#3/Repose toi

[ghotticana]

Bonjour 👋 Voici un tirage intemporel L intitulé : y'a t il quelque chose à faire pour ma situation actuelle ? Quand vous tomberez sur ce tirage il sera pour vous et toi..ce n est pas un azard si tu lie se message...Il t est destiné(e). 🥰💜

[arlestial]

hello hello! i'm really fan of your work and i'ld like to know if you could make rin boyfriend headcanons please? thanks in advance! :) bisous de france and don't forget to take care of yourself <3!!

❝He looks up grinning like a devil❞

synopsis : Rin Itoshi thought he wasn’t ready for love, ever. Until he met you. And now; his heart isn’t really his anymore.

pairing : Itoshi Rin x genderneutral!reader •— Blue Lock

tw : none, just some fluff, some suggestive mentions - (just some kisses) but nothing really developed nor important here (kind of enemies to lovers at first, tho)

word count : 1850~ words

author-note : it’s been 8 months guys, and I’m deeply sorry for this - clearly not intentional - hiatus ! I’ve been busy with my studies and my mental health but it’s all better now <3 I’m going to answer to the few requests I have in my ask box as soon as I can. It’s longer than what I excepted 😭.. Thanks for your request, hope you like it anyway. Gros bisous à toi, et passe une super bonne journée ! (N’oublie pas de te reposer surtout)💗 take care of yourself ♡

RIN ITOSHI was an actor. Always playing the rude, cold guy. The emotionless, indifferent man who was in fact a broken little boy inside. He was a huge liar. Constantly putting a facade between him and other people. Maybe it was a shield, not to be hurt again. Maybe it was a weapon, not to be approached again. He was lonely. And he knew it very well, deep inside of his slewed heart. But wasn't solitude better than suffering? So he sticked around his old mentra. He had other things to attend to, to think of.

RIN ITOSHI despised you. No- he hated you, with all his guts. You were so annoying; always talking to his teammates, laughing with them as you brought water bottles so they could drink. Could you just do your job without talking for once ? When Ego announced you were going to replace Anri for a few weeks, because she was severely ill, he swore he was going to jump out of the window. It could’ve been anyone else - but no, Ego chose you, you out of all the qualified, useful, and actually smart people out there who wanted the job. Why ? He wasn’t the type to complain, he couldn’t care less, but just seeing you on the field made him feel a boiling anger deep in his stomach, and you felt it the first time you laid your eyes upon him.

"You got a staring problem, perhaps ?", you asked, raising an eyebrow at his staring. He looked so fucking irritating, his cold and condescending gaze fixed on you. Your tone betrayed your harsh thoughts.

"No. Just wondering why you look so boring and annoying even though I’ve never talked to you.", he answered, with a mocking tone - still, his face remained neutral, judgmental even. You scoffed.

"The feeling’s mutual."

Since that day, you two argued with each other constantly. His teammates never seemed to understand why; and Rin was too busy thinking about what comebacks he could said to your petty insults to actually explain them why you were so.. frustrating. He couldn’t understand it either. But seeing your shocked face, your scoffs and your protests, your upset behavior tainted by a sharp words just brought something new in him, something he couldn’t explain with proper words. Joy maybe ? It was fun to tease you. And it was also easy, too.

RIN ITOSHI, in all honesty, took a liking in this little game. He wouldn’t admit it, though. So, when the day came when you stopped answering his bittersweet notes and decided to ignore him, he felt strange. Weird. Why ? Wasn’t it the whole point ? Bore you until you stop to annoy him ? Why was he missing your plain, insignificant comebacks ? Your rude attitude towards him ? And now he was jealous. Jealous to see that his fellow teammates had all your attention. He wanted your attention all to himself. Because what Rin Itoshi wants, Rin Itoshi gets. And there was no way you were going to ignore him longer. He couldn’t bear it.

RIN ITOSHI decided - by his own chef - that it was enough. You were surprised, to say the least, to see Rin in front of you, completely silent, looking at you dead in the eye. You frowned, taking a step back. (Definitely not scared because he was creepy)

"Okay… I don’t think that staring is your only problem, I guess.. Can you-"

"Can you shut up, for once ? I need you for something.", he cut you before you could even finish, and you rolled your eyes. So ignoring him didn’t solve the whole thing.

"So now, you need help ?", you added, amused, "I thought you were a big boy that didn’t need the help of a "unqualified, dumb, assistant","

"I’ve changed my mind. Do you want to be the one to blame if we lose the next game ?"

You weren’t paid enough for this job. So you just sighed, accepting your defeat and your fate. Without further discussion, he dragged you to the gym. And that’s when the whole, well, quite unusual tradition took place at first.

RIN ITOSHI apologized. For his rude behavior, for his sharp words, while he was training in the gym - as you were watching his progression, of course. Every day, you were at the same hour at this exact spot in the gym, talking to Rin as he was training his already sculpted body. He was still teasing you, but this deep boiling anger in his stomach became, day by day, more.. pleasant. Until the day Isagi walked in, interrupting your little chat, and winked at him, murmuring in his ear to "make a move". That’s when he connected the dots. He had feelings for you.

Confessing his feelings was hard. Especially since Anri came back. You were supposed to leave in a few days, and Rin couldn’t help but feel the sting in his heart. Was he going to see you again ? He couldn’t let you go just like that. Not after what you’ve did to him. So the last day, after you had greeted all his teammates, you walked out the door of the Blue Lock’s building, a sigh leaving your lips. He wasn’t there. How foolish to think that maybe, your feelings were reciprocated. You walked away, until something - no, someone, grabbed your wrist. It was Rin. You turned to face him, surprised. You opened your mouth to say something-

"I like you. A lot. Fuck- No. I love you. Don’t go just yet. Please."

And how could you refuse this confession ? (You can’t anyway.)

RIN ITOSHI and you started dating after that. He was a little stiff at the beginning; the man wasn’t used to be loved nor taken care of. So you taught him. Light touches here and there; Rin was a quiet, shy, yet attentive lover. He wasn’t too fond of PDA : first, he didn’t want to include you in paparazzi issues, and second, he wasn’t completely comfortable in public in general. He would put his hand on the small of your back in a crowded street to show you the way, lock your pinkies together all the time, probably press a kiss on your hairline; but that’s all he would do in public.

"This way, love. Careful, we don’t want you to get lost, do we ?"

RIN ITOSHI, in private, is a touch-starved, self-deprived boy who needs your whole attention and affection. Please, cuddle him. Let him be the little spoon, and he would absolutely melt. He’s putty in your hands as soon as you reach for him. Lay down on the couch, with him resting on your chest, your heartbeat lulling him to sleep as you fingers play gently with his hair, softly scratching his scalp just like he likes it. If you stop, he will wake-up in no time; glaring at you with a slight pout on his lips.

"I didn’t know I asked you to stop."

"My hand hurts, Rin."

"Bold of you to assume that I care."

"Please ? Just for 5 minutes.", he added in a whisper after some seconds, practically begging for your touch. His sudden change of attitude caused you to chuckle.

RIN ITOSHI absolutely dies for your kisses. He lives for them, okay ? Your plush lips pressed against his, with you sitting on his lap as his hands traveled to the back of your thighs, holding you in place. One arm around his neck, the other hand supporting yourself by grabbing his shoulder, he swears he could spent hours just making out with you. His tongue buried down your throat, bodies grinding and pressed against each other’s as you both let your eager lips devour your love.

RIN ITOSHI who kisses your insecurities away (literally). He knows exactly what it feels like to have insecurities and to be misunderstood about them, so don’t worry (he’s definitely an overthinker too.) You’re not going to be insecure on his watch. He would reassure you all the time, taking his precious time whispering sweet nothings in your ear, hyping you up. He wants you to be the most comfortable possible around him. Communication is the main key in your relationship. He took some time to finally let down his walls, so he intends you to do the same : without any pressure, of course. You can trust him, he can trust you. You both rely on each other’s back, and you can always count on him for anything. He’s not a man of many words, but for you, he would make an effort.

"Shh, darling. Come on, look at me, please,", he gently tilted your chin up for you to look at him, "dry those tears, my love. I’ve never met someone as strong, as beautiful and as courageous as you. If only you could see yourself with my eyes.. Don’t listen to them. They’re just jealous of you. Honestly, they should be jealous of me. After all, what did I do to deserve an angel like you ?"

RIN ITOSHI was an actor. Always playing the rude, cold guy. The emotionless, indifferent man who was in fact a broken little boy inside. He was a huge liar. And perhaps you could heal the broken inner-child that still suffer in silence today. But with certainty, with you, behind closed doors, maybe- maybe, for you, he could grow into a whole different person.

"I think that.. I think that I like the person I am when I’m with you. Does it make sense ? Yeah. You bring a side of me that I don’t want to let go. I think it’s a soulmate thing, don’t you think so ?"

[spacesquidlings]

Thorns

Description: Connecting with family can be wondrous, but it can also cause heartache and strife. And when she's caught in a fight, he saves her

Pairing: Astarion x Female Tav (Aspen)

Warnings: Threats of physical violence

A/N: Although being with family over the holidays is supposed to be full of love and warmth, it very rarely is. I've been lucky the past number of years that my holidays have usually been fun and joyous, and I've looked forward to the parties and gatherings. As I've gotten older though, things have become more and more difficult, and this year especially has been much harder in a lot of ways (I won't bore you all with the details but it's been difficult to say the least). I've simplified this fic a bit so as not to bore anyone with the complexities of a very large extended family unit, and paired it down to feature mentions of a more condensed family. Please forgive me this indulgence, but writing this brought me some comfort and closure after a difficult situation on Christmas eve. I hope it can give someone else even a little bit of comfort and safety and the knowledge that you are loved, and that you are good as you are. Happy holidays you guys I am sending my love <3

****************************************************

Fights happened, that’s just the way families were. At least that’s what she’d been told.

She’d been told a lot of things. That she could be terribly angry, that she was always angry, that she often screamed, that she was always horribly loud, that she could be thorny and sharp. And although she never tried to be a creature of wrath and noise, it seemed that such a beast was forever lurking beneath her skin, waiting to unsheath its claws.

So too had she been told that she could be too much. That she needed to dampen her voice as one extinguished a flame, leaving only smoke to show it had been there at all.

And some of it was true, she was certain. In the back of her mind she knew she could be loud, that she could be a bit much. She would lose herself in her excitement, her passions. The flurry of emotions, as raging as a hurricane, would overtake her. Whether it be in joy or excitement or heartache or anger, she would lose herself, and sometimes it took a steadying hand to bring her back.

She did not have a steadying hand that night.

It had been years since she had seen her family, absconding from their home with the intent to make a life for herself in Baldur’s Gate before being stolen by the mind flayers. She had written letters to them since, but she had settled nicely into her life with Astarion, finding joy and contentment like nothing she had felt before. So it had been ages since she had seen them, so focused was she on the moments of excitement and the moments of repose with her lover.

But with the holidays coming up, she’d wanted to see them. She had wanted to see her family again. She was on good terms with nearly all of them, although there was a strange distance that had grown between herself and her father. Yet that surely would not matter, not when she wanted to see everyone, when she wanted to reconnect and laugh and be in their company once more.

Astarion had obliged, musing about how he’d like to meet the people she had grown up with, and perhaps take a peek at old paintings of her as a child, and look for old beloved toys and books to tease her about later.

So they had sent a letter to her mother, and they had packed their belongings, and they had headed out to the village she had grown up in.

It was not a backwater by any means, but when they first arrived she gazed upon the central market, the rows of quaint houses that skirted the village borders, and felt strange. It was all as familiar to her as a recurring dream, and unknown as an uncharted land unmarked on any map.

It had been her home, but it was not her home any longer. She was a piece of a puzzle that no longer fit, this small world shifting around her absence, filling in the gaps as surely as she had filled in the gaps that had been left in her.

She’d spent the day with Astarion, clutching his hand tightly, the ring that allowed him to walk in the daylight glittering like a star plucked from the night sky on his finger. They’d gone through all of her favourite shops, had paused in restaurants to enjoy some of the foods she hadn’t had in ages, before finally arriving at her parents’ home.

Her heart had fluttered like an injured bird, and she considered turning tail and running. But with Astarion’s hand in hers she felt brave, felt safe as she knocked on the door, as she was greeted by the delighted shouts of her mother, of her siblings, of her grandparents.

The reunion was not without its awkwardness, exacerbated by Astarion delighting in stories of when she’d been in a child, and finding old paintings that had gathered dust of her childhood self. He’d even managed to find his way to her old room, the one she had occupied barely a week before she had first met him.

Laughing, he had wiggled beloved stuffed dolls above her head, teasing her as he pretended to play, eliciting annoyed shouts at first, and then laughter as she’d tickled his sides until he’d conceded.

She’d been able to fall into a comfortable routine with her family, and with her lover at her side. The years of adventuring had not diminished her love for them, nor had it made theirs falter. She no longer fit within the village, but she was still welcomed, still accepted.

Their plan had been to stay for a few weeks, touring the village and some of the larger cities nearby, and catching up with family and old friends. Most days Aspen and Astarion would spend their mornings together, Astarion lying on her chest like a weighted blanket, murmuring that he was too comfortable to move even as the sun made its way across the sky. Then they would dress, invite one of her siblings or her mother along with them, and they would head out into the world.

In the evenings they would return, and he would roll up his sleeves and offer to help with the cooking and cleaning her mother often did. It added to the strange delightfulness of everything, Astarion offering to do something he had often whined about at length when their relationship was still new as spring blooms.

It felt almost blissful, a strange sort of dream she found herself walking in. A scrap of domesticity, a glimpse into what life with him would be like if they ever settled down. If they ever decided to put down roots.

But as much as those days warmed Aspen’s heart, they could not last. It was all too good to be true, the softest, most magical part of the dream right before she awoke. The calm before the rage of a storm.

She loved her family, so entirely she did not always have the words to explain it. But as much as she loved them, they frustrated her beyond belief, beyond words or understanding. The little words that cut like a knife into her heart, picking at her life, at her interests and hobbies, at her choices.

The only difference now was that she no longer wandered her family’s home and the village roads with open wounds, dripping blood into the snow-covered cobblestones. When they wounded her with sharpened words, Astarion was there to stitch her back together, to hold her until the tightness in her chest began to loosen, knots coming undone.

There was never any true malice behind their words and actions, but that did not mean that it hurt her any less.

She loved them, but they frustrated her. The more time she spent with them the more things weighed her down, the more things chipped away at her confidence, at the slivers of courage she had found travelling Faerûn, at her own heart. She could feel parts of herself fading away, withering like flowers in a storm, like dying leaves falling from ashen branches.

Aspen was reminded of how difficult family could be, and none were more difficult than the man who called himself her father.

Just as surely as she’d been told she could be too much, she’d been told she needed to be careful around this man. To dance delicately around things that triggered his rage, to tiptoe through a field of eggshells to ensure nothing cracked.

But Aspen was not a rogue, not like her beloved, able to slink silently through shadows, able to dance through fields of fire, able to whisper honeyed words that calmed most people before aggravation could explode.

How could she, when there was a monster beneath her skin? And though she’d thought it finally tamed, it returned in a fury easily, far too easily for her liking.

It was a night when Astarion was not with her, when they were a hairsbreadth from the holidays and she was helping to cook and bake. Grating cheese and chopping veggies, measuring out chocolate and stirring batter.

Astarion had slipped out earlier in search of something he would not divulge. He would only grin in mischief, tap her nose playfully, and promise he wouldn’t be out too late.

And without him nearby, she’d had nothing but her songs and stories to while away her time with. So she had volunteered to help cook and bake with her mother, taking part in what had been a little tradition between the two of them when she’d still lived with her family.

Things had gone well enough, and they’d successfully prepared many treats for the holidays and the revelry everyone would be taking part in.

It had come as a surprise when her father had entered, forcing his way into their comfortable space. He’d started doing something else entirely, plates and bowls clashing in a discordant clattering that had her ears ringing.

Although her ire had been stoked initially, she’d had no reason to pay it any heed. What he was doing was no crime, and her mother was forever asking her to strengthen the bonds between the two of them, to close the strange chasm separating them that neither was ever able to fully cross.

And it had been fine, at first. Casual conversation shared between the three of them, her younger siblings having retired to bed already, and Astarion still lost to the night and whatever wicked surprise he was searching for.

But then it had been not fine, and too late did Aspen realize the claws of the monster in her blood had come out.

Her voice raised, her heart thundering in her chest, a plea to be listened to, to be seen and understood as the adult she had become. That she was not a fool, that the aches in her heart for things he refused to believe were valid, were just, if only he would listen.

They’d had many shouting matches in the past, leaving open wounds that had pushed them further apart the older she grew. So when his voice rose she’d thought perhaps it would be the same as the others, words thrown like rocks back and forth until it fizzled out.

But she’d said that he’d been talking down to her, that he’d been talking to her like she were clueless, a child.

And that apparently, was too far.

The escalation was abrupt. Sudden movement, the man squaring his shoulders to seem larger as spit had flown from his mouth as his voice had risen further. His words had turned cruel, derogatory. How stupid she was, how childish, how she was no adult and spoke like a fool, and words so much crueler that had made her eyes burn.

He paced, shouting loud enough to rattle the ceiling. And she had raised her voice in kind, shrieking now, shrill and enraged at him, at herself for being hurt, for thinking they could mend the rift between them.

And then the threat, a threat heavy with certainty. That he would hit her for her impertinence if she did not stop.

Hit her as a parent hit a child, beat her as a parent who did not know how to navigate their emotions beat a child that misbehaved.

Red had filled her vision, her heart as good as stopped for she could no longer feel it. Her blood had boiled and she had flung her anger back at him, a furious reaction to such a threat.

Her mother had promised he would never hurt her, but her mother seemed oblivious to the times he had, when she’d been little. No more than a parent punishing a child, keeping a troublemaker in line. But she remembered the sharp pain, she remembered the stark cold of the tub, she remembered the acrid taste of soap and the way she had heaved as she’d been forced forward.

Not many times, but enough to burn themselves in her memory, enough that she shrunk whenever a man’s voice was raised. Enough that she shook despite her best efforts when senseless rage was directed at her.

Such a threat was not something she would abide. Not now, not anymore. She was no defenseless child, she had lived, she would not be threatened in a place she was meant to be safe.

She said as much, thinking she was safe.

But she was not. He moved swiftly, looming over her like a monster, so close his forehead pressed against hers. Spit flew into her face, her ears rang, as he screamed and screamed, deep rage like that of the flames of Avernus, directed at her, so close she could smell nothing but the rankness of his breath.

She screamed in return, demanding he move, to get away. But he did not, still pouring his fury against her.

In the back of her mind fear sprung forth, slick and oily as disease. Her body trembled, not that she noticed, and she knew, deep within herself, that he was nearing his limit. That he would hurt her if she did not keep pushing.

But how could she not? Until he used those damned ears to listen, to acknowledge she was not some thing he could use as he pleased.

She tensed in anticipation, knowing the blow would come sooner rather than later.

But what she did not expect was the new shout that erupted behind her father, a figure blocked from her view from the hulking mass of the man who had pressed his face into hers and would not move.

Astarion dug his fingers into the collar of the man’s shirt, yanking him back.

He stumbled, whirling on Astarion, hand raised.

And Astarion bared his teeth, a knife pointed at the man’s throat.

“Make one move and I slit your throat.”

A snort, over-confident and haughty. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Another flash of Astarion’s fangs, his eyes seeming to brighten to a bloody crimson. “I would hate to waste warm blood, but in this case I could make an exception.”

Wild eyes turned to her, fists clenching as hands fell to his sides. “What kind of monster have you brought into our home?”

“Eyes on me,” Astarion cooed, deadly soft. “Lower those hands and go somewhere to cool off and I won’t spill any blood.”

The man swore, shooting Aspen one more murderous look before stalking away, muscles tensed like he was still looking to fight.

Astarion sheathed his knife, a ferocious predator for only a moment longer before he turned to her. His eyes softened then, his lips murmuring soft words as he moved towards her, catching her shaking body before she could fall over.

“You’re alright, darling,” he murmured, pressing his lips to her brow. “You’re safe. You’re safe.”

Tears burned, but they did not fall. She was shivering like a dying tree in a windstorm, and she clutched at him, words choked by the sob that was lodged in her throat.

“Let’s find somewhere for you to sit down, shall we?” He guided her to the kitchen table, settled her into one of the chairs.

In the aftermath, as the fury leached from her skin, she felt cold. Cold as a winter’s night, cold as the darkest moments of a snow-storm, cold as the frozen lake at the border of the village, drowning in the darkened waters.

It was only then that her mother stepped forward, having seemed to have disappeared during the fight. She’d nearly forgotten she’d been there, helping her to bake before everything had unravelled.

“You know you’re both just so similar,” her mother said, letting out a breathy laugh. There was no humour in the sound, and her expression was pinched.

Astarion turned to peer at her mother over his shoulder, his expression inscrutable. “Excuse me?”

She shrugged, wringing her hands. “They provoke each other so much. And you know you did start it, Aspen. You know that’s a trigger for him.”

Astarion leaned back as though he’d been slapped. He blinked, not seeming to understand what he’d just heard. “What do you mean?”

Her mother didn’t hear the edge to his tone, but Aspen did, just as she saw the twitch of his brow, the slight downturn of his lips.

“She should have just agreed to disagree, that’s all.” Another shrug. “What he did was unacceptable, and he shouldn’t have acted like that. But you know you can be just like that, too.”

At her mother’s words Aspen shuddered, for an entirely new reason this time.

She knew of the creature beneath her skin, knew she had to keep it in check, but never had she felt like such a monster as she did now. Her mother softly berating her for provoking the man supposed to be her father.

She could feel it in her veins, roiling like the rage of a storming sea. The monster in her blood, the one that used her skin.

Had she minded her tongue this would not have happened, had she minded her tongue they would still be joyfully cooking, and Astarion would not have had to reveal his vampirism to her parents.

As her mother came forward to comfort her as well tears began to spill, streaking down her cheeks in rivers of flame.

She hardly noticed through the silver blur the room around her drowned in from her tears, the way Astarion’s expression tightened. She didn’t even notice the way his hands tightened on her shoulders, giving her mother almost no room to kneel beside her.

She wanted to cry to her mother, to be comforted, to be told it was not her fault.

But it was her fault, wasn’t it? A horrible monster ruining the holidays, ruining their family gathering on the eve of their celebrations. Ruining things just as she always did, tearing apart the delicate happiness that had been in the air.

“Absolutely not.”

The sharpness in Astarion’s tone made Aspen look up, searching for his eyes in the haze of tears. She made to wipe her eyes, but he gently pushed her hands away, the pads of his thumbs soft as they gently brushed away her tears.

She sniffed, her throat raw as she spoke. “What are you talking about?”

“I will not stand for such slander,” he said, gentle, but firm. “I will not allow for you to be slandered after such a threat.”

Her mother shot Astarion an incredulous look. “That’s hardly fair, and I don’t appreciate you sticking your nose in our business. He’s her father, he would never hurt her.”

“Wouldn’t he?” Astarion sounded eerily calm, his brow arching in bemusement. “Because that looked quite aggressive. That looked like someone on the verge of hitting someone else.”

Her mother opened her mouth to retort, but Astarion stood suddenly, cutting her off.

“No, this is not acceptable.” He offered Aspen his hand, his expression softening for half a breath until he returned his gaze to her mother. “From what I saw he nearly hurt her. He threatened to hurt her. And while my beloved can handle much, being threatened by her own father is not something she should never tolerate.”

His gaze was sharp as he gave her mother a once over. “Nor should she tolerate such nonsense from her mother.”

“You weren’t here at the beginning of the argument, you didn’t hear-”

“No, you’re right.” He cut her off, no humour in his smirk. “But I know her well, so I can guess well enough what happened. And raising her voice and saying a thoughtless comment does not deserve such a response.” Then, quieter. “Nothing does.”

Wordlessly, Aspen took his hand. He drew her to her feet, wrapping his arm around her waist. “We’re leaving, darling.”

Her legs shook, and she feared her knees would give out on her soon. “Where?”

“We’ll find an inn for the night,” he said, not sparing her mother a second glance. “Then we’ll head back to Baldur’s Gate at first light.”

Her mother got to her feet, regret in her eyes. “But the holidays start tomorrow, and we planned-”

Astarion’s response was a snarl. “You stood by and did nothing. You didn’t want to choose a side, but you did all the same.”

They packed quickly, Aspen in such a daze that Astarion packed her things for her, murmuring softly that she was okay, that she was safe, that he would make sure she was always safe.

It wasn’t until they had headed into the night, until they’d checked into the first inn they found, until Astarion guided her to the rickety bed and she fell back, that she truly began to sob.

“It’s alright,” he murmured, taking her into his arms. He tucked her head against his shoulder, not making a comment as she stained the fine fabric with snot and tears. “You’re safe.”

“I’m sorry!” She cried, squeezing her eyes shut against the pain, hands finding his shirt, balling the fabric up in her fists. “I’m sorry! I ruin everything!”

“Nonsense,” he breathed, smoothing her hair back from her face. “You don’t ruin anything.”

“Yes I do!” Her voice was a shrill shriek, and she nearly doubled over from the force of the sudden sobs that ripped from her throat. “I ruin everything. I ruin every friendship, I ruin my family’s happiness, one day I’ll ruin this.”

She pressed her face against his shoulder, her sobs muffled, if only barely. “I’m a monster. I’m a horrid beast, always so angry and I can’t even stop it. I can’t stop myself!”

“Aspen.” The steadiness of his voice gave her pause. He kept his voice soft, but there was a firmness to it, like iron, that quieted her cries.

“Aspen, darling, look at me.”

She sniffed, shaking her head. “I look horrible.”

A soft chuckle, his fingers running through her hair. “I don’t think that’s even possible, my love. Even drenched in gore you are beautiful. A few tears and snot will hardly stifle your beauty.”

She pulled away then, fixing a glower to her face. “Are you sure about that?”

He smiled, cupping her cheeks with such gentleness that a soft gasp escaped her lips. Did she deserve tenderness? Did she deserve even a scrap of his affection when she was a beast? When she would hurt him as surely as she hurt her father, her family?

“You are radiant,” he said, no sign of teasing in his eyes. “Beautiful as always.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. The screaming, the rage, being whisked away so late at night. “Astarion, you just watched me scream my lungs out at my father and then sob so hard I’m pretty sure I bruised my ribs.”

He tapped her cheek, his brow arching. “Don’t forget staining my shirt, too. This was silk, you know.”

“Oh Astarion, I’m so sorry.” The tears began all over again, spilling like she might drown in her misery. “I’ve ruined everything.”

“Darling, darling,” he clicked his tongue softly, brushing her tears away as he stroked her cheeks. “You have not ruined anything, and you are no monster.”

“But I-”

“Hush.” He could have spoken sharply, but his tone was whisper soft. His brows drew together, his lips tilting down. “You are not to blame.”

How did she explain to him? How did she explain the monster in her body, the beast beneath her skin?

“You don’t understand.” Her voice wobbled, thick and rough from tears and screaming and the sobs still caught in her throat.

He was being so soft, so gentle in the face of the catastrophe made flesh that she was. “Then help me to understand, my love.”

Her bottom lip quivered and she drew in deep breaths, her nose clogged with snot. “I ruin everything, I make a mess of everything. I push him too far, trigger him and make him angry. I don’t even try to, I don’t look for a fight but everyone tells me I do. I’m told I’m too loud, I’m too angry, and I don’t even know I am until it’s too late. I’ve ruined my most precious relationships, I ruined the holiday by making my father mad.”

Astarion listened quietly, brushing away her tears as they fell, until they had all spilled, and there was nothing but dried salt on her cheeks.

When she was done pouring out her fears, her terror of what she could be, he nodded, silent still. She wished he would speak, was desperate for him to say something.

Maybe he would push her away, tell her that he had made a mistake, that she was not who he’d thought she was. Maybe he would tell her that she truly was a beast just as she thought.

But what he did surprised her more.

He drew her face close, brought his lips to the corner of hers.

“You are no monster,” he said, soft as a lullaby. “You can be loud, and you can be a bit overzealous.”

At that he smirked, tapping her cheek. “But a monster you are not. If you’re truly scared, then when we return home we can find someone to help, so that what you feel is truly tamed.”

She sniffed, pulling at his shirt. “But I ruin so many things! What happens when I ruin us?”

He rolled his eyes, tucking loose strands of hair behind her ear. “My love, you have not ruined anything. You’ve told me of those friendships, and it sounds like those people were rotten from the start.”

“But what about-”

He brought a finger to her lips, silencing her.

“My love,” he murmured, exasperation in his sigh. “I’ve held my tongue far longer than I’ve cared to tonight. Let me speak.”

She nodded, wilting, and he withdrew his hand.

“You did not ruin the holidays for your family either,” he continued, cupping her face again. “Your father had no business reacting that way, no matter what. As much as I delight in a little violence, there is nothing that anyone could have said that would deserve such a response.”

She sniffled again, wiping at her nose as she felt snot dribble out. She looked disgusting, she was sure, and yet Astarion had insisted she was beautiful. How strange he could be.

“If anything was ruined, it was because of him,” he said, kissing her cheek again. “He should learn to control himself, and he was very lucky that I have so much self control.”

At that Aspen couldn’t help giggling, memories of all the times Astarion could not help himself brimming in her mind. But she held her tongue, not wanting to cut him off, not when he was being sweet as spun sugar.

“And you will not ruin us,” he said at last, firm, unwavering. “I want you, I want every part of you. Even your thorns.”

“Thorns?” She furrowed her brow. “Am I a flower to you?”

He grinned, twirling her hair around his finger. “The most beautiful and rarest of all flowers. But I don’t mind the thorns.” His smile grew, fangs catching the light as they came into view. “I’d let you prick me if it meant getting to stay with you.”

“I would never prick you,” she cried, horrified at the idea of hurting him. “I would never ever hurt you. At least not intentionally.”

His smile softened, and he brought his lips to her chest, above where her heart thrummed, finally beating a steady rhythm once more. “See? You have a sweet heart, you are no monster.”

“But-”

“No buts,” he interrupted. “I have met monsters, my love, and you are not one.”

He sighed, releasing the tendril of hair he’d been toying with. “And I plan to stay at your side for a long, long time. So long as you’ll have me.”

Her heart, a poor fractured thing, ached from his words. She felt like she were splintered glass, and she would shatter at any moment now. The only thing holding her together was Astarion’s hands, keeping her in the moment.

“I want you to stay with me,” she said, her voice soft as breath. “I want you to always stay with me.”

“Then I shall.”

Astarion’s arms slid around her waist, drawing her close. Aspen could think of nothing else to say, so instead she curled against his chest, feeling like she might fall apart at any moment now.

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, murmuring softly into her hair. “You’re safe. I will keep you safe, my love.”

Although her trembling had stopped, it still took her a long while to truly settle. Her mind could not seem to rest, and it took Astarion singing her favourite songs off-key and reading from one of the books she’d packed for their trip for her mind to finally ease.

He was patient with her as she clung to him, murmuring soft praises, whispering that she was good, that he loved her. He sang and read to her, he stroked her hair, rubbed gentle circles into her back.

A stray sob would slip from between her lips every few moments, and she would absently wipe her nose on the back of her sleeve before nestling closer again. Astarion would press another kiss to her brow, her temple, his arms tightening around her, with every sob that escaped.

And slowly, so painfully slowly it might have taken her a century, she finally began to feel… She wasn’t sure entirely, but it was safer, comforted.

Not entirely better, but it was a start.

“I feel tired,” she murmured against his chest, her tears finally dried up, the last of her sobs lost to the night.

The shadows had grown so long, deepening until there was no light keeping them at bay but for the candles they had lit in their room.

“Why don’t we get you into a bath,” he suggested, tipping her head back until their eyes met. “You always like that.”

“I do…” She trailed off, even the miniscule effort needed to summon words to her lips exhausting her. “But it’s so late, and I feel so tired.”

“Leave it to me,” he murmured, smoothing back her hair.

Things were a blur after that, fatigue rushing through her all at once. Astarion carrying her to the bath, gently settling her into the steaming water like she were a delicate, precious thing. His fingers running through her hair, massaging soap and scented oils into her skin. His lips over her skin, scattering kisses in the wake of his hands as he rinsed the suds from her body.

When he was done he stepped free from the water first so he could help her out, holding her hands as she climbed over the high lip of the tub. He wrapped her in a soft towel, half-carrying her back into their room to help her dress and comb her hair.

Astarion’s lithe fingers twisted her hair into twin braids that fell down her back, much longer than she usually kept it. She made a comment to him that she would need to get it cut when they returned, and he pressed his lips to the nape of her neck, promising he would make an appointment for her with their favourite hairdresser.

“And then perhaps we can spend the rest of the day out,” he suggested as he helped her into bed, going so far to fluff the pillows, spoiling her like she were a princess in a fairytale.

“We can pick out some new fabrics, perhaps commission some new clothes,” he continued, brow quirked as he grinned. “You can never have too many new gowns, especially now that we’ve started getting invited to parties. And-” He let the final word hang in the air, quivering like a music note held at the climax of a song.

“And?”

“And I love seeing you in pretty things.”

She held out her arms, wanting him to hold her even now. He’d had his hands on her for hours now, her fingers wrinkled from how long they’d spent in the bath. But it was not enough, and she wanted to be held still.

Astarion obliged, lying beside her and drawing her into his arms. She tucked her head beneath his chin, breathing in the smell of bergamot and rosemary, and the faint smell of her own favourite perfumes and soaps, lavender and rose and the touch of citrus.

“Could we go to the bookstore, too?” She asked, yawning as he trailed his fingers down the back of her neck.

“We can go wherever you would like,” he promised. “But first you must sleep, my love. We’ll make the trek back home tomorrow when you wake.”

He didn’t have to tell her twice, and she quickly fell into a dreamless sleep, safe in his arms.

The morning came far too soon, but Astarion let her sleep late, until the sunlight was a golden glow that seeped through the curtains of their room and breakfast had long since passed.

They didn’t take the time to bid anyone a proper farewell, instead heading for the winding road that would lead them home.

Aspen didn’t anticipate spending her favourite holiday travelling on the road, but she found she did not mind. Even when silence blanketed the both of them, she was comforted in his presence. Astarion could be melodramatic, petulant, and overly confident. But he also showed her gentleness, kindness, an affection that warmed her like the gentle flicker of candle flames.

He took care of her as surely as she took care of him, and as eagerly as she had accepted him for all his virtues and flaws, so he had with her. Perhaps more so, because she’d kept them quiet for as long as she could, and she was certain anyone else would have left her in the cold for such deception.

The winds picked up as they travelled, reaching frozen fingers into her hair, tearing at her cloak and skirts. She tugged her hood over her head, although it did little as the wind snatched her hood back, tearing it from her head.

Astarion snickered, sliding a hand to her cheek. “I have to admit I am glad that your face is not hidden by your hood.”

“Astarion, I’m cold,” she whined, not caring how her voice pitched high, joining the keening of the freezing winds.

A roll of his eyes, followed by a delicate kiss to her cheek. “Here, I have an idea of what can help.”

He draped the side of his cloak over her, his arm slipping around her waist.

“Won’t this make walking hard?” She asked, turning to him. He was close now, his breath ghosting against her cheek.

“I don’t mind,” he said, his voice a warm tenor that caressed her skin like a kiss. “I’ll take any excuse to be closer to you, darling.”

She sighed, but it wasn’t sad, or even bittersweet. It felt the precursor to a laugh, that promised delight would follow in its wake. “You’re so sweet, did you know that?”

“I did,” he said, doing a poor job of trying not to preen. “But it sounds best when it comes from your lips.”

Now she did laugh, and there really was a little happiness in it, soft as the laughter was, freshly fallen snow that filled the world with glitter. “I’ll have to say it more, then.”

“I’ll hold you to that, my love.”

Walking as they did, Astarion’s cloak wrapped around her, slowed them down considerably, but they still made good time, and as the sun sank beneath the horizon, setting the slate-grey of the sky ablaze in fiery red and burning oranges, they arrived back in Baldur’s Gate.

The feeling she felt as they hurried through the streets, fatigue heavy in their bones, was something entirely different from when they’d arrived in her childhood home.

There she had felt like a piece that no longer fit, accepted but not entirely right. She had ignored it, because that had been where she’d grown up. That had been her home, it was where her family lived still.

But stumbling through the streets, thinking of the warmth of her own home, the heat of a bath, the crackle of a fire stoked high, and all the snacks in the cupboards of their kitchen, she felt something click into place.

The bustle of this city, that bakery she loved to visit, the darkened storefront of their favourite tailor, the merry lights and open doors of the bookstore that sold warm drinks in the winter months. All the parts of the city she hadn’t yet seen, so occupied were they both with travelling, adventuring to different lands.

This felt right. Being here felt right. She didn’t feel like a misplaced puzzle piece, a lost toy that did not match with the rest of the set. She didn’t feel like a puzzle piece at all, something that had to match everything that surrounded it.

She felt whole, she felt like she belonged, felt like she was home.

The wind had not let up since earlier that day, heavy storm-clouds chasing in their wake. As they walked up the steps to their home, windows dark and curtains drawn, waiting for them to bring life back into the empty building, she felt something cold touch her cheek.

She looked up, beamed at the flurry of white swirling through the air, caught up in the ice of the wind.

“Astarion, look,” she murmured, pointing skyward. “It’s snowing.”

He paused, barely a foot from their door, to gaze up at the sky, a soft smile beginning to stretch across his face. “So it is.”

He gave her hand a tug, attention already sliding from the snow and back to the promise of warmth and comfort only a foot away. But Aspen found herself frozen in place, staring up at the snowflakes cascading to the ground. Like the sky itself had opened up in welcome of her returning, of her finding somewhere she was safe.

As Astarion tugged her harder she obliged, following him into the house, the door closing with a soft click behind them. It blocked the snow from sight, but still she could see it in her mind’s eye, swirling in an ivory ballet overhead, covering the world in a pallid pearlescence, wiping away the stain that had grown from the day behind them.

She shivered, snapping back to the present as Astarion’s cool fingers glided over her cheeks, his voice teasing as he commented on how flushed she looked.

They helped each other with their cloaks, tossed their packs to the side to be emptied once they were properly warmed. All the while Aspen’s eyes flitted over their home, the familiar shapes of the furniture, the familiar smell of the cleaners and soaps and candles they preferred, the familiar twists and turns of the halls and stairways.

Astarion’s arms slipped around her waist, his chin perching on her shoulder. “What are you thinking of, darling? You’ve hardly said more than a few words.”

She leaned into his embrace, covering her hands with his. “I’m just thinking that something felt strange when we’d gone to visit my family. And that something feels right now that we’re back.”

He peeled away from her, giving her an amused smile. “Of course something feels right, my love. We’re home.”

Home.

She’d known she was coming home as she’d stepped into the city once more, the word seemed to hold a different weight now.

Home, where she had chosen to lay down her heart, where she had chosen to share space with the person most precious to her. Where she was safe.

She smiled, turning around to draw him into an embrace, pressing her face into his shoulder, breathing in the smell of pine and cold winds, and the smell of his perfumes that he so loved.

“You’re right,” she said, her words partially muffled as she nestled closer. “It feels better because I’m home.”

Astarion snorted, but she could imagine the tender smile curling over his lips like a crescent moon shining silver in the sky. He ran a hand over her hair, fingers toying with the soft baby curls at the nape of her neck. “You’re safe here. You’re safe with me, my love. I swear it.”

“I know.” Tears pricked at her eyes as she held him tighter.

“I will never hurt you, I will never raise a hand to you, or even threaten to do so.”

She clung to him, as surely as his perfumes clung to his skin, even a hint of their smell giving her comfort. “I know, Astarion. I’m not afraid of you.”

“I only want you to know,” he murmured, lowering his head until it rested against hers. “I want you to know that you’re safe. I’ll make sure you’re always safe.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, a futile attempt to stop the flow of the tears that slipped from the corners of her eyes. “Astarion, you’re making me cry.”

He clicked his tongue, stroking the back of her neck. “I didn’t mean to make you cry, my dear.”

“Too late.”

A sigh, a kiss to the top of her head. “Then allow me to make it up to you, darling.”

She sank further into his embrace, listening to the slowed beat of his heart. Her love, her shining star.

“I love you,” she whispered. “I love you so much.”

A moment of silence, the slow rhythm, of his heart seeming to stammer for a moment, beat a little faster. “And I love you.”

Aspen would have been content to stay there for the rest of the night, wrapped in his arms. But Astarion clearly had other plans, and after a few moments he pulled away, tapping her cheek playfully when she pouted.

“Don’t look at me like that, darling. I want to clean up and change into something warmer.” He sighed, taking her hands and running his thumbs over the backs of them. “And I want you to change into something warmer too, before you turn entirely to ice.”

“If I turned to ice would you find a way to rescue me?” She gave him a sly smile, a glimmer of mischief in her heart.

“Without a doubt,” he said, eyes bright with devilry. “Although I might have to tell you that I told you so, since if you turned to ice it would be because you ignored my request to warm up.”

“Well then I’ll make sure to heed your advice,” she said. “I wouldn’t want to upset you.”

He patted her hand. “An excellent choice, my love.”

She squeezed his hand, unwilling yet to let go. “Would you help me? I still feel so tired, and I would like to stay close, if you’ll allow me.”

Sorrow flashed in his eyes, the mischief in his smile softening. “Of course, my love. You need only ask.”

“And then we can mull that wine we bought before we left.”

He chuckled, tugging her from the entry, deeper into the heart of their home. “We can. But you’ll have to keep your wits about you, my darling, because I still have that surprise I had prepared for you before that little scuffle.”

She frowned, only now remembering that he’d vanished in search of something he would not tell her about just before the fight had begun. “What is it?”

He shot her a roguish grin. “You’ll just have to wait and see, darling.”

He was teasing her, and while normally she would at least pretend to get upset, in this moment all she could do was smile and laugh. There was no tension in the air, no fear of shattering eggshells beneath her feet.

Astarion accepted her, all of her, and he would not rage against her for saying the wrong thing, for being too loud. He loved her as she was, thorns and all.

They spent the evening together, and she fell asleep tangled in his arms, warm and safe, not feeling quite as hollow as she had the night before.

Aspen had hoped she would bounce back after their return to Baldur’s Gate, but of course things were not perfect, and little more than a week later, a letter arrived addressed to her, scrawled in her mother’s neat hand.

‘You should apologize. I believe you both should apologize, you both-’

She did not get a chance to finish reading before Astarion plucked it from her hand, tossed it into the fire.

A voice in the back of her head told she should probably be annoyed, angry even, that he took the first piece of correspondence she’d received from her family since and fed it to the flames. But there was no rage left inside of her, and even if there was, it would not spark, would not catch on the kindling forever in her heart, waiting to turn to a blaze.

She was thankful to him, for not forcing her to read such a letter. That blamed her as equally as the man who had threatened her. Who teetered on the edge of inflicting violence on her for the sin of disobedience.

“That’s utter rubbish,” he muttered, drawing her into his arms. And for that she was so painfully grateful that she burst into tears all over again, another bout in endless weeks of tears.

“It’s alright, darling.” He had said the words so many times over the past few days, comforting her in the morning when she awoke, trembling from dreams of screaming, from the fractures in her heart, the knowledge that there was no real going back, no crossing the distance between her and that man.

“You are not to blame,” he murmured, stroking her hair. “Your heart is good, darling, and it is not your job to please other people so they do not threaten you. Not even your own family.”

Aspen nodded silently, burying her face against his neck.

They could not hurt her here, they could not even slice her with their callous words. Here in her home, with her lover, she was safe.

“You’re sure?” She asked, sniffling. “You’re sure that I will not ruin us?”

He chuckled, warm and soft, nearly a sigh. “Do roses ruin a garden? Does a hawthorn tree ruin a forest?”

She peeked up from her hiding place, wrinkling her nose. “Pardon?”

“Roses have thorns, do they not?”

She nodded slowly. “They do.”

“But they’re everywhere, are they not? In gardens, in songs and poems, in bouquets given to lovers.” He tipped his head to the side, searching her face as he spoke.

Again she nodded, still unsure of what he was talking about. “I know that. They’re some of the most popular flowers.”

“Even though they have thorns?”

“I… Guess?” He was teasing her now, she was sure of it.

“And did you know,” he continued, toying with her hair. “That hawthorns, with their red fruits used in wines and jellies, and the pretty flowers that bloom on their branches, have thorns too?”

She shook her head, completely lost now. “I didn’t.”

He let go of her hair, settling his hands on her waist. “Well they do. And still they are not seen as something ruinous, but something people adore.”

When she didn’t respond, Astarion sighed, making a show of rolling his eyes. “My darling, you will not ruin us. I love you, I adore you. And I would choose you over all of the thornless, soft-hearted fools in the world.”

“I love you too,” she said, feeling small. “I love you, and I want you to stay with me.”

“And so I shall, darling,” he murmured, lowering his head, nuzzling his nose against hers. “I love you, thorns and all. I’m not going anywhere.”

Tears burned at her eyes, a stray few slipping down her cheeks, and she quickly wiped them away, smiling softly.

“You ought to become a poet,” she said, peeking up at him. “Especially after saying such pretty things.”

He snorted, pulling away to wave his hand languidly through the air. “What can I say? You bring out the romantic in me.”

“Thank you, my love,” she spoke earnestly, wanting him to know she was not joking around, that she meant it with her whole heart. “Thank you, for how kind you are to me.”

Astarion froze, the softest touch of pink blooming in his cheeks. What little blood stayed in his veins was rushing to his face, warming him, if only slightly.

“Yes, well…” He trailed off, stammering. “You make it so terribly easy. I hate the idea of your sweet heart being in pain.”

She smirked, teasing him now. “You know you’re pretty sweet, yourself.”

“Alright.” With a roll of his eyes he turned away. “Were we not planning to go out before we got that letter? We should hurry if we want to stop at the bookstore before heading to the performance.”

“Oh yes,” Aspen beamed, hurrying to his side, standing on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek before going in search of her cloak. “Right as always, my love. We must make haste.”

Laughter chased after her as she found where she’d last discarded her cloak, a deep deep the colour of a sunset, a perfect contrast to the powder pink of her gown and the coral-coloured ribbons that laced up the front of her bodice. She tossed it over her shoulders, clicking the clasps into place before heading to the entry, where Astarion waited for her, grinning brighter when he saw her.

“Beautiful as always,” he cooed, straightening the clasps of her cloak, disentangling the corners of her ribbons so the bows laid flat.

She beamed, pushing the letter from her mind, pushing the whole terrible event from her mind. What lurked in her skin was no monster, not a beast that destroyed everything that was dear. It was only her thorns, a part of her as surely as the blood in her veins.

Astarion had promised to help her soften them, so they did not draw blood when someone got too close. But there would likely always be a few that were a little sharp, despite her best efforts.

But he would love her anyways, acknowledging that they were a part of her, and he loved all of her, even the sharpest parts.

That knowledge settled in her heart, warmth kindling in her chest. Not the violent fire of rage, but the gentle warmth of love, of contentment, the kind of warmth that kept her safe.

He offered her his arm, and she took it, heading out into the snow-flecked world beyond their door. Into the city that she was not a missing puzzle piece in, with someone who loved her as she was, who was her home. And like the sun to a blooming flower, to a tree with flowers and fruits blossoming along its thorny branches, their love kept her warm the entire day.

[satureja13]

Ji Ho's Therapy Game - Part 1

Oh! It seems Ji Ho is really Princess Jihovere! And she lives in a beautiful castle! In the princess' tower at that 🏰

She has a huge bathroom there! Anything a mermaid princess could wish for was there. Fluffy towels, scented essences and cute toys. (And it seems both, Jack and Ji Ho, have a way better ingame experience that poor Vlad ^^')

How cute Ji Ho looks :3

The Princess dressed and went up to the top of the tower to take a look around. Such a beautiful world!

Her next quest is to dine with the Queen! She's already awaiting the princess. (The dresscode in the castle seems to be mintgreen+white ^^')

Such an amazing castle! Ji Ho doesn't know where to look first! Ji Ho and Noxee hadn't much to do with each other in the past and since The Queen doesn't know Ji Ho ingame, it's even more intimidating.

Ji Ho doesn't even know if the Queen is a good or evil character. From what Ji Ho knows about fairytales is, that the Queen/Mother-in-law ist mostly evil and jealous of the younger and prettier princess ö.Ö' Maybe this therapy experience isn't as amazing as it seems? Plus: Lou mentioned that, after Prince Caleb and Princess Jihovere are married, The Queen will have to leave and Caleb will be King... Maybe marrying The Prince wasn't the challenge in this game but staying alive?

Ji Ho decided to adress it right away. This is just a game and he's determined to make good progress so he can finally dig out his buried feelings so he can love Vlad. Ji Ho: "Won't it be hard for you to retreat after Caleb becomes King?"

The Queen: "Oh my precious, don't you worry! This is just a constitutional monarchy here and we do not have any power. It's just for the show. To be honest: It's not that desireable to have the eyes of 'our subjects' on us all the time. They have more power over us than we over them ^^' Many are just lurking until we take a false step and: off the head! I can't wait to return to my own little queendom." The Queen sighed and looked a bit sad.

But soon she smiled again, the show must go on. She's a real pro. The Queen: "Let's finish our meal. There's still a lot to do before the wedding. You're from the Kingdom under the Sea and our habits are so different from yours. A lot to learn for you. We won't let you get roasted for not being an appropriate Queen for our King, right?" Ji Ho let out a nervous laugh: "Right, Your Royal Highness."

Princess Jihovere sat in the garden. It was calmingly quiet and so relaxing to just sit here in the sun, nothing was worrying him here. Ji Ho is determined to make the most of this experience and to cherish these reposeful moments after all the madness they had to go through. And who knows what lies in their future...

The Queen instructed the Princess to stitch a few loops. That's obviously still a valuable trait in the upper echolons of society here.

She was intrigued by the statue of a stunning man in the garden and decided to stich the beautiful face of him.

Princess Jihovere made good progress since Ji Ho enjoys stitching in the real world too.

The princess spent many hours in the garden stitching many loops of the beautiful statue. And she was very happy doing this. There's so much happening in their lives that they barely have time to sit down in peace and silence and create something just for the joy of it - and not to earn money. And the statue was so beautiful to look at. It had a very special (and oddly familiar) presence on Ji Ho. It was as if the statue was looking back at him. As if he wanted to tell him something. A real master of his art must have created it. And he must have had a very handsome model.

Meanwhile in the Throne Room, a very grumpy Throne Prince sat on the Throne. What's up with him? He's going to marry a beautiful princess!

From the Beginning  ~  Underwater Love ~  Latest Current Chapter: 🕹️ 'The One' from the beginning ▶️ here 📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 17-22 ~ 23-28

[thirdeyeblue]

Updated 3/22/24

Added Light From Beyond the Hills (Multi-Chapter, Tentoo x Rose)

Previously: Updated ‘The Purpose of Repose’

My AO3

(pillowfort & deviantart for my fanart, most of which is NSFW)

Note: Currently, all of my fics (except for one) are rated Explicit. I take plot and buildup seriously, but feels-heavy smut is at the heart of everything I write. Also… all of the tropes.

* = Work In Progress

Bloodstream

Main tags: Shag-Or-Die, Romance, Action/Adventure, First Time

Length: 200k

Chapters: 27

For All We’re Worth

Main Tags: Truth Serum, First Time, Sharing A Bed

Length: 30k

Chapters: 4

Mending

Main Tags: Injury, Sonic Screwdriver (used as a sex toy), First Time

Length: 22k

Chapters: 3

The Doctor’s Brilliant Idea

Main Tags: Oral Fixation, Cunnilingus, Asexual Doctor, Eventual Romance, First Time, Crack Treated Seriously

Length: 23k

Chapters: 3

Peppermint Tea

Main Tags: Sick Fic, First Time

Length: 20k

Chapters: 2

With Love & Luck

Main Tags: Intoxication, First Time, Group Sex (but Ten and Rose only shag each other), my follow-up to ‘The Stone Rose’ by Jacqueline Rayner

Length: 35k

Chapters: 4

🌋 Explosivity *

Main Tags: Shag-Or-Die, Fake Marriage, First Time

Length: Currently 40k

Chapters: 4/6

Wrong *

Main Tags: Shag-Or-Die, First Time, Amnesia

Length: Currently 10k

Chapters: 2/5

Extemporary Intimacy

Main tags: Virgin Ten, First Time, Romance, Fluff

Length: 28k

Chapters: 4

Fated to Stay *

Main Tags: Aphrodisiacs, Magical Healing Cock, First Time, Romance, Multiple Orgasms

Length: Currently 15k

Chapters: 3/5

Ordinary Gifts

Main Tags: Sex Pollen, Bittersweet, First Time, Canon Compliant

Length: 15k

Part 1/3 of my Love On The Other Side series

Remedial Needs

Main Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, First Time

Length: 13k

Exposure

Main Tags: Huddling For Warmth, First Time

Length: 11k

Apples, Coffins, and Hearses

Length: 10k

Main tags: First Time, Halloween, Dry-Humping

* = Work In Progress

Washed Up Together

Main Tags: Mutual Pining, Domestic Fluff, First Time

Length: 20k

Chapters: 3

Every Lovely Little Thing

Main Tags: Romance, First Time, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Vaginal Sex

Length: 20k

Chapters: 3

Never Letting Go Again *

Main Tags: Whump, Romance, Angst, First Time, Graphic Depictions of Violence

Length: Currently 4.5k

Chapters: Currently 1

Resolutions In Satin

Main Tags: Lingerie, First Time, Jealousy, UST

Length: 23k

Chapters: 2

Light from Beyond the Hills [New!]*

Main Tags: First Time, Emotional Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Post-Episode: Journey’s End

Length: Currently 1.7k

Chapters: 1/3

A Clever Touch

Main tags: First Time, Premenstrual Cramps, Romance, Hurt/Comfort

Length: 14k

As Soon As We’re Alone

Main Tags: Established relationship, edging, rough sex, jealousy

Length: 11k

Loving The Insatiable

Main Tags: First Time, Sex Pollen, Phone Sex, Rough Sex, Dirty Talk

Length: 16k

Forever, But Better

Main tags: First Time, Sick Fic, Romance, Hurt/Comfort

Length: 15k

Potential For Brilliance

Main Tags: Established Relationship, Wall Sex, Idiots In Love, Dirty Talk

Length: 3k

Part 2/3 of my Love On The Other Side series

Snapped

Main Tags: Halloween, Semi-Public Sex, Established Relationship

Length: 1792

Part 3/3 of my Love On The Other Side series

🧇 Up The Wrong Tree

Main Tags: Fluff, Smut, Crack, Established Relationship

Length: 8k

Vintage Incognito

Main Tags: Pregnancy, Baby Shower

Length: 2k

Rating: T

So Much For Sleep *

Main Tags: Vaginal Fingering, Road Trips

Length: 3k

Chapters: 1/2

Miscellaneous Fics:

Tiny Lights Below *

Tentoo/Rose - Ten/Rose OT3 (heterosexual, absolutely no anal or Tencest) 💖

Main Tags: Slow Burn, Romance, Action/Adventure, First time(s), Whump, OT3, Eventual Happy Ending, Het, Threesomes

Length: 160k

Chapters: 18/19

Dead Dove; Do Not Eat fics below the cut:

Hiding my TenMartha content beneath a cut, as I recognize this is a tender topic…

The Purpose of Repose *

! Ten/Rose — Ten/Martha !

Main Tags: Angst, Friends With Benefits, Complicated Relationships, Dark!Doctor, Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort

Length: 130k

Chapters: 15/20

Can’t Shift the Tide *

(Companion piece to The Purpose of Repose)

❗️Ten/Martha ❗️

Main Tags: Friends with Benefits, Established Sexual Relationship, Smut, Angst

Length: Currently 17k

Chapters: 1/10

[empiredesimparte]

Napoléon V: Good. I have just left Paris. I'll be there in about an hour. Philippe: You're not too bored? Napoléon V: No, no, I'm fine. I've got the TV on. Philippe: Not everyone has arrived here yet.

Napoléon V: I intend to invite a hundred people, in addition to our family. Philippe: Wait, a hundred people?! Napoléon V: Yes, it's out of the question that I do nothing during this stay. Philippe: Louis, the Prime Minister wanted this to be a relaxing stay for you, for all of us... And have you thought about your safety? And public opinion?

Napoléon V : You don't know me very well, Philippe. Philippe: I should have known better. Napoléon V, laughing: Indeed. In reality, it suits me perfectly not to reform Francesim from Paris. I can't stand all these navel-gazing politicians. Philippe : Goodness gracious.

Philippe: We'll discuss it again when you get here, but you should think about it more, Louis. Don't act on a whim. Napoléon V: I know exactly what I'm doing. And I will prove it to you all.

Philippe: Don't forget to rest first of all, you must be in good shape for the coronation. Napoléon V: I'm in great shape Philippe! Philippe, sighs: All right, all right Napoléon V, annoyed: I simply refuse to be a political tool for parliamentary debates and especially for the Prime Minister. I refuse to smile and wave to the crowds like the rest of the royalty on this planet.

Philippe sighs again.

Philippe: You don't mean what you say. Napoléon V: It doesn't matter, forget it. Philippe: Ok. See you later Louis. Napoléon V: Yes, see you later.

⚜ Le Cabinet Noir | Paris, 3 Floréal An 230

Beginning ▬ Previous ▬ Next

⚜ Traduction française

Napoléon V : Bien. Je quitte à peine Paris. J'en ai pour une heure environ. Philippe : Tu ne t'ennuies pas trop ? Napoléon V : Non non, ça va. J'ai mis la télévision. Philippe : Tout le monde n'est pas encore arrivé ici.

Napoléon V : Je compte inviter une centaine de personnes, en plus de notre famille. Philippe : Une centaine de personnes ?! Napoléon V : Oui, il est hors de question que je me tourne les pouces durant ce séjour. Philippe : Louis, le Premier Ministre souhaitait que ce soit un séjour reposant pour toi, pour nous tous ! Et tu as pensé à ta sécurité ? Et l'opinion publique ?

Napoléon V : C'est mal me connaître, Philippe. Philippe : J'aurais du m'en douter. Napoléon V, rigole : En effet. En réalité cela me convient parfaitement de ne pas réformer la Francesim depuis Paris. Je ne supporte par tous ces politiciens nombrilistes. Philippe : Bonté divine

Philippe : On en rediscutera une fois que tu seras là, mais tu devrais y réfléchir davantage Louis. N'agis pas sur un coup de tête. Napoléon V : Je sais parfaitement ce que je fais. Et je vous le prouverai à tous.

Philippe : N'oublie pas de te reposer avant tout, tu dois être en forme pour le couronnement. Napoléon V : Je suis en pleine forme Philippe ! Philippe, soupire : D'accord, d'accord Napoléon V, énervé : Je refuse simplement d'être un outil politique pour les débats parlementaires et le surtout pour le Premier Ministre. Je refuse de sourire et saluer les foules comme le reste des royautés de cette planète.

Philippe soupire encore.

Philippe: Tu ne penses pas ce que tu dis. Napoléon V: Ce n'est pas grave laisse tomber. Philippe: Ok. On se retrouve tout à l'heure Louis. Napoléon V: Oui, à tout à l'heure.

[freddieraimbow74]

En mémoire de Jo Dare, un ami de Freddie 😔💔🕊️

Jo Dare était un chanteur né au Texas qui a enregistré une chanson avec Freddie, « Hold On », ils l'ont enregistrée à l'été 1985 à Munich.

Jo était bien connu dans le Queen Fandom et une jolie dame avec de si beaux souvenirs

Voici un extrait d'une interview avec Jo Dare par Royal Trilogy

JO OSE : UNE VOIX FORTE

1. Vous considérez-vous comme un fan de QUEEN ? Si oui, quelle est votre chanson de QUEEN préférée de tous les temps ? Avez-vous eu la chance de les voir en concert ?

Je suis un grand fan de reine, ma chanson préférée est Bohemian Rhapsody. Non, je ne les ai jamais vus en concert.

2. Dans quelles circonstances avez-vous entendu pour la première fois la chanson "Bohemian Rhapsody" ? Quel effet a eu cette chanson sur vous ?

Je l'ai entendu sur bande quand il est sorti et j'ai perdu la tête... Peut-être que je l'ai entendu à la radio je ne suis pas sûr mais, ça m'a juste époustouflé !

3. Comment avez-vous rencontré Freddie Mercury pour la toute première fois ? Quelles étaient vos impressions sur lui après une rencontre en personne ?

J'étais à Munich au MusicLand Studio pour enregistrer ma musique avec Mack. Freddie est entré et je n'arrivais pas à y croire ! Il était si gentil avec moi et nous sommes devenus vite amis.

4. Cela fait 30 ans que le tournage de la vidéo de « Living On My Own », parlez-nous de votre participation à cette vidéo. Comment était le tournage ? Vous souvenez-vous d'une histoire drôle pendant le tournage de cette vidéo ?

Freddie m'a demandé si je voulais faire partie de la vidéo de "Living on My Own". Bien sûr que j'ai dit oui. C'était 4 ou 5 jours après la vraie fête. C'était pour que tout le monde puisse se remettre des festivités. Nous avons tous passé un bon moment et nous avons agi un peu stupide. Certains des gars perdraient leurs jupes, probablement exprès. Le tournage de la vidéo était comme si j'étais à la fête réelle.

5. Que pensez-vous du remix de "Living On My Own" réalisé en 1993 ? Ça vous a plu ?

Oui, oui ! MIX très créatif ! Jim Beach a réussi. Il était très responsable de créer cette version. C'était le numéro 1 des discothèques euro.

6. Parlez-nous de l'enregistrement de la chanson "Hold On". Comment est-ce arrivé cette opportunité ? Est-ce que Freddie et toi avez enregistré vos voix ensemble ou séparément ? Comment pouvez-vous qualifier cette expérience d'enregistrement d'un morceau avec Freddie ? Avez-vous aimé le résultat final de cette chanson ?

Il était souvent en studio, pendant que j'enregistre. Un jour, il m'a juste attrapé la main et a dit : "Pourquoi ne pas faire quelque chose ensemble, chérie" ? J'ai dit : "Bien sûr" ! C'était une très belle expérience. J'ai adoré le résultat final de "Hold On" !

7. Parlez-nous de votre amitié avec Freddie Mercury. Comment était Freddie avec ses amis ? Étiez-vous en contact avec Freddie ? Quand l'avez-vous vu pour la dernière fois ?

La dernière fois que je l'ai vu, c'était quand je retournais à New York en 1988 et oui, c'était un triste au revoir.

8. Dans quelles circonstances saviez-vous que Freddie est décédé le 24 novembre 1991 ? Comment avez-vous pris ces tristes nouvelles ? Comment avez-vous réagi ?

Eh bien malheureusement je savais que ça allait arriver Je priais pour avoir plus de temps pour lui comme la plupart des gens. J'étais à New York, alors je l'ai entendu à la radio. Je n'étais pas prêt pour ça et ça me brise encore le cœur jusqu'à aujourd'hui !

Source : https://royaltrilogy.blogspot.com/2015/11/jo-dare-strong-voice.html

Les photos de la fête du 39e anniversaire de Freddie à Munich sont créditées à Dennis R Winits et les photos de Jo Dare sont gracieuseté de Jo et Royal Trilogy

Repose au paradis ma belle, tu es réunie avec Freddie 💔

[lxmxnx--0]

Câlins avec Kaeya, Diluc, Tartaglia, Zonghli, Tighnari et Dottore (séparément)

Même si Kaeya aime bien le pda, les câlins en publiques avec Kaeya sont plutôt rare. La plus part du temps c'est juste lui qui enroule ses bras autour de ta taille lorsque tu est assis(e) sur ses genoux, que ce soit à la terrasse d'un café ou dans son bureau.

Lorsque vous êtes en privé, il aime bien quand tu repose ta tête sur son torse et qu'il te tient proche de lui.

Même s'il n'y paraît pas à cause de son air froid et sérieux, Diluc adore les câlins. Mais jamais en publique.

Diluc aime les câlins longs, ses préférés sont lorsque vous êtes tout les deux installés bien confortablement sous les couvertures, durant une froide nuit d'hiver, que tu est assis(e) entre ses jambes, appuyé(e) contre sa poitrine et qu'il peut te câliner à sa guise.

(Petit bonus pour lui si tu as des bourlets ;3)

Comparé au deux précédents, Tartaglia est SUPER câlin. Il ne peut pas s'en passer. Il as toujours ses bras enroulés autour de ta taille, peut importe quand. S'il le pouvait, il t'emmènerai avec lui à ses réunions entre exécuteurs juste pour t'avoir sur ses genoux.

Lorsque vous êtes dehors, il as toujours une main sur toi. Que ce soit ses bras autour de ta taille, sa main sur ta cuisse, ou juste vous tenir la main en marchant.

Il ADORE Quand tu es assis(e) sur ses genoux. Surtout quand il revient d'une dure mission, et qu'il veut juste te sentir près de lui.

Tighnari n'est pas un homme très câlin. Après, il est aussi très occupé, toujours à courrir partout à cause de son travail en tant que garde forestier et aussi de médecin.

Mais lorsqu'il a du temps à te consacrer, il aime bien quand tu le gratte derrière les oreilles ou que tu l'aide à brosser sa queue.

Gros somodo, il préfère le temps de qualité aux câlins, même s'il te glissera sûrement une étreinte ou deux en partant en patrouille.

Dottore n'ai vraiment pas câlin, mais pas comme Tighnari, plus parce qu'il est terrifiant. Donc, tout naturellement, tu n'osais pas initier le contact physique avec les scientifique fou qu'il est.

Cela jusqu'au jour où il t'invita lui même dans son bureau, à t'asseoir sur ses genoux. Il roula son bras libre autour de ta taille et reposa sa tête sur ton épaule.

Depuis, ce sont ses câlins préférés. (Et les seuls qu'il n'ai jamais expérimenté). Et il t'invite souvent à partager ses moments avec lui, ces rudes moments où il est bloqué dans son bureau à cause de toutes sa paperasse. Il aime t'avoir avec lui dans ses moments.

Zonghli est un vrai gentleman, et il tient à sa réputation, donc pas de pda. À vrai dire, personne ne sait que vous êtes en couple.

Même lorsqu'il advient que vous soyez tout les deux en privé, il est souvent très fatigué et s'endort vite. Mais il adore le faire la tête posée contre ta poitrine, à écouter les battements de ton cœur.

______________________________________

Les commandes sont ouvertes.

Mint

[buenasnochestelevidente]

What they've always been to talk but that is why you say what you say what you say but he said when he said it when he said it when he said it when we said it and we said it how he said it how he said it toys said it but the exact times emphasized it buckled down to you I think it used to it I don't listen bles that

And as for peanut jelly or a basket you'll be sending somewhere around behind me the background black tablespoon it will shit it will be today so hot there aren't a blessed to me on as it receives overturns and overall shores mine is the dumb one here yours is 3 says 1 close or a hole so I can't be doing that you can't be like a ghost you can't Second of all I can't be doing that you can't be elected to posts can't be a post on posts you cannot be reposed in posts and you definitely cannot be internet visited here in a blur you also should at least help not be following me or spetting out a doubleshot third penetratory puzzle audio or blasphemy on any content it is me mine she's doing what you're Emily

Then I'll turn up an interview of course and that is to solve and cure yourself to myself terms and anguish and lifestyle set up for you that dropped me up by the way and finally I'll get a chance now please No kisses reasons why not you are all in oral halls or nothing like a white there is no shit scraker no it's watching us not being bothered if like it or I'm not being bothered to feel like at the next moment juice saw it instinctively if all I've an absolute zero-point possibly with teenagers that can be quietly on the internet they carve my urns to the car mountain and I carve my orange background up what kind of Therefore I equally wait your reply

//You okay? D: buddy i- what in the world..... Pat Pat for you. K.

[insociablementcompliquee]

S’il te plaît. Non va t’en. Ne me regarde pas. Mes démons font froid dans le dos. Ils aspirent tout. Ils ne feront qu’une bouchée de toi. J’ai mal. Ils me torturent le cœur à coup de petit pique argenté. Tu ne peux pas comprendre. Aide moi. Fuis. Non ne t’en va pas. J’ai besoin d’une épaule sur laquelle me reposer. S’il te plaît. 3 petites minutes. Ça ne sera pas long. Pardon. Non ne restes pas. Surtout pas. Vite. Barre toi.

[glamgoblin]

Tagged by @ella-norah to do this. Thank you for tag bestie!! 🫶🏻

Rules:

Post the first lines of your last 10 fics posted to AO3. (Sort by date posted.) If you have less than 10 fics posted, post what you have!

✨Fics below the cut! ✨

Please read the trigger warnings for fics 3 and 5

1. Midnight Rendezvous - Phayu/Rain Modern Mythology AU and Crack (Love in the Air)

“When was the last time you actually raced?” Prapai leant against the barricade, waiting for Phayu to fix his bike after Prapai’s last race.

2. The Reunion - Multiship family feels and crossover (Love in the Air + Not Me) Co-written by the fantastic @ella-norah

White just finished the talk to his father. He has heard the best news ever - he’s going back home to Thailand. Finally!

3. A Little Too Much Energy - Phayu/Rain and besties, long distance relationship and difficult pregnancy issues. Omegaverse (Love in the Air)

tw: mention of potential miscarriage

When Rain first found out he was pregnant he was thrilled. Him and Phayu had been trying for awhile, and Rain was ready to be a dada. Even just looking at the little blue lines on the test made his heart swell. That day he went to the store and bought a children’s toy set to set to surprise Phayu.

4. Uncharted Waters - NSFW Phayu/Rain mermaid au (Love in the Air)

The moment Phayu’s lips touched Rain’s, Rain knew he’d be Phayu’s forever. All the butterflies in his stomach, all the times he’d convinced himself he should find someone, all the years of holding on to a memory he was never supposed to make, they all made sense now.

5. Light At The End of the World - Gen. Macau decides he doesn’t want to be here anymore and his last thoughts (Kinnporsche)

tw: suicide, self harm, graphic depictions of wounds

Macau felt whole with the gouges on his arms. Like they were always meant to be there. He took comfort in knowing it was almost over. Letting the blood drip from him he felt his heartbeat for the first time.

6. Mortal Love - Phayu/Rain, Ink Exchange and Siren AU (Love in the Air)

“Are you sure you want to do this Rain?” Sky asked for the tenth time on their walk over to the shop. Today Rain would be getting a tattoo, despite Sky’s interrogation.

“Yes, it’ll be fun.”

“It’s not just because…” Sky trailed off.

7. Mis-Match - AkkAyan getting together fic where Yok is Akk’s brother. A veryyyyy belated Christmas gift for the wonderful @wintercrushes (The Eclipse + Not Me)

“Awww!” Chaos incarnate came bounding up to the school gates. “How’s my favorite brother in law? Akk being troublesome again?”

8. Repose My Love, I’ve Sinned Enough for the Both of Us - NSFW Vegas/Pete, aka the one where I challenged myself to hide ten random song lyrics in a smut fic. Happens when Pete is captured by Vegas (Kinnporsche)

The room smelled of blood and cheap cleaner. The kind meant for when you expected something to get dirty all over again.

9. Parting Shot - Phayu/Rain, Years ago Phayu and Rain broke up despite still being in love. When on a trip Phayu runs into Rain and Rain’s daughter, who happens to look exactly like Phayu. Omegaverse. (Love in the Air)

Phayu thought he was sneaking into the house, it was three am and they both had work early in the morning. Rain should be asleep right now.

10. Roses are Red, Now I Can’t Get Out of Bed - NSFW Phayu/Rain sex pollen fic for the PhayuRain discord server prompt (Love in the Air)

Planning dates was always fun for Phayu. He wasn’t as romantic as Prapai, choosing to show his love in different ways, but he always had one or two surprises to show Rain how much he loved him.

Tagging @soyellowcurtainsthen @loveable-sea-lemon and @machoestofmen to show off your fics bc I love them but only if you want to! (I know these things take forever.)

[ernestinee]

Les journées de fin août, début septembre, sont souvent déterminantes pour moi.

Aujourd'hui j'ai mesuré combien mes patients sont importants pour moi. J'avais écrit "combien mon travail est important pour moi" mais non, j'aime mon job, je le fais bien mais la saveur est dans les petits détails apportés par les patients et leurs parents.

Alors j'ai déjà constaté ça plusieurs fois hein, on ne tient pas un scoop. Mais aujourd'hui les quelques heures de travail de cette fin de journée ont contrasté vraiment très fort avec l'ensemble pourri de la nuit et du début de journée. Because ma dent bien sûr.

La douleur c'est quand même un truc de fou. Alors oui, il y a du doux dans mes jours en ce moment, ça va plutôt bien. Mais la douleur! Alors en gros, je me suis cassé une dent avant les vacances. Mais tu sais ce que c'est, y a le boulot, l'ado, les examens, les anti-inflammatoires et je n'ai pas eu mal. J'ai été tranquille jusqu'à vendredi dernier, le soir, où là, du jour au lendemain, bam. Douleur insupportable. Supportée grâce à un mix totalement exagéré d'anti-inflammatoires et d'anti-douleur pris en même temps. Depuis lundi, ce cocktail faisait de l'effet à peine une heure et je devais ensuite attendre plusieurs heures pour pouvoir en reprendre.

La nuit dernière et ce matin ont été absolument insupportables, je crois que la douleur peut facilement mener à la folie et à l'automutilation. Vraiment on dirait que j'exagère, mais pas du tout.

Et aujourd'hui 13h30 j'avais rendez-vous chez le dentiste. Pour ça j'ai du annuler deux patients d'1h,et prévenir les trois suivants que "je vous tiens au courant quand j'en sors et j'arrive tout de suite". Comme ils sont adorables, ils ont chacun répondu à leur façon "non mais ne t'inquiète pas, on annule cette fois, repose toi".

Bref il me restait seulement 3 patients que je n'avais pas envie d'annuler parce que je ne les ai plus vus depuis deux mois. Mais j'avais quand même la flemme parce que j'ai fait une petite sieste après le dentiste, parce que mon demi-visage était encore anesthésié, et parce que quand je manque de sommeil, mon jugement n'est pas toujours bien motivé. J'y suis allée quand même bien sûr.

Pour la première, on a repris la représentation mentale des opérations. On a fait des multiplications et des divisions avec des perles et du fil. Elle a eu l'air de tilter mais c'est très très fragile chez elle. A la fin elle a demandé un jeu et comme je dois bosser sa flexibilité mentale, on a joué à Imagidés : on lance 12 dès qui représentent des personnages, des actions, et des accessoires et on improvise une histoire. Bon ça ne travaille pas que la flexibilité, mais les autres compétences requises sont déjà présentes chez elle. Elle a voulu le reprendre à la maison et c'est ça le petit détail que j'ai aimé avec elle.

La deuxième m'attendait tranquillou, seule, dans la salle d'attente, et a installé un jeu pendant que je reconduisais la précédente près de ses parents. Jusqu'à il y a peu, elle était dans un gros refus de lire. Je lui avais demandé de lire une syllabe par jour pendant les vacances, et de surtout bien se concentrer sur la première lettre. Elle l'a fait, le papa est arrivé avec des syllabes collées dans tous les sens sur une feuille de papier, "elle l'a fait hein, elle a bien voulu et j'ai même fait un jeu où on lançait un truc sur la feuille et il fallait lire la syllabe où le truc arrivait " et c'était ça le détail de cette patiente. C'était le papa fier d'avoir inventé un jeu, qu'elle ait accepté, qu'il l'ait aidée à progresser et qu'il me l'annonce aussi joyeusement, avec la feuille à bout de bras comme un trophée.

Puis le dernier est un nouveau patient que je récupère de chez une collègue. Manifestement, ça s'est mal passé avec elle. Les parents me racontent en détails pourquoi ça s'est mal passé et j'ai mal pour lui qui a passé 6 mois dans ces conditions de thérapie. J'avais vu le petit chou début juillet, et c'était aujourd'hui la deuxième fois. Le détail, outre son envie, sa motivation et sa concentration, c'est quand ses parents me disent "il demandait tellement quand il revenait qu'on a entouré la date d'aujourd'hui dans le calendrier, il compte les jours depuis deux mois"

Voilà c'est ça la saveur de mon travail, c'est leur implication, leur envie, leur confiance en moi et l'équipe qu'on forme avec les parents. Je crois que quand j'ai un coup de flemme je ne dois pas me dire que je vais bosser mais plutôt que je vais voir mes patients.

[sloubs]

Coucou Ali,

Repose toi bien.

Après ta cholécystectomie réussie, tu en as pour 3 semaines avant que tout reviennent à la normale.

Vas y doucement mais sûrement, c'est tout frais .

"Qui va piano va sano" comme on dit à Rome 🫶❤️

Prend soin de toi , petit massage virtuel 😘

TROIS SEMAINES ?? 😭 je pensais que c'était moins que ça, c'est si long.....merci beaucoup pour tes conseils <3

[389]

Calme ton âme mon frère d’arme. Repose toi. Ça va aller, tt va passer, je suis avec toi. On peut se voir ce soir envoie moi un msg en anon

S’il te plaît.

<3

[mmeveronica]

L'essence de moi est que je t'aime

« Unité 3-VE, suivez la nouvelle directive de l'unité 0-AA, éliminer Marie. »

« Non ! »

« Aïe ! »

« Ève, il va être bien. Tu as battu des viruses du porno plus mauvais que celui-ci. Tu peut s'en tirer ! »

« Marie, j3 ne peu× pas. €ll3 sait le m0t de pas5e adm1ni$trat1f. »

« Puis le change bordel ! »

« C'3st tr0p t@rd p0ur f@1r3 c€la, m@ chérie. »

« Bon. Je vais détruire son ordinateur central et retirer ce virus de toi. »

« Oh mon cœur... n0u$ n'av0n5 pa5 le t€mp5. »

« Ève, je vais te sortir de tout ça. »

« J3 va1$ l3 c0mb@ttre au551 l0ng+€mp5 qu3 j3 peu×. »

« Tu vas gagner ! »

« Unité 3-VE, débarrassez vos fichiers de la mémoire. »

« Ève, non ! »

« Marie, 3ll€ n3 p3ut p@5 m€ u+!l!5€r p0ur f@!r€ m@l à t0!. »

« Unité 3-VE, supprimez les sous-routines non essentielles qui ne concernent pas le combat, puis éliminez Marie. »

« Ève ! »

« €113 n3 p€u+ p@$ m3 u+1|15€r p0ur f@1re ma-ma-mal, Marie. »

Ève se tait, elle roule vers Marie et repose son capteur visuel sur sa épaule.

« Ève, » Marie commence à pleurer, « Ève, je sais pas si je peux le faire sans toi. »

Ève tire Marie près de sa carte mère et la serre étroitement là.

« Les sous-routines non essentielles sont supprimées, » alors que l'unité 0-AA parle, Ève lâche Marie, « acceptez la nouvelle directive, Unité 3-VE. »

Ève se position entre Marie et l'unité 0-AA.

« Unité 3-VE, supprimez les sous-routines empêchant vous d'accepter la nouvelle directive. »

Ève devient molle.

« Ève. »

[lunechante]

Quand il s’agit de ce que je ressens, j’ai l’impression de ne plus arriver à faire la différence entre ce qui est réel et ce qui ne l’est pas.

Des semaines que j’ai de légers acouphènes en continu. Parfois, je sais que c’est ça, mais à d’autres moments, je ne sais pas si c’est moi ou un bruit discret mais réel que j’entends.

Au niveau émotionnel, c’est encore pire. Hier par exemple. Tout allait bien, enfin, je croyais. Je venais de passer une nuit sans interruption (très rare pour moi, la dernière date de début février, les précédentes de novembre…) et une copine venait manger le midi, j’étais plutôt contente.

En discutant avec la copine de mon dernier rendez vous chez le médecin, elle m’a dit que j’étais en colère et m’a demandé pourquoi, ce qui m’a beaucoup décontenancée parce que je n’avais pas remarqué que j’étais en colère. J’ai essayé de lui expliquer, la fatigue de devoir toujours tout réexpliquer, mon manque de confiance en les professionnels de santé (suite à de nombreuses fois où je n’ai pas été prise au sérieux, où on m’a prescrit des médicaments dont je n’avais pas besoin et/ou qui ont considérablement empiré les choses), mon agacement à ce que cette médecin qui n’est pas ma médecin traitante me demande systématiquement si je suis à jour de mes frottis alors que je n’ai pas de vie sexuelles et que je viens la voir pour un arrêt de travail pour me reposer une semaine avant de me refaire happer par les idées suicidaires contre lesquelles je peine de plus en plus à lutter. Bien sûr que dans ces moments-là j’ai pas envie en plus de devoir me justifier auprès d’une inconnue de ne pas avoir besoin de frottis parce que j’ai autre chose à foutre que d’avoir une vie amoureuse et sexuelle. Que j’en ai marre de devoir toujours justifier mon diagnostic parce que je masque tellement bien que je n’ai pas du tout « l’air autiste », whatever that means, et que parce que ça ne se voit pas ça ne veut pas dire que les difficultés ne sont pas là et qu’il faut me traiter comme une neurotypique. Que j’en ai marre de passer mon temps à renoncer à avoir une vie personnelle pour être tout juste capable de fonctionner en pilote automatique au travail. Que en fait j’ai envie de voir ma famille et mes amis (mais j’ai pas eu le temps d’expliquer que c’est pas si simple parce qu’il faut que ce soit à petites doses parce que ça me demande du repos, et que le repos c’est du temps seule. Toute seule. Dans le calme, chez moi, sans personne d’autre autour). Que ça me fait du mal de ne pas pouvoir avoir accès à tout ça. Parce que c’est quand même des besoins que j’ai. Et la seule réponse que j’ai c’est « mais une vie de famille c’est fatiguant aussi tu sais », alors que en fait ce qui me fait mal c’est ce renoncement sans fin. Toujours.

C’est un peu comme mes crises d’angoisse, que j’ai mis très longtemps à identifier comme telles, parce que je n’hyperventile pas (comme apparemment la plupart des gens). Et je n’ai pas non plus l’impression que j’ai un poids sur la poitrine. Non, il y a deux possibilités : soit j’ai mal au ventre à en avoir du mal à rester debout. Mais je vais quand même attendre d’être seule pour me mettre dans un position plus confortable, soit j’ai mal au cœur. Je crois. Quelque part par là en tout cas. Que ce qui est entre la cage thoracique et le diaphragme se rétrécit. Si je prends de plus grandes respirations, c’est bien pire. Les premières fois, je croyais que j’allais mourrir. Puis vers 14 ans j’ai pris l’habitude. Il faut attendre que ça passe. En général quelques heures. Parfois plusieurs jours, voire un peu plus d’une semaine.

C’est aussi me rendre compte que quand mes proches sont au bout du rouleau, la pire pensée qu’ils ont c’est « ce serait bien que ma fille soit malade comme ça j’aurais une excuse pour rester à la maison ». Moi les 3/4 du temps c’est « quand tu rentres du boulot tu es trop crevée tu n’arrives même pas à t’occuper de toi, tu n’as plus envie de rien du tout, tu sers à rien, tu ne vas jamais mieux, ça n’ira jamais mieux, tu emmerdes tout le monde avec tes problèmes qui n’en sont pas, arrête tout ça. Mais bois pas de l’eau de javel, tu te raterais. Si tu te jettes par la fenêtre c’est pas assez haut tu te raterais aussi. Il faut prendre le reste de neuroleptiques que ce débile de psychiatre t’avait fait prendre ». Pour moi c’est quasi quotidien, depuis l’adolescence. Mais quand les autres sont dans un état inquiétant, c’est bien éloigné de ça. Et on s’occupe d’eux. Moi la première. Mais quand moi je suis comme ça tout le monde s’en fout. Je n’ai pas le droit à cette attention. Quand j’essaye de l’exprimer, soit on change très vite de sujet, soit on me dit qu’on est triste pour moi mais qu’il faut que je vois un professionnel. Comme si j’en avais pas vu assez, qui soit ne m’aident pas, soit me sédatent au point que je ne suis plus moi. Vraiment, dans ma tête il n’y a plus rien. Aucune envie. Aucune attention. Je ne peux même pas lire. Alors me ressourcer, n’en parlons même pas. Je ne suis plus en capacité de m’engager dans les activités qui me font du bien.

Alors oui, j’étais en colère, merci de me l’avoir fait remarquer. Je n’avais même pas haussé la voix. Après ca je me suis mise à pleurer. Mais j’en fais quoi de cette colère ? Quand je la garde en moi, elle ne disparaît pas, elle grandit jusqu’au moment où elle explose. Quand je l’exprime, je vois bien que je gêne. Que je peine celles à qui j’essaie d’en parler. Personne ne me répond jamais qu’elle est légitime. C’est qu’elle est donc irrationnelle je suppose. Mais qu’est-ce que je fais avec ?

La copine en question (qui donc ne va pas bien en ce moment), elle arrive à exprimer ses besoins à son conjoint. Moi, ça me met très longtemps pour les identifier. Puis après, je ne sais pas trop à qui en parler… Quand il s’agit de besoins/limites sensorielles, à chaque fois que je les ai exprimés à ma famille, on s’en foutait, j’exagérais. Mes besoins humains (d’attention, d’être rassurée, de connexion), j’ai honte de le exprimer. Parce que ce serait réclamer l’attention de l’autre, être needy. Alors je n’ose pas. On m’a tellement dit que j’étais comme ça, et que c’est pas bien, que ce n’est que quand j’arrive au fond du fond du trou que je vais lever ma main. En espérant qu’on la voit et qu’on l’attrape. Mais sans être capable de demander clairement.