give or take by five minutes,” Scully watched Jackson standing next to the softly lined cradle, the gentle swing of it in motion as his eyes moved back and forth, willing it to move. “Jackson, there��s more than enough for you and I’ve already been teased that it’s craving food so you know it’s going to be really good.”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” Jackson nodded as Scully put another log on the fire, stoking the flames in the background as he ran a couple of fingers through damp hair. “Might help finally get rid of that epic heartburn?”

“Wait, you still have the heartburn, kid?” Mulder met him in the doorway and put an arm around him, directing him toward the kitchen table where he had already put an extra plate out, ready to serve. "What you need is my special hot cocoa…that’ll get rid of the heartburn and any other aches you might have.”

“Mulder, you are not giving our not over-twenty-one-year-old son the modified Frohike special," Scully gave him a dirty look and aimed the business end of a spoon at him as she retrieved another teacup from the shelves. “Just one of those is more than enough to render him incapable of navigating the house before the sun has set.”

“You are a party pooper, Scully,” Mulder already had the bottle of bourbon in his hand and a grin plastered on his face as he turned toward Scully. “I would never make it the way Frohike made them—that’s a rookie mistake that you only give to an enemy.”

"I know I shouldn't say this and you can't be mad mom, but I'm intrigued," Jackson finally perked up and chuckled, making Scully roll her eyes as she made eye contact with her son. "I mean, I've had drinks before—when I wasn't supposed to.”

Scully met the waiting gaze of Mulder as she shook her head, scoffing at the situation as the white flag waved. “He certainly is your son.”

“The secret to the hot cocoa is just enough bourbon to smell it but not enough to taste it,” Mulder went on the drinking lesson while Scully was in the background getting plates filled with portions of their dinner. “If it’s too strong then there’s no point to the drink at all…you might as well be drinking bourbon on the rocks.”

“Was there ever a point to begin with, though?” Scully had that witty, Cheshire cat expression as she moved the last of the hot plates to the table and sank into her seat with a hot cup of tea steeping in front of her.

"Jackson, ignore the naysaying," Mulder stirred the steaming milk at the stovetop, his back to her as Jackson joined her at the table. "This is going to be so good and she's just going to miss out because…breast milk."

“I don’t think this is what I envisioned when I pictured spending time with my biological parents,” Jackson stifled a chuckle as he watched Mulder pour the milk into a mug, stirring the contents vigorously until it was to his liking. “Not that I’m complaining or anything.”

“Did they encourage you to be curious and fun-loving, Jackson?” Scully didn’t want to bring the energy back down but she couldn’t help but reference his adoptive parents as she filled his water glass, the butterflies creeping into her throat.

Jackson nodded as he put his napkin across his lap, not a trace of sadness on his face as he glanced at the reflection on the bend in the fork, contemplating every word. “They did their best with consideration to the pain in the ass that they called son. I wasn’t the easiest and it only got worse as I got older—they weren’t exactly equipped for a kid like me. I don’t think many people could have handled someone like me.”

“Something tells me that they never looked at you as anything less than what you are,” Mulder carried the mug of cocoa to the table, setting it next to Jackson’s plate while he made a declarative in front of the mother of his children and his son. “And that would be a miracle that they couldn’t have gotten any other way. That’s how I see things.”

Scully mouthed I love you from across their little, evening setup, the steam rising from hot pans and plates as Mulder settled into the third chair and returned an un-uttered I know much to her chagrin. Mulder had been watching too much Star Wars but the meaning was received and struck her heart in just the right way as she took a sip of her tea, hiding her smile behind the cup. It shouldn’t have made her feel like a million dollars but it did as the blush peeked out along her cheeks all while Jackson pretended not to notice his parental units and their flirting. Something was endearing about all of it; even if it made the already quiet dinner that much more awkward as Jackson speared the first bite of pasta, savoring the flavor.

Just as quickly as the first bites began to be consumed, the hush in the unremarkable house was ended with the unpleasant wailing by his infant sister.

“She let me get two bites in,” Scully was a little frustrated but the glimmer in her eyes told an entirely different story as she started to rise from the table. “Better see if I can get her to nurse for a bit.”

“Mom, you just sit there and eat a little,” Jackson was on his feet in only moments, the look on his face determined as he put his napkin next to his plate while giving her a gentle nudge of the shoulder. “Let me see if it’s just gas?”

“Jackson, I can feed her so you can eat while it’s hot,” Scully’s eyes widened as moved toward the living room, a little hint of a knowing smile on his face as he turned around.

“Let me try?” Jackson shrugged while Lily’s cries changed pitch in the background, growing in volume to the point that he winced at the shrill sound she made. “I have a feeling…It’s just gas. If it’s not, you’ll know pretty fast.”

“It couldn’t hurt and it isn’t like they’re far away,” Mulder knew the first thought from Scully was about Jackson being unfamiliar with his sister but he wanted them to bond as he put a hand over hers. “If she keeps at the screaming, she’s hungry.”

“Okay,” Scully’s stomach growled as she gave a nod toward Jackson, watching him move toward the other side of the couch where the bassinet was situated. “…Don’t forget to support her head while you’re holding her, Jackson.”

"I know, I've held babies before," Jackson spoke up over the top of Lily's stuttered cries as he handled her with care, gathering her into his arms as her tear-filled eyes looked up at him while her little pout trembled and her hands swung. “Oh, my God, Lilybean, you stink. Mom, where're the diapers?"

“There’s a diaper bag next to the couch on the floor,” Scully was chuckling at Jackson already giving Lily a nickname as she looked at him holding her against his chest in the doorway. “There should be an opened container of wipes in there as well…and powder, if she needs it.”

Jackson was undeniably unskilled but attentive as he addressed the soiled diaper after getting her out of the coordinating bottoms and unhooked the onesie while his sister continued her series of cries. "Let's address the biohazard going on in here…All you eat is breast milk, Lilybean...guh."

Jackson was mainly exaggerating the reaction to the odor wafting around Lily as he swapped out the dirty diaper for a clean one after making sure she had been properly wiped. Lily hadn’t quite developed the motor functions for true laughter but she was fully captivated by his facial features as he scrunched his nose and puffed out his cheeks while discarding the concealed, poop-filled diaper into a plastic bag. It was then that his tongue extended and the sound of cartoon-like horror popped free from his throat, coaxing the cutest, sweet grin from that beautiful face as she kicked her little feet on the couch cushions. If Jackson hadn’t known what love looked like before, he certainly knew what it looked like as he fastened her clothes and tickled her feet before pulling her back into a cradled grasp.

It swelled their parents’ hearts as they stole a peek from the kitchen.

“Fresh diaper and a sneaky toot after you got powder on your butt, you’re right as rain,” Jackson swayed as he paced the floor with Lily in his arms, taking her past the tree while her eyes studied his face. “Big brother has to be right about a little bit of stuff…and we know a stinker when we see one.”

Scully was nibbling at her slice of garlic bread but her focus was on watching a sight she had imagined a thousand times as Jackson began a one-sided conversation with his two-month-old sister. Scully's anxiety-fueled rant from earlier started to seem moot as Lily's tiny fingers coiled around Jackson’s while he enthralled her with a rambling story about teaching her how to ride a bike one day. Her soft cooing was just enough sound to carry through the room, the tone and inflection intimating a babble, mouth mimicking the same movements that it would if she were speaking. Jackson nodded and let out a laugh, the intent of understanding the baby sounds more than apparent as he kept all of his attention on her.

“Is that so?” Jackson adjusted his grip on her and held her a little closer, resting his palm across her belly to latch on to as she played with his fingers. “I’ll tell you a secret, though, because you’re my baby sister and I know you won’t tell anyone. We’re not just special because of how we came into this world. We are special because we’re always going to have each other, through thick and thin, bad and good times.”

“How did we get so lucky?” Mulder could see Scully crying again as he chewed a bite of his pasta, the tenderness of the moment finally setting in as he squeezed her knee.

“Deep down I always knew he’d be good with her and love every little part of her but this was unexpected, in the best of ways,” Scully wiped the tears and folded her fingers around Mulder’s hand, gripping the curve between his index and his thumb as he smiled in her direction. “It wasn’t luck. It was destined.”

Jackson sank into the easy chair and rested Lily against his shoulder to rub her back as she gripped the edge of his shirt. “Even if I’m far away, I’ll always be able to get here whenever you need me. No matter how big or small the crisis may be…no distance will be too far if you ask your brother to just come home.”

Home.

It rolled off of Jackson’s tongue and struck a chord for Mulder and Scully as the subject of their discussion before his arrival seemed to be on his mind as much as it had been on theirs. Jackson placed a light kiss on his sister's forehead while he hummed an indistinct tune and rocked her while the tips of his fingers caressed the expanse of her back until the cooing turned into a long, continuous murmur. Scully recalled doing that very same thing with Jackson when he was the same size and it had the same effect on him on several occasions. It usually put him to sleep and it was doing the same thing for Lily as her eyelids did battle with gravity while a puddle of drool formed on his shirt where her chin lay.

“One thing I want you to remember as you drift back to sleep is that a house is not a home, Lilybean,” Jackson sounded like his Grandmother as his index drifted over a pink, soft cheek until it trailed into the stream of drool. “Home is where you laugh, cry, talk, and argue with the people that you love and love you back. This is home.”

@monikafilefan @xfilesfanficexchange @frangipanidownunder @peacenik0 @piecesofscully @starbuck1013 @suitablyaggrieved @danceswithcybermen (for you Teresa!!)

#fanfic #exchange #angst #mulder and scully #msr fanfic #jackson van de kamp #baby Lily #happy ending #mild political commentary #humor

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writing-prompts-for-friends · 5 years ago

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Notes on Robert McKee’s “Story” 26: Let Your Creativity Lead You

In the middle of Chapter 11 about Scene Design, McKee has a really beautiful anecdote and advice for us. It was so nice that I wanted to make it it’s own post.

Have you ever had a story get away from you? Like you came up with an idea and you wrote it, but then somehow it took on a life of its own and it’s become an incredibly different beast?

Or have you ever written a story, looked at it, and thought, “This is what I had in mind, but I feel like it’s missing something big and I don’t know what”?

What if I told you both of those things are okay?

Take a look at what McKee has to say:

“Suppose you were developing a story about orphaned brothers, Mark and Michael, who are raised from infancy in a brutal institution. The brothers are inseparable, protecting and supporting each other through the years. Then they escape the orphanage. Now on the streets they struggle to survive while always defending each other. Mark and Michael love each other, and you love them. But you have a problem: no story. This is a portrait entitled: “Two brothers against the world.” The only variation in the repetitious demonstration of their fraternal loyalty is its location. Nothing essential changes.

But, as you stare at your open-ended chain-link of episodes, you have a crazy idea: “What if Mark stabbed Michael in the back? Ripped him off, took his money, his girl...” Now you’re pacing, arguing: “That’s stupid! They love each other. Fought the world together. Makes no sense! Still, it’d be great. Forget it. But it’d be a hell of a scene. Cut it out. It’s not logical!”

Then the light goes on: “I could make it logical. I could go back through everything and layer that in. Two brothers against the world? What about Cain and Abel? Sibling rivalry? I could rewrite from the opening and under every scene slip a bitter taste of envy in Mark, superiority and arrogance in Michael. All quietly there behind the sweet loyalty. If I do it well, when Mark betrays Mike, the audience will glimpse that repressed jealousy in mark and it’ll all make sense.”

Now your characters aren’t repeating but growing. Perhaps you realize you’re finally expressing what you really feel toward your own brother and couldn’t admit. Still, it’s not over. Suddenly, out of the blue, a second thought: “If Mark betrays Mike, that could be the Penultimate Climax. And that Climax could set up a last act Story Climax in which Mike takes his revenge and...” You’ve found your story because you’ve allowed yourself to think the unthinkable. In storytelling, logic is retroactive.

In story, unlike life, you can always go back and fix it. You can set up what may seem absurd and make it rational. Reasoning is secondary and postcreativity. Primary and preconditional to everything else is imagination--the willingness to think any crazy idea, to let images that may or may not make sense find their way to you.

Nine out of ten will be useless. Yet one illogical idea may put butterflies in your belly, a flutter that’s telling you something wonderful is hidden in this mad notion. In an intuitive flash you see the connection and realize you can go back and make it make sense. Logic is child’s play. Imagination takes you to the screen (or paper).

I found a lot of inspiration in this. A few years ago, I wrote an entire original novel. It was what I had imagined in my head, and I had actually managed to finish it! But then I re-read it and it was just...well, a portrait without a story. I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with it, what was missing.

It’s actually one of the biggest reasons I’m reading this book and trying to learn more about storytelling, because I want to go back and make that story work.

I’ve had a few wild ideas recently. And I thought, “Nah, I think they’re too crazy. I don’t know if it would work for these characters” and dismissed it. But in the past few months I’ve been really taken with Noel Fielding and The Mighty Boosh (hence the header gif) and how he just follows his creativity, and this little page here in McKee’s book just bolstered my confidence further.

So don’t be afraid to break your story and add something crazy to it. It could be just the thing it needed.

Source: McKee, Robert. Story: Substance, Structure, Style, and the Principles of Screenwriting. York: Methuen, 1998. Print

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nntheblog · 3 years ago

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Blue Lock Characters : 40+ Characters Ranked ANd SKills Explained

Blue Lock is the soccer manga of 2021. It has revolutionized the concept of sports by adding the notion of survival games. After Captain Tsubasa and Inazuma eleven, here is a mastodon in this field! That's why a question arises which are the best characters in Blue Lock ? Here's Our Top 10 Blue Lock Characters Synopsis Blue Lock "The story begins with Japan's elimination from the 2018 FIFA World Cup, which prompts the Japanese Football Union to start a programme scouting high school players who will begin training in preparation for the 2022 Cup. Isagi Youichi, a forward, receives an invitation to this programme soon after his team loses the chance to go to Nationals because he passed to his less-skilled teammate —who missed— without trying to make the game-changing goal by himself. Their coach will be Ego Jinpachi, who intends to “destroy Japanese loser football” by introducing a radical new training regimen: isolate 300 young strikers in a prison-like institution called “Blue Lock” and put them through rigorous training aimed at creating “the world's greatest egotist striker.” Check Out : Blue Lock Review Vol 1 & 2 : The beginning of a long story Blue Lock Characters Ranked 43. Okuhito Lemon Okuhito Lemon played as a goalie and was a member of Team Z. He was later eliminated in the Second Selection. 42. Keisuke & Junichi Wanima - The Best Duo Among Blue Lock Characters Keisuke & Junichi Wanima also known as the “Wanima Brothers” were the member of Team W. Team W heavily rellies on cordination plays between the 'Wanima Brothers.' Their team weapon is pass-and-go playstyle which is very difficult to stop, evern if the adversary is aware of it. 41. Wataru Kuon (Skills: Headers+ Vertical Jump) Wataru Kuon was the main strategist of Team Z. However, he betrayed his team for his own benefit during the First Selection. Although, later on he realized his mistake and gave up his selfishness in order to make his team win. Kuon has an amazing vertical jumping ability which is 68 cm. This allows him to finish nicely with amazing headers. 40. Gurimu Igarashi Gurimu Igarashi is the player member of Team Z wearing the #13 jersey in the team. He specialized in Malice. 39. Jingo Raichi (Skills: Marking+ Immense Stamina) Jingo Raichi was a member of Team Z in the First Selection matches. He played the forward position in the team. Later, after passing the Second Selection he became the part of 6th clear team. He was on the verse of facing off against the Japan U-20 playing for the Blue Lock Eleven. Raichi's stamina seems limitless and was shown in the match against Team Z. At the beginning, Reo only thought of Raichi's man-marking as a nuisance but as the game went on, his stamina started to show and Reo’s playmaking ability started to weaken. Raichi's stamina enables him to continue playing at optimal capacity, which combined with his Man-Marking ability makes him a constant threat in both defensive and offensive phases of play. 38. Itsuki Wakatsuki Itsuki Wakatski is the Defensive Midfielder in the team Japan U-20. 37. Nijiro Nanase Nijiro Nanase is a substitute player for the team Blue Lock Eleven facing off against Japan U-20. Out of the 300 forwards chosen for the Blue Lock Project, Nanase is ranked #99 and is currently a substitute player for the Blue Lock Eleven against the Japan U-20. 36. Asahi Naruhuya (Skills: Off- Ball Movement) Asahi Naruhuya is the former member/player of Team Z. He was formerly the center-forward player in the team. Like Yoichi Isagi, Asahi uses off-ball movement. However, Asahi seems to be much more experienced and skilled with this ability. He uses this skill to break defensive formation and has keen analytical ability, using the skill in the right place at the right time. He is also good at moving in other player's blind spots and can get past even Isagi with the skill. 35. Aoshi Tokimitsu (Skills: Quickness + Physical Power) Aoshi Tokimitsu is a forward player ranked 3rd in the Second Selection. He was on the verse of facing off against the Japan U-20 playing for the Blue Lock Eleven. Tokimitsu's greatest weapon is his physical strength, which is among the top in Blue Lock. He has been compared to a "muscle bullet" by Yoichi Isagi and even someone as strong as Shoei Baro can barely budge him in a direct contest of physical strength. This level of strength allows Tokimitsu to use his shoulder to charge past an opponent, or to block them off from the ball, making him a good target to hold the ball and set up further plays. Another notable weapon Tokimitsu has is his unlimited stamina. During a high-level match, whereas most players would sooner or later begin to feel the burn of the endgame, Tokimitsu is an exception in that his stamina allows him to continue to operate at almost full capacity. It was during the second selection where Rin took advantage of this weapon to break through the White team's formation, with Tokimitsu only being stopped by desperate and illegal tackles from both Hyoma Chigiri and Barou. Tokimitsu's unlimited stamina makes him a formidable opponent especially in the late stages of a match. 34. Yo Hiori (Skills: Key Passes + Ball Control) Yo Hiori ranked 27 out of the 300 chosen players for the Blue Lock Project. Currently, he is a substitute player for the team Blue Lock Eleven facing off against Japan U-20. He was formerly the member of Team A and the 5th Clear Team. He plays forward, winger and sideback positions in the team. Hiori's strong suit is his ability to remain level-headed and reserved during the game, being able to calmly line up other players for a perfect pass. His combination of vision and ball control led Isagi to refer to him as a "Technician of 'Stillness'", as he serves the role of an anchor for the attack, synchronising the other attackers movements with accurate passes. This makes him a strong playmaker, who can consistently put the ball in a good position for other attackers to score. Hiori's vision enables him to envision the best pass to make in any given situation. Hiori constantly looks around himself during a game to assess the positions of the players around him, as well as the situation of the field, so he can both receive the ball in space and pass the ball into space. It is through this vision that he was able to form an almost telepathic link-up with Rin, trading calm passes and avoiding other players. He also considers the positions of his teammates in and around the goal area, before deciding on right pass. His vision enables him to see plays that his opponent's do not expect, such as his combination with Karasu to get around the U-20. 33. Gagamaru Gin (Skills: Like Body + Acrobatic Display) - Our Favorite Gk Among Blue Lock Characters During the First Selection, Gagamaru Gin was the member of Team Z initially when arrived. He was ranked #88 out of the original 300 forwards chosen to be part of the Blue Lock Project and started as goalie for the Blue Lock Eleven team against the Japan U-20. He currently plays as goalie for Bastard München during the Neo Egoist League. Gagamaru is Goal Poacher. Goal poachers are forwards who wait in the six-yard box or the penalty area for a cross, pass or loose ball and pounce to try to score a goal. The "poaching" refers to the fact that they will often score a goal out of the slightest of opportunities i.e. steal a goal. Goal poachers usually play as centre forwards or second strikers. Gagamaru has excellent body control and reflex, able to adapt to nearly any pass or downright any play. He has a springlike body which he uses for all types of shots and even tackles. His adaptive playstyle has allowed him to score goals for Team Z and last to the 3rd Selection. 32. Zantetsu Tsurugi (Skills: Explosive Acceleration + Left Foot Shooting Power) Zantetsu Tsurugi is a forward player ranked 53 in the Second Selection. He was on the verse of facing off against the Japan U-20 playing for the Blue Lock Eleven. Initially he was the member of Team V during the First Selection. Zantetsu's acceleration is a key weapon in his arsenal. With his quick reactions and incredible acceleration, he can react to any movement his opponent makes and intercept them. Chigiri noted that within 10 meters, even he could not overcome Zantetsu's acceleration, indicating that Zantetsu's speed is most dangerous over short distances. 31. Teru Kitsunezato Teru Kitsunezato is the current forward player of Japan U-20 team. 30. Kento Chou Kento Chou is a member of Japan U-20 playing the forward position in the team . 29. Haru Hayate Haru Hayate is the Denfensive Midfeilder in the Japan U-20 team playing the forward position against the Blue Lock Eleven . He seems to be a calm and collected person when it comes to football. He seems to notice the quirks of other players easily and comments on them. 28. Teppei Neru (Skill: Speed) Teppei Neru is the sideback player in the Japan U-20 team. Neru is considered to be a speed-type defender, who uses his incredible speed to physically outpace attackers and steal from the ball from them. Isagi went to so far as to describe him as "lightning fast", although it is his high reaction speed that enables him to instantly be able to tell the direction the attacker is going, allowing him to use his physical speed to catch up. Using this combination of reaction and physical speed, he was able to lock down Kenyu Yukimiya (known for his 1-on-1 dribbling skills) without much effort. However, he is succeptable to being overcome if he is approached by more than one attacker, as he can react to late to their play. 27. Shuto Sendo Shuto Sendo is a forward player/member in Japan U-20. He felt insulted by those questioning his position as the ace striker of the U-20 team and during the match against Blue Lock he pushes himself and wants to become better, deciding to aim higher and marry a Hollywood actress, instead of a Japanese idol that he previously settled for. 26. Kazuma Niou Kazuma Niou is the member/player in Japan U-20 currently playing as centerback in the team. 25. Jyubei Aryu (Skills: Jumping Power + Long Reach) Jyubei Aryu was ranked 2nd in the Second Selection out of 300 players. Currently, he is centerback in the Blue Lock Eleven team facing off against Japan U-20. Aryu has incredible jumping ability which, compounded with his height, enable to him reach aerial balls from a higher position than most other players in Blue Lock. Aryu has used his jumping ability to intercept long balls and score from long balls, making him an ideal target for a cross or as a centerback who physically overwhelms the opposing player. 24. Ikki Niko (Skills: Spatial Awareness) - The Most Underrated Among Blue Lock Characters During the First Selection, Ikki Niko was the member of Team Y. He was ranked 63 out of the 300 chosen players with currently playing as a centerback in Blue Lock Eleven against Japan U-20. Niko analyzes the entire field, taking account of both his allies and opponent's weapons, positions and actions to be able to determine the next play and respond accordingly. Niko's ability to read the field was rivalling by Isagi's during their match, who is himself one of the most tactically aware players in Blue Lock. Indeed, Isagi himself has on occasion been impressed with the sheer scope of Niko's vision and ability to read the state of play. With his tactical ability, Niko organised Team Y's defensive playstyle, as well as their offensive strategy, acting as the core of the team, breaking up the opponent's attacks and initiating his own team's. Niko has also demonstrated that he can read the way a pass was made and its flight path, to determine the best way to intercept it. 23. Miroku Darai Miroku Darai is the sideback player in the Japan U-20 team. Darai's off the ball movements are used defensively, through anticipation and quick movement he is able to decipher where the opponent is moving, before reaching there first to shut them down. He talks about the "smell" of his opponent's movements, which may indicate an intuitive instinct for the off the ball movements of his mark. His off the ball movements were so good that he could prevent Eita Otoya from moving past him, despite Otoya's speed. His movements also enabled him to extensively man mark Shoei Baro, although he was eventually overcome through sheer physical ability. 22. “Princess” Hyoma Chigiri (Skills: Top Speed) - Our Prefer Speedster Among Blue Lock Characters Hyoma Chigiri also known as “Princess” was a member of Team Z when arrived. Out of 300 chosen player for Blue Lock Eleven, he ranked 44. In the first half match of the Japan National Representative Match, he played as the right sideback for the Blue Lock Eleven against Japan U-20. Chigiri has naturally strong leg muscles and expert footwork, which enables him to run down the field at incredible speeds. Chigiri is generally considered to be the fastest player in Blue Lock and only players with immense speed, like Ryusei Shidou, Eita Otoya, and Zantetsu Tsurugi can compete with him. While his speed is rivaled by a handful of players, as of yet, nobody has been able to beat him in a direct contest of speed. Chigiri has even sped past Oliver Aiku, the #1 defender of the Japan U-20. This speed, combined with his perception and awareness of positioning enables him to choose the appropriate breakthrough point in an opponent's defence and to speed through. 21. “King” Shoei Barou (Skills: Powerful Middle Shot + Charging) - The Most Stupid Among Blue Lock Characters Baro is a very selfish and arrogant type of forward who strives to be the star of the field at all times. When first arriving at Blue Lock, he was a member of Team X during First Selection and tied for top scorer in his designated stratum. After the Blue Lock Eleven played against the Japan U-20, Baro is ranked as one of the top players in Blue Lock. Baro's physique enables him to hold up the ball and physically contest other players. His charging ability allows him to dribble and create chances for himself. His shooting and villainous style enable him to finish off team moves, by devouring his teammates. Baro has one of the best physiques in Blue Lock, as well as having one of the best techniques at his age in Japan, as stated by Anri Teieri. Often Baro is given the freedom to play and devour who he wishes on the field, as shown during the Second Selection, as well as by Ego telling Baro to disregard the team's plan and focus on devouring Isagi against the Japan U-20. He could have not been in this ranking especially since Ryusei Shidou seems to be a better version of him but after have thought for this 10th place and Ikki Nikko seems much more useful but why not? 20. “Ninja” Eita Otoya (Skills: Off the Ball Movement + Swiftness) Eita Otoya is a sideback player in the Blue Block Eleven who initially was a winger in the team. He ranks 4th out the chosen 300 player for the Blue Lock Project. Otoya is incredibly quick on his feet, reacting quickly to opposing players and using his speed to intercept them. He is swift enough to intercept Shidou's Aggressive Dribbles, as well as stop Rin in his tracks. His speed is at such a level that Ego positioned him in the Blue Lock Eleven with the express purpose of using his speed to get in behind the opposing defenders. 19. Kenyu Yukimiya (Skills: Rigid Dribbling + Gyro Shot) - The Most Classy Among Blue Lock Characters Ranked 5th out of the 300 forward chosen players, he currently is the winger in the Blue Lock Eleven facing off Japan U-20. In contrast with Bachira's technical dribbling, Yukimiya's dribbling relies on his own physique, to push past opponents with power and speed. Yukimiya's core style involves bringing a confrontation to the individual level, where he can use his rigid dribbling to get past his opponents in succession. He has shown that he can overcome Rin and then Shidou whilst doing this, proclaiming that in a 1v1 he is the strongest player in Japan (although this was likely a boast). In contrast to his usual 1-on-1 style, when Yukimiya accesses the flow state, he can dribble with more precise movements, cutting into the spaces between both friends and foe. Through focus and analysis, Yukimiya can determine the best route to take in order to penetrate the defense, yet still ad In addition he has Gyro-Shot. This is a higvh shot, with incredible spin, allowing it to drop sharply in mid-air, while moving to the outside. When Yukimiya used this shot, it was very nearly going to score, if not for Aryu and Nagi reading its path. Based on what Reo said, its range is at least 30 meters. 18. “The Assassin” Tabito Karasu (Skills: Analytical Ability + Ball Control + Feint) Also known as “The Assassin”, Tabito Karasu is currently the defensive midfielder in the Blue Lock Eleven. Amongst 300 chosen forwards, he ranked 3rd. He is currently ranked #3 out of the original 300 forwards chosen to be apart of the Blue Lock Project and is currently starting as a defensive midfielder for the Blue Lock Eleven against the Japan U-20. Karasu has the best ball-keeping sense in Blue Lock, due to his spatial and tactical awareness and his unique ability to control space with his hands. By gauging the distance between himself and his opponent, Karasu uses his body (and more specifically his arms) to block them off from the ball, controlling the space and enabling him to either steal the ball from them or dribble past. 17. Rensuke Kunigami (Skills: Finesse Shot + Knucle Shot) He was ranked #50 out of the original 300 forwards chosen to be a part of the Blue Lock Project but was later eliminated from Blue Lock during the final games of Second Selection by Ryusei Shidou but instead of leaving the facility he walked into a mysterious "Wild Card" door that was open to him. After the U-20 match ended, Kunigami finally returned from the "Wild Card" door. Being a high powered left footed shooter, Kunigami is rare type of striker. Kunigami was tied for top scorer on Team Z during the First Selection, and only because another teammate cheated to get their goals to tie with him. When left unmarked he is guaranteed to make an easy goal. illustration By Highend69 After emerging from his time in the Wild Card door, Kunigami's physical abilities had been noted to skyrocket since his last appearance in Second Selection. While the rest of the Germany Stratum Blue Lock players struggled to compare to the Germany U-20 players, Kunigami easily kept up with them during training and ranked amongst the top 3 players in the entire stratum. 16. Nagi Seishiro (Skills: Perfect Ball Control + Trapping) - The Highest Potential Among Blue Lock Characters When he first arrived to Blue Lock he was a member of Team V and was the best player in his designated stratum. After the Blue Lock Eleven played against the Japan U-20, Nagi is ranked as one of the top players in Blue Lock. With Nagi's, perfect ball control, flexible movements, and technical ability he is able to breathe life into even the most difficult or hopeless plays. He alone has made the most outrageous goals in Blue Lock due to this skill and he continues to evolve into a creative playmaker. Even if he showed great ability to finish and control the ball he can not rank higher because unable to change the course of a game by himself. Check Out : Blue Lock Vol 3 & 4 Review 15. Meguru Bachira (Skills: Elastic Dribbling + Key Passes) Bachira is a whimsical forward who plays following his instincts and when first arriving at Blue Lock he was a member of Team Z during First Selection. His main goal was to find soccer rivals to play with, who also have a "monster" inside of them but that later changes to becoming the best striker in the world when he overcomes his childhood trauma. He is currently ranked # Read the full article

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blaizekit · 5 years ago

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an overly long and detailed post on how I outline

EDIT: Since making this post, I've abandoned Notion for various reasons that mostly come down to a desire to keep my working files local, offline, and within my control. I now use Obsidian, but the process is virtually the same, so the explanation below still applies.

I’m currently trying out Notion for outline building, and while I’m still not sure I’ll use it with every project, I really dig the clean result it gives me. But the way I outline is more or less the same regardless of the program I use.

My HFOWW outline-in-progress is based on the guide Save The Cat (Writes a Novel), but it’s not as rigid as it looks here (especially when we’re talking estimated word counts because lol). I did the same thing with my last original draft and liked the clarity it gave me, so I’m using it again. I’m less anxious demonstrating this with a fic, though.

HFOWW is the 3rd story in my Windmill series, but anything I think is very spoilery will be blurred out. Still, there may be minor spoilers.

This is the top-down view of my outline in Notion.

IWBTW epilogue has its own toggle because the epilogues in this series are really more like prologues for the next one. I post them ahead of time to lay down some spicy hints and an expected post date. It has more to do with the new story than the old one.

I still use some of the color-codes I developed for outlining in OneNote because it was harder to find what I wanted in such a sprawling format. It’s less necessary here, but it still pings the important stuff for my brain.

Sample of an old OneNote outline. I could easily make a whole post about outlining in OneNote and wrangling the chaos.

If anybody cares, the color code I use for everything is like this:

Red = header text for new ‘version’; OR a serious problem to solve Orange = Important Header Yellow = This information will be important later on, so don’t forget it Blue = This topic needs more brainstorming Pink = this idea or info is for a scene I haven’t started working on yet Gray = reference information, fine to gloss over unless I need it

Back to my current outline. “Beats” are in orange. A Beat (in StC) is a collection of scenes that work together to accomplish a specific story purpose.

Here, Act 1 has two important story beats: Setup and Debate. I make them separate toggles so I’m always reminded what the scenes in each beat should be doing.

These beats and their definitions come from the StC guide, but I think of them less as ‘rules’ and more like reminders of what the beats’ purposes are. Understanding the why is far more important than trying to paint by numbers.

Each sub-toggle beneath the story beat is a scene. I don’t separate by chapters until everything else is done, because scenes could be moved around or changed entirely by the end. In the editing phase, I do manipulate scenes to match chapter divisions, but it’s not hard to do.

The number of scenes in each ‘beat’ is a very wiggly-wobbly thing. Here, I’m relying on past experience with this series to get a feel for it. This is so variable, you should think of each beat as a ‘bucket’ to hold whatever is needed to accomplish the beat. Don’t be afraid to move things around as your outline evolves.

The Setup beat is meant to lay the foundation for the character’s world before shit really starts going down. This matters for more than establishing the setting and characters involved (though that stuff is important, too). IMO, the most important thing here is to show the stuff they are dealing with before the story kicks into high gear. Even if you’re not writing a sequel like I am here, a character’s life isn’t linear. They’re not sitting around waiting for the real story to begin. They are already making plans and carrying baggage and dealing with the micro-dramas that define their everyday life as it is before the story shifts.

That’s what the whole beat is about. So how do you know which of these things should be included? A lot of it comes down to personal preference and style, but I always think of it as which things will complicate the coming plot the most, or in the most interesting/intriguing ways? Characters don’t leave that stuff behind when a spanner is thrown in the works. If they did, you wouldn’t need a first act. Scenes in this beat pull double or even triple-duty by showing the stuff while dropping plot nuggets and (hopefully) being entertaining in their own right.

The Debate beat is about the tension between the setup stuff and What’s Going Down. It begins with a change or interruption, called the Catalyst. This is even more wiggly-wobbly than the setup beat. It doesn’t have to be very dramatic on the surface, because this is still Act 1. The point is, this is a change or (preferably new) issue the character must contend with, whether they see it as a big deal or not. What they don’t know yet is that this is only the first domino that will crash into their world in the form of act 2. This beat is called the Debate because the character usually doesn’t want to deal with this--they have plenty going on already! They try to circumvent the problem, solve it as quickly as possible, or overlook its significance entirely. Their reaction sets things in motion.

The catalyst I’ve picked for this story happens to be very dramatic, but it remains an act 1 sequence. The protagonist tries solving his problem as quickly as possible, but gets himself into even more trouble by being rash. As a sequel, he’s already made some character progress, but he’s still holding the baggage demonstrated in the Setup. His actions directly lead to the ‘point of no return’ break that marks act 2--so rather than solving his problem, he walks into the nest of thorns that is the plot.

Whenever possible, it’s better to have a character get themselves into trouble through their own actions. Even better is when they do those actions in response to the initial problem that enters their life. It doesn’t mean everything is their fault, or that nothing unexpected ever happens, but there should usually be a reason why this thing happened to them, whether they realize it or not. That’s why an initial problem, a Catalyst, is good to have. Even if it’s small. A small thing can snowball into a big thing.

[caption: the 10% catalyst is the thing that happens at ~10% into the story to introduce a problem or complication. The way the character reacts to this will snowball into the main plot. Even if they react by trying to ignore it. Here, the Catalyst is a single scene.]

[caption: in Notion, I’m giving each scene a toggle underneath the beat they belong to, and a caption describing what the scene is in one or two sentences. Underneath the scene toggle are any number of bullet points and sub-toggles. This area is a free-for-all of scene description, ideas, reminders, and overall talking to myself about the scene. That’s where the chaos that was splayed out from OneNote can be tucked away neatly to view a clean top-level outline.]

I hope this has been helpful when it comes to organizing an outline in Notion, or just outlining in general. This post would get even more massive if I went through every StC beat and what it means to me. Mainly, I wanted to talk about organization. But I hope it gave you some ideas. :>

#blaizespeak #blaizewrites

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breywhite · 5 years ago

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Web Design Trends 2020 – Top 12 You Need to Follow

Can’t believe it, but it is true. The web has turned 31 years old now! And we have seen varieties of websites surfacing on it (coming & going) – from bland HTML ones to flash media websites to AI-centric automated websites (the chatbots one?). We have come a really long way. Transitioning websites according to the latest web design trends has become a lifeblood for every digital business (literally everyone). Because these new web design trends each year are created or approved by your internet users or more specifically, your would-be customers only. And in this fiercely competitive market, you can’t fail to dissatisfy your “future customers”, would you? Just like previous years, this year too, we have some mind-blowing web design trends 2020 prowling around, making a huge impact on the website’s growth in terms of customer engagement, brand value & revenue creation.

12 Amazing Web Design Trends 2020 You Shouldn’t Skip

It may sound weird but – “Website design is like a joke, if you have to explain it harder, it won’t make any sense”. Similar to a joke, your websites need to be effortless at the first look, self-explanatory in the second scroll, and convincing to explore & take a further step (like your joke would, to make them laugh) at the third look.

Without much waiting, let’s get into the 12 amazing web design trends 2020. They are effortless to follow, self-explanatory to look at, and convincing for visitors to enter the sales funnel.

1. Bold & Vibrant Colors Are In… More Than Ever

This year, we are seeing bold, bright, flashy colors taking the forward leap. The full bold colored websites with undertones of contrasting and less vibrant colors around the edges of images & texts will be big this year. The designers today are focusing on creating a web design that creates an equal experience for everyone. A color scheme with little contrast of a different color that people even with special abilities can feel and enjoy.

2. Web Design Trends 2020 Make Chatbots More Obvious & Much Powerful

This year, chatbots will be mainstream and much more efficient at reaching visitors’ quey (all thanks to evolving AI & machine learning). The chatbots will be much more customized than ever. Also, they will appear as if there are real business reps behind the screen. Moreover, they will be in more loud & popping colors. They will reach faster & better at users’ silly to crucial queries with a personable face (maybe of business rep, cartoon character, or some mascot for the brand).

Chatbots are of different types, the ones with choice based questions, the humorous ones, etc. Additionally, you can choose to script the chatbots per your brand’s conviction & image in the market by partnering with any professional company for web design.

3. Motion UI – Graphics Will Not Be Just Still

Motion UI is another soaring trend, from which websites can’t keep hands-off. The graphics with slight to full swing animation can add a volume to your simple & static website. This year, websites will be all about winning the users’ hearts with animated graphics at the micro-interactions of the website.

Mobile UI can be added in a mobile screen picture as a moving mobile screen, or on a clothing eCommerce website, where the model gives a 360 turn in product pictures to give buyers an interactive & appealing look. You can experiment with Motion UI anywhere on the website from top to bottom. However, animation should be approachable and should be neither too fast nor too slow – to make sense to website visitors.

4. Web Design Trends 2020 in Color Palettes

Every year, there is a new color that dominates the web design trends. According to Web Design Company experts, yellow was the main color for 2018 trends, blue for 2019 trends, and this year, it is said to be the cool & breezy color “mint”.

Apart from just mint or any particular colored websites, we are seeing designers taking the websites to a whole new level with gradients – that has hues of a different color. It is best for businesses that can’t point fingers at just one solid color scheme. The gradient fluid will give more depth to the viewers in the first look.

Another color trend will be based on your brand theme, type, and target customers’ behavior or thinking pattern.

Like:

For information & other backgrounds – Colors like soft grey, teal or blue will be a great match to make the content part more readable for users.

For CTAs and buttons – Colors as warm and flashy like red, green, orange will be much triggering to click on those buttons.

If you are unsure of what color scheme to follow, your company for web design can help to find the best color palette to splash over your website type.

5. Fonts in Web Design Trends 2020 Are Bold and Edgy

San-serif and serif font are the two popular fonts. They will see a continued use this year too with outlined or more dark colors to make them stand out. The bold and broad fonts in landing page headings or subsection headings will steal the users’ attention in a thunder.

The fonts in the website’s banner or header will either have solid colors or some still or moving illustrations to make a lively connection with the visitors. The fonts will stand out on the surface of either light grey or other soft colors or extra edge pop-up colors.

Also, note. You have to decide the typeface & font type based on your brand’s notion, the company’s overall goal, and your audience’s behavior pattern.

Ask your web design company to choose a font and typeface that’s easy for readers to read as readability also counts big in the enhanced UX. Avoid adding complex and cursive fonts as it might confuse the readers and compel them to move out from the site instantly.

6. Minimalism Still Looks Full

Minimalism is a classic and never-getting-old design concept. A minimalistic design means fewer web elements, content, as well as more white spaces, and limited typography. Consequently, it gives the user room to think and explore the website much better.

This year too, the trend of minimalistic design is shifting from previous trends and despite being less, it will be more to the visitors.

You have to pull in minimalism with a lot of care. Make sure the design is understandable and has basic things that a user expects over your website. Keep the images, animation, content limited but in a way that readers are still able to connect the dots to satiate their queries & fall into the sales funnel.

7. Videos Are Dominating in Web Design Trends 2020

Videos are the timeless & most classic thing to add to modern web design trends. Try having a combination of text, visuals, and audio-video content. It creates a balance and caters equally to both the “patient” and “on-the-go” readers.

Readers who don’t have much time & are looking for information on the instant, for them, videos portraying the brand message, animation, or small collage of photos can create a long impact on their choice to stay and explore that website.

A general user loves a website that can showcase its content or offer – in other than just a boring wall of text. Companies today are exploring video-based content and are integrating such videos over their interfaces to serve on-the-go aesthetics.

You can add videos about anything, like product description, use, tutorial, step by step guide, social messages, and brand story. Likewise, you can even integrate your Youtube videos to look like a very well-established brand.

8. More Interactive Micro-interactions Are in Focus

Micro-interactions are the small actions or interactions throughout the website that grab the eyeballs of readers. Additionally, they attract visitors to different sections or elements of the website. Think of the red icons displaying the number of friend requests on Facebook. Or, remember a beep sound on refreshing the Twitter page. All these small icons before any text are all sorts of purposefully-done micro-interactions.

This trend is clamoring this year too. Actually, it is the best way to transfer the information or message to the audience with a more appealing UI. You can decide any type of micro-interaction at different sections of your website. Yet, you have to ensure they are creative, not overdone, gives a subtle overall UI look.

9. Increased Attention to UX and UI – Hand in Hand Web Design Trends 2020

The modern web design trends are showing support to UX (website functionality) and UI (website’s creative interface), congruently. This year, websites with smooth functionality along with impeccable UI are in more limelight. The web design company is focusing on creating a website that gives glitch-free and completely smooth user experience, with:

Less cluttering elements – more of white space for breathing

Navigable, easy to read and SEO-optimized content

The fast loading speed of the website

Balance of rich multimedia as visuals, infographics, videos, 3d illustrations & more

And to keep the user experience in great momentum, designers are focussing on creating more edgy and intuitive interfaces to maximize the UX of visitors with:

Transcribing the videos

Adding caption of the image

Making voice-supportive interfaces

Having balanced UX motion & other animations

Easy to skim content framework

Removing cluttering elements or features that are not necessary

Mobile responsive interface (more than 50% of internet traffic comes from mobile devices)

10. Web Design Trends 2020 Include Illustrations Tailored to Tell a Brand Story & Beliefs

Modern websites have a range of multimedia from visuals to illustrations to stock photos to icons. They appear on the website not just to bring more colors or visual appeal to readers. In fact, they are used for a much bigger purpose.

And that bigger purpose is to weave an exceptional brand identity. So, you can achieve it by telling a brand story, beliefs, use cases, or thought- process from the core level.

If you see NPO websites, you will notice how such websites are surfaced on top of positive deeds & optimism, such websites’ pictures deliver an out loud message (about helping the marginalized communities) for visitors.

You can have a splash of real photographs or have vector collections. Additionally, you can try street-art inspired graphics, icons, or illustrations that truly encapsulate your brand’s identity and visions. Ask your web design company to weave you some high-quality images or visuals. The latter should correlate with your brand and have a purpose to convey to the readers.

11. Large Elements Are “In” in Web Design Trends 2020

This year’s theme is all about going for bold, big, and users’ screen size elements to deliver a fuller look. This year, the contact forms for businesses too will have a broad appearance.

The contact forms are for picking a product inquiry, signing up for a service, service analysis, and much more. Users generally ditch the contact forms due to their limited size. This year, we will see websites going for full-length lead forms. They will be visible enough for users to fill in, without ditching them in one-go.

To make the forms appear less tedious or boring, you can add micro-interactions around as. For instance, try showing procedures to fill the form, some additional words to inspire people to fill up, if it is a lengthy form, divide that into different sections & give interactive scrolling buttons at the bottom.

12. Luminous, Fluorescent 3D Artworks Are Calling in For Great Attention

3D images and artwork have been there around the block for quite a long now. But this year, we are seeing the luminous, fluorescent, or neon-colored 3D visuals taking an edge more than ever.

The neon colors visuals or illustrations in the 3D effect on top of the minimal and basic template are grabbing the users’ attention much widely.

3D artworks are more prime this year to give the website more intense interaction with users and neon colors to give that lively & energetic look to the website layout. Together they combine to give an edge or personality to any UI.

P.S. While going for this trend, ask your company for web design to use the collection of neon colors in cohesion & moderation and scatter them around the overall UI. Too many concentrated neons can create a dizzy or noisy look. Surface these artworks on primary & subtle colors like white, grey, or light blue to make that artwork highlighted promptly.

Final Takeaway on 12 Modern Web Design Trends 2020

Each year new design trends come and go. If you fail to follow them, your scope for winning impactful brand identity and sales may be long gone with that obsolete trend too. Netizens love exploring a website that steps out from its comfort axis and has something spontaneous to offer (according to changing trends). They longer like a website that was made long years back and hasn’t changed anything to participate more actively in its audiences’ concerns & beliefs.

We just chalked 12 amazing web design trends 2020 that your website too needs to address – to be counted as a genuine and evolving brand – that your target audience expects you to be.

Are you determined not to put your audience’s interest down? Follow the above and many other stunning web design latest practices. Also, you can also for the help of a professional web designing company.

#web design #Digital Design

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