#I wouldn’t call myself a good source as I don’t know everything I only know what I know (meant unironically)

[nadekofannumber1]

Are there any visual novels that you are interested in playing?

Yeah, I feel like there’s a lot I want to read but I only ever have so much time. I do intend on getting through them eventually tho. Im even currently on one now along side a friend. Oddly enough I’ve done a little bit of research on VN history and watched videos on some stuff as research BC I’m also just into old video games (like if you wanted to learn about dante98(the first rpgmaker) you might want to know surrounding culture of pc98 vn stuff and the effects games like Portopia had). There’s also many interesting ways western CRPG and Classic point and click games intersect with VNs as a concept (lotta history won’t elaborate now)

TLDR: yeah.

Also the vn I’m reading is Tsukihime, I’ll prolly read more nasu works at some point after I’m done.

[ya9amicide]

Redamancy [BTS]

chapter one

♡ info ♡ k-pop masterlist ♡ next chapter ♡

summary: Hybrids were accepted in society to a certain degree. To some, they are for entertainment. Used as sex and money tools. To lock up and abuse whenever and however they please. Something to have control over. To others, they are companions. Just like regular animals are used for therapy or simply companionship, hybrids are too.

To the rest, they are just like everyone else. Someone with their own life who deserves the same freedoms as your everyday John or Jane Doe. Wren is one of these people. She hates the idea of owning a hybrid. She has nothing against those who own them for medical or companionship reasons. Just the rest.

But, when a ragtag pack of seven mismatched hybrids somehow ends up in the woods behind her home, she takes them in and does the one thing she never thought she would do. Own them. But, she also does something she didn't even think was possible. She fell in love with each and every one of them.

pairing(s): ot7 x ot7, ot7 x oc

warnings: none

Most hybrids come from Asian countries because of the ethereal beauty they possess. For most, that is the only asset that keeps them alive. The way most of these hybrids end up in other countries is if they are sold to someone and brought there. Now, the entire world has hybrids mixed into its population.

Being a writer, I always get asked why I haven't written anything about hybrids. For a fantasy writer, it's like the jackpot of writing material considering they actually exist and all the information I would need is right at my fingertips if I want it to be.

It's just something that never sat right with me. I don't know everything and the only way to know everything is to speak to one myself. I don't own a hybrid. I won't own a hybrid. I have nothing against people who own them as long as they are treating them with care. But, I just don't feel comfortable interrogating someone for the purpose of a story.

Hybrids have very unique, very personal aspects to their lives that other people don't have. It would be like asking the deepest most personal questions about someone's life. It's unfathomably uncomfortable.

Luckily, I can escape the demands for hybrid content when I'm teaching. Teaching Greek mythology to college students has its perks in that regard. Which, leads me to where I am now, wrapping up my lecture for the day.

"Alright everyone, don't forget your homework for the weekend." Some students groan at the back of the room. I stand from behind my desk, walking around to the front where I lean against it with my hip. "Yes, yes, I know. Just be thankful you get a whole weekend for it, your other professors probably wouldn't be so nice. Now, any questions?"

Two hands raise in the air and I call on the first one to come up. "How many sources did we need to cite again?"

"At least three," I say. "You can use more if you'd like, I have no issue with that. However, I hope I don't need to remind you which types of websites aren't credible sources?"

Everyone shakes their heads and I nod, calling on the next person. "Will there be any time to come in to ask questions about our papers before Monday?"

"To come in, no. Unfortunately not. However, if you'd like you can email me with any questions you have or just send me a draft and I can read it for you and give you feedback that way. I will try to get back to you asap if I can. Just please do not email me Monday morning or late Sunday night as I will be asleep and it will be too late for you."

When I finish speaking everyone shuffles in their seats. "Any more questions?" When nobody else speaks up, I lean upright from my position in front of my desk. "If that's all then you are all free to go. Have a good weekend." I receive goodbyes from almost every student as they leave. Once the last one does, I shuffle all of my belongings together and leave the room, locking the door.

On my way home, it starts to rain. It's been in the forecast all week but it was only supposed to be a slight drizzle. This, however, is a torrential downpour. Pulling into my driveway and parking, I brace myself to make a run for it. There's no way I won't get drenched.

Walking inside, I toe off my shoes and drop my things by the door before going upstairs to change into warm and comfy clothes for the evening. Walking into the kitchen for food, I pass the large, sliding glass doors that lead to my backyard and the woods behind my house.

Cereal for dinner sounds good. With a bowl of dry cereal in one hand and a glass of milk in the other, I make my way to the living room. On the way, I pass by the glass door again. Lighting strikes, lighting up the yard and the woods in the distance. In the treeline, I almost swear I can see an animal. It's not super big, but it's not small either. Surprisingly, even with the woods bordering my house, not many animals make their way out. so, seeing one now is slightly odd.

I set my food down on the coffee table and move back to the kitchen, making a plate of food for...whatever is out there. If it's in the woods in a storm like this, it must be hungry. Sliding open the glass door, I set the plate down on the porch under the awning and move back inside where I sit on the couch with my own food and the tv playing in front of me.

I'm around two episodes into the show I was watching when I hear footsteps on the back porch. They're small but loud enough for me to hear through the rain which has settled down into a soft drizzle. Standing, I make my way to the door, trying to keep my steps light and my posture open so whatever is out there doesn't feel threatened by me.

When I'm close enough to see what it is, I find a German Shepherd right before it shifts and a man is left in its place. My hand reaches out for the door handle when he sees me. His eyes widen and he scrambles to pocket all of the food and make a run for the woods.

I quickly open the door trying to stop him. "Wait, please! You don't have to go." He freezes in his steps, halfway off the porch. "I- I can give you more food if that isn't enough. And some water too if you want?" He's thin and pale and shaking like a leaf where he stands. "Please?" My voice is soft, I'm afraid if I speak too loud he'll run away. "I just want to help."

It feels like we stare at each other for hours before he nods his head, barely enough for me to see but it's still a nod. "Okay, okay that's good," I say and lead him inside. "Let me get you a towel so you can dry off, you must be cold." I don't wait for him to respond before I rush off to get it. When I come back, he's in the same spot I left him.

"Here," I hand him the towel and watch as he wraps it around himself. Slowly, his shivering starts to calm down. "Do you have any preferences?"

He looks at me strangely, head tilting to the side. The ears on the top of his head flop to the side softly, the fur wet. "To eat? Is there anything in particular you want? Anything I should avoid?" He seems to take a minute to process what I asked him before he slowly shakes his head. "Okay. You can um...you can come wait in the kitchen while I get you something if you want."

He timidly walks in behind me and watches everything I do. I decided on soup. Hopefully, the warmth from the food would make him feel better. "Is it just you?" I ask timidly.

"No," he says softly after some hesitation.

"Are- are they close? Whoever you're with?"

"Yes."

I pause what I'm doing. Maybe I should make more soup..."How many of you are there?" How much food am I going to need to make?

He shifts uncomfortably. "Seven. Including me."

"Do they want to come in? You can invite them if you want." I avoid looking at him, continuing to make more food.

"What?" He sounds surprised and wary.

"Only if you want. I mean," I stop and chuckle slightly, "seven versus one? If I were to try anything, which I won't, I think you all have the advantage. Don't you think?"

He waited for a few minutes, probably trying to see if I was pulling his leg. "Okay." He slowly makes his way to the sliding door, I can feel his eyes on me, keeping me in his sight. Leaving the door open, he shifts back into a German Shepherd and lets out a loud howl towards the forest. Anything else beyond that, I don't hear because of the volume of the storm raging outside. It was around 15 minutes before he came back inside, several pairs of footsteps shuffling in behind him.

I freeze, gently putting down what was in my hands before slowly turning to face the group of hybrids in my home.

[writing-for-life]

WIP Wednesday

So these two are torturing me and have been for a while. It’s the sequel to “The Light of Stars” (read it! Go on, you know you want to 🤣), and I’m currently calling it “The Pillars of Creation” (that’s a reference to the clouds in the Eagle Nebula. And I’ve shamelessly also already bookmarked that one for another working title as well. Because… brain-worms. And reasons).

I still don’t write chapters in sequence, and I wrote this chapter after finishing a particularly harrowing one because I needed to clear my head. With smut 🤣 Although my fanfic smut isn’t super explicit (I think depending on your take, they’re probably rather M than E, although I have a couple of scenes in this one that straddle the line a bit).

But if you know me, you also know that my smut is never just smut for smut’s sake. After the smuttiest of smutty intros (well no, it’s not just an intro, it’s half of a 4,700 words chapter. Give them a chance to be happy for a bit 🤣), we arrive at this point. And we aren’t done after this bit either. But you’ll need to wait for the rest. The working title for this chapter is “On the Nature of Pleasure”. Maybe I should have just called it “Sex Therapy.” Because yes, I sometimes think he needs it 🙈

“You do not need to oppose me to get what you wish for.” He tried to look serious but failed miserably.

“I wouldn’t dare, and it’s not just about what I wish for.” She slid off to the floor before she hugged her knees and let her chin rest on them.

“Is it not?” Morpheus turned on his side, head on his arm, face soft, eyes shining like liquid silver. He reached out his other arm to touch her face.

She leaned into his touch. “No.”

They stayed like this for a while, just looking at each other. There was much they didn’t say out loud, and yet, they both knew what the other was thinking. She sensed what he wanted because he didn’t attempt to hide it, and what he let her see was beautiful in its unguarded vulnerability. But she also felt how hard he fought making it real, for reasons not entirely clear to her.

“Is it okay if we close off the entrance to this space?”

He nodded, and the alcove closed shut so no one on the outside would even know it existed. Some sources of soft light, suspended in mid-air, had appeared out of nowhere to illuminate what would have otherwise been a pitch-black space.

“May I ask you to sit up?” she asked quietly.

He hesitated for a moment before he did. She gently pushed apart his knees and moved between his legs before she laid her hands flat on his clothed thighs, just looking up at him.

“I still find it difficult to see you kneel before me,” he admitted.

She shifted and sat cross-legged instead, at least for the time being. “We won’t do anything you don’t want.”

His voice was hoarse when he said, “I want everything you just… perceived, but I shouldn’t.”

“Why not? Nothing about what you let me see felt wrong in any way.” She slowly ran her hands along his thighs. “It’s okay to find pleasure in something for no other reason than it feeling good, and it just being for you.”

“It should be for you first.”

She took his hand and laid it on the side of her face. “Then you will also understand how much I wish this to be for you, and for you only.” His eyes began brimming with tears he quickly blinked away. “Can you take off your clothes? With your hands?”

He hesitantly took off his shirt, discarded it to the floor and moved on to his jeans before he stopped. “Could you take them off for me?”

“Is it truly for you?”

“What?” His brow tied itself up in knots.

“Do you want me to take off your jeans because it is what you want me to do, or because you think it would please me to do so?”

“Those options might occasionally coincide—you asked me to disrobe, after all.” He blinked slowly with a soft smile. “It is for me because a tight space such as this makes it slightly cumbersome to fully undress myself—if I am to use my hands. Unless you would like me to be… smaller? Which could be arranged.”

Thalia snorted. “Okay, but you get what I’m trying to say?”

He apparently fought very hard not to laugh. “Yes.”

The atmosphere shifted again after Thalia had taken off the remainder of his clothes, and he sat in front of her naked. Not that he had ever had a problem with it in the past, but this was different.

She laid her hands on his thighs again. “What next?”

“Would you let me undress you?”

“Is it for you or for me?”

“For me.”

“Why?”

“Because I wish to look at you.”

“And you can’t do that when I’m dressed?”

“I appreciate your form.”

“And you don’t when I’m dressed?”

He glanced down at his hands for the briefest of moments. His voice was muted, but he looked straight into her eyes again when he said, “It arouses me to see you naked.”

“Now we’re getting somewhere.”

“You are impossible.”

“So you keep telling me,” she said, and he just shook his head at her. “Do you want me to stand up?”

“No.” He just waved his hand, and her clothes were gone.

“Cheat.”

“My apologies.”

They smiled at each other for a moment before she resumed. “Would you like to touch yourself?”

His reply was an immediate and resounding, “No.”

Haaaaaaa, you didn’t think you’d get all of it, did you? 🤣

I just wanted to give you a little something to tide you over. They’re very sweet. Sometimes, they’re really not (yes Thalia, I’m also looking at you!). There is a lot of exploration of abandoning control in this one, both of self and others (not just in the bedroom of course, but you know, sometimes you just have to go there 🤣). They’re also funny, in sometimes weirdly tragic ways. He’s trying so hard. He’s doing so well. Until he doesn’t. As one would expect. 😩

[ipsen]

Eto Character Analysis

Big long post coming. Couldn’t help myself.

Admittedly, I’m mostly stealing from this post from the old ages (it’s crazy good and turned Eto into my favorite character), so you can read that and honestly get the same information. But I figured I’d take a swing at the behemoth myself.

Also wanna preface the analysis with the fact that I’m using the official translations as my source, as I can’t access the original scans and also couldn’t read them even if I did (cursed by monolingual tendencies).

Under the cut!

Eto is, unfortunately, a character that is built mainly on subtext crammed into very few chapters. Figuring her out is very difficult and a lot of her more nuanced traits can go over most people’s heads (it’s easy to call her insane, for example, and while she does have a few issues up in the old cranium, i’d hardly call her that).

The most important thing about Eto to keep in mind when discussing her is that she has been failed, and as a result of that, she also believes that she has failed those around her.

Her father left her in what is basically a literal shithole, especially for a baby. Her mother, though she died without really knowing Eto, did leave a journal behind, and Eto’s singular insight to the work regarding herself is that she is just a “byproduct,” and her foster parent got killed (presumably) protecting her from V, punting her to an orphanage where she’d have to steal money to survive (see: re 62), and presumably pretty often at that.

She got insanely lucky with the writer gig and shiono, who-- side note-- means a lot to her. Finally, a positive adult figure in her life! Unfortunately, he is a) only human, and b) her editor/coworker, so his positive influence, while welcome, is limited. still, she picks up his cute little hand gestures and I, personally, appreciate that (see: re 62 and compare it to TG 114).

Just the greatest.

Where was I... Ah, Eto being failed by those around her. And where does that leave her? Look no further than TG 98:

“A replacement is merely a replacement.” Eto doesn’t believe in found family, because she never actually found one.

And within the context of this chapter, we learn another thing about Eto. Whenever she interacts with someone and “breaks” them (the Yasuhisas, Kanae), she heavily projects onto them (because she recognizes their situation; notice how she only ever targets people who are both relatable to her and weaker than her) and breaks apart the “lie” the target tells themself, even if it isn’t entirely accurate:

(re 43) This is a false statement; Kanae does wish for Shuu to recover, he’s just upset it’s happening like this. Because who wouldn’t be, in his situation? Despite everything that he and the others did for Shuu, the only thing able to bring him out of his depression is the very thing that caused it. But I digress.

Back on track, there’s also Haise’s analysis of her work, the most personal thing she has, to consider when discussing her in re 39:

Once again, the void rears its ugly head.

Hopelessness. Emptiness. Filling it with anger and bitterness, and it’s never enough, but it’s all she has. Because the void can only be filled by the things she can never have.

So she throws herself at the CCG, banging her head against its walls with small raids alongside some fellow ghouls and then taking on the special investigators by herself. She’s 14, she’s a kakuja, and she’s mad. Mad at the world that failed her, mad at V for making it the way it is, and mad that things haven’t changed for a very long time. She has Ukina’s journal; she knows how stale the “narrative” is.

Of course, her raids don’t work very well, but she’s basically just a kid. She is as old as Hinami during TG.

Then, she’s finally thrown a bone, and is worse off for it:

Something I’ve noticed when factoring Arima’s influence into Eto’s character is that there is an assumption that the power dynamic between them is equal. It isn’t. I cannot stress this enough; there is a hierarchy at play here, and Eto isn’t the one on top. How do we know this?

(TG 139)

(re 52)

Kaneki was the new toy to replace Eto, the old one.

The ultimate plan is “the One-Eyed King will destroy the egg of V’s world and make something new.” By the time Kaneki does take the throne, this plan has been going on for 13 years. Kaneki was chosen as a candidate at the ten-year mark; he had to have been a non-factor before then. So who is left to become the king instead?

Eto.

The age difference between her and Arima is roughly 4-5 years. Remind you of another relationship?

(TG 14)

Uh-oh.

To reiterate, Eto is a 14-year old kid who has been abandoned by everyone who could possibly love her the way she wants. She desires parental love, protective love, the kind of love that makes her feel safe, when she has only ever fought to defend herself.

Enter someone who is far stronger than she could ever be, someone who could actually offer her the protection she so desperately wants. Unfortunately, Kishou Arima is the endgame mindset of Black Reaper Kaneki, to put it simply: someone who is impossibly distant, wants to die, and craves the approval of everyone.

Let’s expand on Arima for a brief moment. “Craves the approval of everyone,” specifically. He is both the One-Eyed King and the greatest ghoul investigator that ever lived. He doesn’t pick one or the other, and when he dies, he doesn’t have to pick. He is mourned by the CCG, and Kaneki, ever a puppet in someone else’s game, carries on his legacy and “wish“ for coexistence.

Eto is no exception to his godly levels of charisma. She is one of Hinami’s foils, and we know how quickly and easily she latched onto Kaneki. It’s safe to assume that something similar happened with Eto and Arima.

And Eto failed him. She doesn’t become king; someone else does. Someone very similar. And yet, when faced with this new person:

(re 56)

Well, then.

Eto also does everything in her power to give Kaneki the information he needs to break the eggshell. She freely gives away information about V, the Washuu’s involvement with them, the connection to the CCG, everything. Or as much as she can give him while under Cochlea’s surveillance.

So what’s the game here? Why does she support Kaneki, the one who basically stole Arima's approval, something everyone around him wants, from under her nose? Better yet, why is she aiding the search for her “replacement” in the first place? Because remember, even before Kaneki registered on her radar for a candidate for the OEK, she and Aogiri were searching for Kanou, the one-eyed ghoul maker specialist man. Aogiri wanted to use Kanou to make as many possible candidates beyond just Kaneki. So even without Kaneki in the picture, Eto wants a replacement. She wants this. Why?

Well, here’s what I think she actually wants:

(re 53)

There’s no other explanation that I can think of for why she would willingly get herself arrested and leave Aogiri to be fully exterminated on Rushima (the One-Eyed Owl totally could have turned the tables of that battle). She’s only lived as long as she has because she doesn’t want to leave anything unsaid. This is also the reason why she reveals herself as a ghoul as Takatsuki; she’s effectively destroying her own career while simultaneously giving V a huge middle finger.

This desire to close off everything she’s built up until now and pass the torch to Kaneki is also represented in her haircut; she’s literally shedding her burdens to give to someone else. Someone similar to her, but kinder than her. Better than her.

(re 52)

--

I’ve said what I’ve come to say. Thanks for reading!

[kitkatsudon]

KitKat reads the TKEM Novel: Introduction & Prologue & Chapter 1

Hello all! Those that have seen my account over the past couple of days will know that I have recently come into possession of copies of both volumes of the TKEM novel. I always had the vague idea in my mind that these would contain information that we don’t see in the show, characters’ inner monologues and such like, so as someone seemingly on a quest to find out everything there is to know about this show (how did it end up like this? I’m not going to dwell on that before I start regretting all my life choices), I have taken it upon myself to read these books and share this knowledge with the rest of what’s left of this fandom.

These books, of course, are in Korean, which is a language I do not speak and don’t have any intention of learning in the near future. I definitely couldn’t learn Korean in a quick enough time frame to be able to read these books in a satisfyingly short amount of time, so instead I’m utilising the power of the internet and using two online translation services, and then sort of combining the two with my preexisting knowledge of the show to create a usable translation that feels mostly right. So here’s my disclaimer: some of this stuff could very easily be mistranslated, because I’m embarking on this journey with just the powers of the internet, homosexual audacity, and autism to help me along.

So! Here’s how this is going to work. For every chapter of the book I manage to translate, I’m going to make a new post where I summarise the events of the chapter, share my thoughts on it, and then share any specific new details that we’ve learnt. All of them will be tagged with ‘kitkat reads the tkem novel’ so if you want any of the information in this series for whatever reason, hopefully these posts will be easy to find. In this post I’ll cover the prologue and chapter 1 because the prologue is barely anything at all, but from here on out it’ll be one chapter per post… whenever I finish the next chapter.

Ok then. Shall we begin?

Prologue

The novel starts with a bit of preamble about the show’s lore, not much that anyone who had already seen the show wouldn’t know, but I suppose it makes sense to open like this if they were trying to appeal to people who hadn’t already seen the show? It’s an interesting choice, though, because some of this stuff is information we don’t find out until a little later in the show, for example how the two worlds split thanks to the life/death of Crown Prince Sohyeon. However, without the visual nature of the show to keep it appealing, having a little bit of backstory about the Kingdom of Corea would be nice to have so new readers aren’t totally confused about the setting of the novel when it begins.

The only semi-new thing we really learn from the prologue is that the palace (which I will call Haeungung Palace from here on out as part of my personal mission to spread this information) is located specifically on Dongbaekseom island in Busan. This is something I had pretty much figured out already by being a big nerd and looking at screenshots of the show and comparing those to maps of Busan, but it’s nice to have this for real confirmed by a canon source. Another thing to maybe mention is that the flower symbol of the royal Jeonju Lee family is a plum blossom, but this is also something that you could probably work out beforehand.

In conclusion, this is a good introduction… but a little useless to established fans of the show, who I think would make up most of the demographic of this book. Still, it’s best for them to cover their bases.

Chapter 1: Find the clock rabbit

The first thing to mention here is that “clock rabbit” refers to the white rabbit from Alice in Wonderland, which the English subs on Netflix call “the white rabbit with the clock” but I’m going to say “clock rabbit” because that seems to be the direct translation, and it makes all Yeong’s lines about “Is it a rabbit or a clock?” make a lot more sense in my mind. This chapter covers four scenes from episode 1 of the show: the scene where Gon is being dressed by his new attendant Park Gyubong and he catches the talismans that Lady Noh put in his room, the scene where Gon and Koo Seoryeong have their meeting after Gon goes riding, pretty much all of the rowing scene sequence from the race to Gon going to chase after the “clock rabbit,” and then Gon very briefly in his study alone, looking at his Alice in Wonderland book.

What stood out to me the most while reading, getting over the fact that they’ve changed the order of the scenes from the show (Cheonjongo in 1994 is happening next chapter), is how much extra dialogue they’ve cut out. Again… I guess it makes sense, if they’re trying to condense a sixteen episode drama into two volumes of a book then of course they’re going to want to get straight to the point, but this is disappointing for me personally because a lot of what they cut out are the fun, familiar conversations that Gon had with Yeong throughout episode 1. For example, Gon and Yeong never have their conversation after Gon finishes his ride where Yeong reveals that there are more talismans than Gon thought, and they also cut out the conversation between Gon and Yeong in his study after the race day, which means we don’t get “are you having fun, Captain Jo?” and we don’t get their following conversation about Gon wanting to find his saviour, and Yeong assuring him that he’s grown up well and he doesn’t need anyone to save him anymore. Which is… fine. It’s fine, but it’s still disappointing. Even without coming at this from a Gonjo angle, their friendship is still very important to me, and it’s disheartening to find out that where the show abandoned it very quickly, the book doesn’t seem to be developing it at all. That’s not to say that there aren’t moments, but it’s not as much as I would have liked.

The other big thing that stood out to me is… well… how do I put this? The book really wants you to know that Gon is perfect and amazing and handsome and the best man in all of Corea and no one else could ever compare and he’s just so incredible and wonderful and everybody loves him so much and every woman is in love with him because he’s just that good. Which is hilarious to me, as a loser (affectionate) Gon truther, because this man exists in my head as an adorable mess of mathematical equations, overthinking, and pretending to be fine, and it’s just… no matter how many times they tell me how perfect and shiny he is, I’m just not going to believe it. Let me give you an excerpt, so you can see the tone of this and know what I’m talking about.

Gon’s body, which he trained to protect himself against any danger, was perfect because his safety was the security of the kingdom. Gyubong was impressed anew by a glimpse of his hard and wide shoulders.

Gyubong glanced at the pride of the Kingdom of Corea before he could meet his indifferent eyes. His sharp nose, smooth lips, and sharp jawline stood out under his straight eyebrows. The third king of the Kingdom of Corea boasted an appearance that deserved the love of the kingdom’s people.

Like— it’s so unserious! They’re really trying so hard to ram it down your throat how utterly perfect Lee Gon is - and in this scene it reads like Gon’s eyebrows may be straight but Park Gyubong sure isn’t. They also mention Gon’s “long legs” when he’s running after his clock rabbit and… wow, does this answer that age old question? Is this what Yeong knows that Gon uses his long legs for - running away and giving Yeong a headache?

So, after all this, what have we learnt so far?

Park Gyubong is either very confident in his heterosexuality or he has a huge crush on King Lee Gon

“The royal courtiers often found the principled Captain of the Guard more difficult than the easy-going king” which… hurts me, a little, to imagine the palace staff bitching about Yeong behind his back. Does it make sense? …yes, to be fair yes, yes it does, it makes a lot of sense for Yeong to rule Haeungung palace with an iron fist as he tries desperately to take care of Gon’s safety, so I just hope that none of the other members of staff are being too mean about our beloved Yeongie :(

Yeong’s naval rank is confirmed to be a Soryeong/Lieutenant Commander! If you’ve seen my post about military ranks in TKEM then you’ll see that this is something that you can see in the show by looking at his epaulettes, but it’s nice to have it confirmed in writing here

Yeong was described as being “born and bred to serve the king.” This is something we knew already, but having it said explicitly here… it’s doing something to me, so it’s getting its own point.

Yeong specifically says to Park Gyubong that “His Majesty doesn’t like other people’s hands touching his body.” It’s not just any touch, he specifically mentions hands. Fanfic nation, do with this information what you will.

Mentioning the moment where little Yeong joined little Gon in crying after Lee Ho’s funeral is something that hurts Yeong’s pride. We can only assume that Gon knows this because he has brought it up in the past and Yeong has got very flustered about it.

On that topic, Gon thinks about that moment after his dad’s funeral after Yeong is like !!!!! when Park Gyubong mentions covering Gon’s scar.

Lady Noh has been noticeably anxious about finding Gon a partner ever since he turned thirty (Korean age). Gon isn’t sure if it was before that, but thirty is the age that he mentions. The Korean word for partner used is 짝, which Wordreference tells me means “pair, mate, buddy.” Interestingly, not necessarily wife, very gender neutral. This is in Gon’s internal monologue so again, fanfic nation, this one’s for you.

It’s also said that Lady Noh is more like a mother to Gon than his own mother was, which again is something we already knew but it’s very nice to have it written.

It’s crossed Lady Noh’s mind that Gon might have a secret mistress and that’s why he has never been interested in getting married, but she figured that this was illogical because Gon is always being watched while he’s in the palace. Thank you for your hard work, Jo Yeong!

The issue of marriage is apparently the only duty of Gon’s that he ever abandons, which… idk, there’s something there.

Gon feels like he’s free of all his worries when he goes riding, especially with Maximus, so riding is basically like Gon’s therapy :D

Maximus is his “favourite horse” which is something else that’s just nice to have in writing

It is mentioned several times in this chapter that Gon “is the favourite of every woman in the kingdom.” It’s giving… heteronormative, but that doesn’t surprise me. However, Koo Seoryeong doesn’t count herself as being one of these women because she can see up close how Gon is putting on as much of an act as she is.

Koo Seoryeong’s ex-husband was not only from a chaebol family but also a conglomerate leader. This is interesting to me because it’s mentioned in the show that he’s the second son so… what happened to the first son? Is he the leader of his own separate corporation? Was he just not as good as his younger brother?

Gon finds the way Koo Seoryeong is clear about expressing her desires uncomfortable because, as the king, he’s never been able to have his own desires or express his own desires freely

“Yeong’s nerves were on edge” while Gon was rowing in the competition, because it was an outdoor event. He finds these things stressful because Gon already came close to death once, and you never know if it’ll happen again

As soon as he hears a gunshot, Gon is immediately transported back to the night of the treason. Even if he doesn’t show it outwardly, it’s crossing his mind at the slightest trigger.

That time at the rowing competition is the first time that Gon has run away during an outdoor event. He runs away often and he knows he causes trouble for the Royal Guard, but this is the first time he’s done it at an event like that.

Gon can recognise Yeong just by his footsteps

Gon leaves his duties in the palace once or twice a year - either because he wants some personal time, or he’s in desperate need of it because he feels too overwhelmed by his regular life. I already assumed it was because of that, but to have it confirmed… fanfic nation, this is for you again

Gon was still thinking about the night of the treason when he got his Alice in Wonderland book out at the end of episode 1, and he could still vividly feel the sticky blood on the soles of his feet, and the feeling of something constricting around his neck. He felt like it could still happen again at any moment. Clearly, Lee Gon needs some better therapy than just going riding with Maximus.

Final thoughts: I’m very much enjoying seeing into the characters’ minds like this, especially Gon, since we’ve had a lot of him this chapter. I like how the book is able to show how often Gon is thinking about the night of the treason, making it and therefore his PTSD a much more present thing than in the show. It remains to be seen whether the currently hilarious Gon-worshipping is going to become annoying after a while, or whether or not seeing the characters’ inner thoughts is going to start annoying me when the main romance plot gets going. If it’s in the same tone as the Gon-worshipping… yeesh. That’ll be an experience.

My main thought so far? Not enough Yeong. There’s not as much Yeong as there was in the show, and there isn’t even much Yeong there. This book could be greatly improved with more Yeong. I suppose we’ll have to stick to fanfiction for that.

[drunkewok]

Tiger Inside

Chapter Ten

Stray Kids Mafia (ongoing)

Masterlist

Likes, reblogs and feedback always greatly appreciated

WC: 3.3k

Pairing: Lee Know x reader

Genre: Series, Enemies to lovers, non-idol AU, Mafia AU

Synopsis: After years spent away from the family, two strangers start frequenting your place of work, only to bring daunting news. Flung back into the world of the mafia, you try to adapt to your new normal and work alongside a team of eight skilled members to uncover a mystery and take down an unknown enemy.

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, drinking, swearing, violence, weapons

Disclaimer: Any portrayal of Stray Kids or any other idols in this story is purely fiction and do not at all reflect their own personalities or how I view them as a person, it is purely for the sake of the story.

Please do not copy or repost my work

The clicking of keys echoed through the room, Felix settled in front of his computer, trying to piece together the large puzzle. The setting sun outside casted a warm light throughout the room, complimenting the purple glow of the LED’s surrounding the top perimeter of his walls. Felix’s triple monitors lit his face from all angles as his eyes flicked between the screens, scanning over each code repeatedly looking for any clues he had missed initially.

I finally pulled my eyes from my phone screen, endless time spent scrolling away in the silence. Rolling over in the bed, I watched the numbers scrolling by on his monitors. Felix was deep in thought, I wasn’t even sure if he still remembered that I was in the room with him, too focused on the task before him. He leaned back in his chair, running his fingers through his hair with a huff before turning around to me with a strained smile.

“Any luck?” He shook his head defeated, unsure of how to make his next steps. He swiveled back to the screens, the click of his keys returning.

“I just keep running into the same firewalls. Everything is so jumbled.” His huff of frustration was evident as the numbers scrolled on the screen. As my eyes glued back to my phone, the screen lit up with a notification.

Incoming call - Jiho

I glanced up to Felix, now fully back engrossed in his mission. I quietly slid out of the room into the hallway, answering the call and holding the receiver up to my ear.

“Hey, what’s up?” A light chuckle came through the phone, Jiho’s smile peeking through his words.

“It feels good to be able to call you like this again” I smiled at the sound of my brother’s voice as I looked down to my feet, fingers playing with the hem of my shirt. Jiho hesitated before continuing. “I do think it’s time you take a visit to the family home though, I’d like to have a proper meeting with you.”

“I can see if one of the guys are willing to drive me there, when would you like me?” I leaned back against the doorframe, tucking my phone into my shoulder as I examined my nails, my face turning in disgust as I saw the peeling around my cuticles.

“Oh no, don’t worry about that. I can send for my driver to come get you. How does later tonight sound? Maybe 7 o’clock?” I hummed in acknowledgement, glancing at my watch to check the current time, I had some time to get myself cleaned up and ready. “Sounds good then, I’ll see you in a little bit.” As we both hung up and I slipped my head back into Felix’s room, catching him by surprise with my voice.

“Hey, Jiho wants to see me, so I’m gonna head out and go get ready.” Felix’s head tilted back in his chair, a soft grin across his cheeks.

“Oh alright, let boss man know I said hello” I nodded back to the poor, tired boy.

“Please don’t be at this for too long, try and get some sleep tonight, okay?” My smile was one of concern, knowing Felix probably wouldn’t be listening to my request.

I pulled my towel around myself as I stepped out of the shower, the cold air hitting my skin and sending goosebumps down my spine. I wasted no time throwing on a hoodie and leggings, trying to search for some source of warmth after my long hot shower. I made haste in throwing on some makeup before styling my hair, attempting to make myself put together and clean, knowing where my plans were going to take me tonight.

“She rises from the dead.” Seongho’s voice rang through the phone, holding a bit of surprise behind his words. I held the receiver to my ear as I settled myself on the front steps of the house, waiting for the car to come pick me up.

“Glad to hear from you too, you dork.” I grinned as I stared up to the sun setting in the clear sky. A sense of relaxation sinking over my body, freshly showered and everything started to feel like it was truly falling into place, that this all might actually work out. Getting to hear Seongho’s voice again after our quick interaction in the alley brought me comfort, a warm hug of familiarity.

“Anyways, what do I owe the absolute pleasure of for this call?”

“Care to meet me in Itaewon tonight? I’ve got something I need to handle closer into the city today and would love to meet up with you, I think a night of some drinks might do us some good.” I chewed the inside of my cheek, I was fully aware this might be a mistake on a monumental scale, and I would surely get reamed for this later. But at the same time, I felt like I had finally started to gain the trust of the members, and that this might actually work out in my favor.

“That sounds fantastic!” Seongho’s gigantic smile could be heard through the phone, his joy at the prospect of getting to go out with me for a night clearly overtaking him. “Just let me know when and where.”

“The usual place sound good? Oh, and do you still have that change of clothes I left at your place? I’m not particularly dressed for the club.” My heart felt warm, I was sure I could properly balance my two lives together. Under no means did I want to completely cut Seongho out of my life, and no matter what Chan and Minho said, I felt like if I at least stayed in contact with him, I could at least keep tabs on his safety.

“I sure do, I’ll bring them with me, just keep me updated!” Almost on cue, a blacked out vehicle started to pull into the driveway, coming to a stop before me.

“Will do, I gotta go though, I’ll talk to you later!” I hung up the phone as a gentleman stepped from the driver's seat. His ashy blonde hair settled down, framing each side of his face. He was larger in stature than I had expected, standing much taller than myself. He crossed around the vehicle, opening the back door for me and allowing me to slip in, shutting the door behind me. As he sat into the driver seat, he settled in and buckled his seat belt, putting the car into drive and back in motion. We sat in painful silence for a bit, before he finally spoke up.

“It’s an honor to finally meet the one and only Choi y/n. Heard a lot about you from Jiho.”

“So are you the family driver now?” I shuffled in my seat slightly, leaning forward to try and get closer to the mystery driver. “Could I know your name so I can properly address you?” His eyes met mine through the rearview mirror for a moment, hesitation before he spoke.

“Yunho, ma’am.” He kept his tone professional, crisp and emotionless.

“Well nice to meet you too Yunho, I hope my brother doesn’t treat you too harshly” Our eyes met again in the rearview as I gave him a slight wink. If I was to eventually take side by my brother, I knew at some point a ‘good cop bad cop’ dynamic was to take place, and I was fully aware what side I’d be on.

Pulling up at the family estate felt more foreign than I had expected. I was still quite familiar with the home, having helped my dad and brother move into it before leaving, but after ten years anything is inevitably going to drastically change. Yunho rounded the car, opening my door for me as I stepped out.

Walking up the front steps, I hesitated at the door, curious on if I should knock or not. Opting for the latter, I pushed the door open, slowly slipping inside.

“Knock knock!” I called out, watching Jiho exit the hallway at the top of the stairs, making his way down into the foyer with a smile.

“Welcome home, good to see you back here.” He stopped before me, a moment of silence before he startled himself into speaking again. “Do I need to show you around?” I waved him off with a shake of the head, still fully remembering the home. “Alright, well let’s head back to the office. There’s some things I wish to discuss with you.” I tried to hold myself strong as I followed Jiho through the halls, passing different staff members of the home. Their eyes fell on me in shock, clearly surprised by my presence. I held my shoulders back, remembering within these walls I was back to a position of power as a Choi, a feeling I had been unfamiliar of following me for so long.

The two of us took our place in our seats, him behind Father’s old desk, myself crossing my legs in the seat across from it. It felt surreal being back here, a place I had been so distant to. I thought about everything that may have taken place here over the years, the time wasted that I was unable to spend with Father before his passing.

“How have things been going with SKZ?” Jiho settled the things on the desk in front of him, placing the items in neat stacks and he tried to clear it all.

“Um yeah, I’ve actually been wanting to talk to you about that. Has Chan spoken to you yet?” Jiho’s brow raised, a perplexed look at what I could be hinting towards. “Well I take that as no, Felix has found some irregularities lately.” Jiho sat back in his seat, elbow resting on the arm rest and chin settled in hand. I cleared my throat before continuing. “Were you aware of chemical shipments coming in?” His eyes grew, surprised by my words.

“I can’t say I was, I don’t have a hand in any of the shipments besides what Chan tells me. Any clues as to who might be behind them?” I shook my head with a frown, my thumb digging into the palm of my hand.

“They’re still trying to get to the bottom of it, the codes have been difficult to work with.” Jiho hummed with a nod, leaning forward and scribbling something down on the paper in front of him. It felt different to see Jiho in work mode, his joyful demeanor now more serious and firm, a side of him I would now have to get more comfortable with being around.

“Did Dad know anything about this before his passing? Didn’t say anything to you about it?” Jiho cleared his throat as he shook his head, pressing his fingers across his lips, clearly still unsettled by the topic of our late father.

“No. He didn’t say anything.” He looked pained as he stared down at the desk, I couldn’t imagine how he was feeling, being by his side for so many years, working so closely with him. To now handling everything on his own, abruptly alone in the family’s business. I could understand why he wanted me home, it was a lot to take on by yourself in such a short span of time.

“How are you holding up? Since he left?” My concern poured out to him, I knew he was one to always hide his true feelings, keeping a strong face for those around him even when hurt. Jiho shrugged, trying to push off the emotions.

“He had a bad feeling it was coming, so we were slightly prepared.” His pen tapped on the desk, avoiding my gaze as he focused on the click.

“How did they even get past security? Didn’t you say it happened here?” I shuffled in my seat, growing nervous at the state of the safety of the home.

“We still aren’t quite sure, we’ve had a team investigating it.” Jiho’s avoidance at eye contact made me weary, I knew that he was fully aware it wasn’t safe to stay here, yet I also knew he would continue on like nothing happened. He had always been a stubborn one, set on his ways.

“So you might not even be safe here, why haven’t you left?” There was nothing I wanted more than to reach out and shake him, try and knock some sense into him. Jiho’s stupidity starting to drive my patience up the wall.

“I’ll be alright, I need to handle things here in his place. I can’t properly do so in hiding.” I rolled my eyes, it’d be a long argument on the matter, prolonged much further than just this conversation.

“Still, Jiho. You need to be more careful. You’ve got me in a safe house, why can’t you do the same for yourself? What if they come after us next?” I could hear my voice starting to raise, feeling a sense of idiocy in the air at his choice to stay at home.

“I can hold my own, y/n. Dad trained me well.” Jiho tried to keep me calm, sensing I was quickly about to get worked up. “Speaking of which, how’s your training going?” My lips pressed into a line, irritated at his abrupt change of the subject.

“It’s going well, SKZ are good at what they do.” I kept my response short, clearly seeing the unimportance of the topic when there were different matters to discuss.

“And Minho?” I scoffed as I tilted my head back, still not quite sure where I was landing with him, his hot and cold habits still bugging me.

“He’s been a tough one to crack, but he’s been teaching me well.” I tapped my finger against the armrest of the chair, not particularly wanting to continue on the topic of Lee Minho.

“Well keep up the hard work, hopefully soon you can join me here and we can be even stronger.” He continued to scribble something away on the paper, eyes not meeting mine as he spoke again. “Dad would be proud of you.” I rose, crossing to the wall as I scanned the books adorning the shelves. The room felt like a time capsule, housing all of Dad’s old belongings, items he had collected over the years. I yearned for just one last moment with him, the chance to have actually gotten to say goodbye, to hug him one last time.

I had been trying to ignore my grief for so long, telling myself that if I had thought about it too much, it would get in the way of my training. Yet now, face to face with his old office, I could feel the tears starting to well in my eyes. It was only Jiho and I left, and I would do everything in my power to keep it that way. I took a deep breath as I blinked away the sting in my eyes, fighting off the emotions flooding over me. It felt like my family was falling apart, and I would stop at nothing to prevent myself from losing Jiho as well.

He gave me a run down of the logistics of joining him, and what he’s had to take over since father’s passing. A lot of business jargon I couldn’t quite keep up with, my brain turning to mush as I tried to take mental note of it all. Jiho rose from his seat as he concluded his speech, his smile not quite reaching his eyes.

“Anyways, I just wanted to check in with you, and get you up to speed on the happenings since you’ve been gone. Expect me to keep in touch, I want updates on your training, and if Felix comes up with anything else.” I nodded as I made my way to the door, Jiho speaking one last time before my exit. “It’s good to have you back, y/n. Let’s make Mom and Dad proud.” I gave a pained smile to him as I opened the door, the weight of everything currently sitting heavy atop my shoulders.

I made my way back out to the front of the house, Yunho sitting in the car waiting for my arrival back. Everything was starting to feel so real, that this wasn’t some crazy prolonged dream of mine. It still felt weird that each day I wouldn’t wake up, have my cup of coffee, and get ready for my shift at Blossom. My old way of life was gone, quickly replaced by one of constant flips and turns.

Yunho quickly hopped from the car at noticing my approach, circling to open my door and allow me in once more. I leaned my head back in my seat, over analyzing my situation. Yunho turned the car on, slowly pulling from the driveway and onto the street. As we reached closer to the fork in the road that would depict our destination, I leaned forward, pointing to the left.

“Can we head toward Itaewon please? I have someone I need to meet with.” Yunho glanced back at me as we came to a stop sign, clearly unsure of how to respond.

“I was told to take you home ma’am…” I tried to hold my shoulders strong, an attempt to fake confidence as I tried to use my status to my advantage for the first time.

“I know, but I have some things to handle. Itaewon please.” He bit his cheek slightly as he nodded nervously, hesitant on listening. But finally he pulled the car to the left towards Itaewon. I sat back with a smile, victory in my lap.

I pulled my phone out, sending Seongho a text to let him know I was on my way. Thankfully my meeting with Jiho had taken up quite a bit of time, nearing us closer into the night now. I directed Yunho to my meeting spot with Seongho, pulling up a while later to him sat on a bench outside.

“Perfect, thank you so much Yunho! No need to get my door, I can handle it.” I quickly hopped from the car, eager to get out before things backfired on me. I waved him goodbye as I crossed to Seongho, wrapping him in a hug before he handed me the bag with my dress and shoes. “Fantastic. I’m gonna slip into a bathroom and get changed really quick.”

As I pulled my dress over my body, I quickly shuffled out of my tennis shoes and into my heels. Tossing the hoodie and shoes into the bag as I exited the stall and checked myself in the mirror. The small black, spaghetti strap dress was one I hadn’t had the opportunity to wear for a while. Instead it surely was collecting dust inside of Seongho’s apartment from the last time I had crashed there after a night of clubbing, then stealing his clothes in the morning before leaving. I had missed the dress, but at least it was convenient that it was in his possession at the current moment.

I stepped out of the bathroom and made my way back outside to Seongho, a smile stretching across his face as I appeared, eyeing over my figure.

“DAMN. There she is again, isn’t that a sight for sore eyes.” He clapped in joy as I slung the bag over my shoulder, my own smile adorning my cheeks. I beckoned him in the neon lit direction of our favorite club, his feet following mine in tow as his arm stretched across my shoulders.

“Com’on dork, let’s go have a good night like old times.”  

Next Chapter

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Oh my goodness! I feel so honored! Thank you for all the love and kindness!

To celebrate, send me a character and a quote from the list below, and I'll write a little blurb to go with it! Obviously I love writing for Roy Kent, but check out my Masterlist if you want to see anyone else I enjoy writing for (or you can suggest someone! No guarantees but hey, maybe I'll find someone new to write for!).

**EVENT CLOSED**

(Quote sources are linked)

“Okay, maybe I have a crush on you! So what?” 

“You haven’t changed at all.” 

“I can’t believe you remembered.” 

“You used to have feelings for me. Admit it.”

“I don’t want them. I want you.”

"You're so cool, it makes me hate you so much."

"I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you."

"Maybe I don't quite know what to say, but I'm here in your doorway."

"No, you idiot. I love you."

"I can't not love you. It's just not in me... crap, did I say that out loud?"

"I'm so scared that you'll never want to hold my hand again... and your hand is the only hand I want to hold."

"What makes you think I want to kiss you?"

“ just come over. “

“ i wouldn’t have called you if it wasn’t important. “

“ truth is that i’m so damn in love with you that i don’t know what to do with myself. “

“ may i have this dance? “

“ so… is this like, a thing now? “

“ do you think we should move in together? you spend all your time here anyway. “

❛ i can’t get enough of you. ❜

❛ i’m not jealous. ❜

❛ i won’t bite. unless you’re into that sort of thing. ❜

❛ what are you looking at? ❜

❛ are you wearing my shirt? ❜

❛ don’t mind me. just enjoying the view. ❜

"Are you joking?" "If I were you would be laughing."

“I could kiss you right now!” "You're very welcome to it."

“Why are you blinking like that with your eyes? Is everything ok?” “That was supposed to be a wink!”

“I like your costume, you look very cute.” “Are you making fun of me?”

“Aww, you’re blushing. I like that look on you.”

“Annoying you is what I’m best at.”

“You’re very lucky I love you.”

“Are you trying to flirt with me?” “Yes. Is it working?”

"You think I would be here if I didn't love you?"

"You have no idea just how much you mean to me."

"Goddamnit, I love you! Alright? Happy now? You figured out the big secret."

"You did this to me! You made me fall fucking head over heels for you."

"You're my bestfriend! We shouldn't- I shouldn't be feeling like this. Fuck."

i'm in my bed, you're in your bed. one of us is in the wrong place.

i fall for your smile every single time.

i don't want comfortable. i want passion.

“you know my mum likes you more than me, her own child” “can’t really blame her”

“my sister thinks that we’re dating”

I never had anyone to call my own.

What am I supposed to say when someone asks me if I still miss you?

"you’ve given me so many memories, i'd hate it if you become one"

"Does that mean we can finally kiss now?"

“you’re going on a date?” “well yeah..it’s not like we’re exclusive or anything right?” “yeah..yes ofc not” “yeah”

“we were never just friends, we aren’t just friends, and we will never be just friends”

“i always had a thing for you”

“could you..do that again?”

“how drunk were we?”

“you have NO IDEA how long i’ve wanted to do that” “you have no idea how long i’ve wanted you to do that”

"if we loved again, i swear i'd love you right."

"i wonder why we bother with love if it never lasts."

"cause i see sparks fly whenever you smile."

everything will be alright if you keep me next to you

i've been loving you for quite some time

i don't want to dance if i'm not dancing with you

they don’t know how much i miss you

“I’ve got a bit of a past.” “I don’t care.”

“See him? He’s mine. You know what that means? Back the hell up.”

“please don’t be in love with someone else. please don’t have somebody waiting on you”

“I can’t even listen to my favourite song without thinking about you!”

“He’s so perfect… and he doesn’t even know it.”

‘  we  were  something,  don’t  you  think  so  ?  ’

‘  if  my  wishes  came  true,  it  would  have  been  you.  ’

‘  i  don’t  quite  know  what  to  say,  but  i’m  here  in  your  doorway.  ’

‘ i  don’t  know  anything,  but  i  know  i  miss  you. "

[vaya-writes]

Everett the Vampire - History

Everett is applying for asylum at Larlimen House. The arbitor asks him about his history, as part of his entrance interview.

Divider by firefly-graphics. Content warnings for gang violence, human trafficking, off screen minor character deaths, and injury to protagonist. Events are in the past, detailed briefly in this short. 850 words.

Complete Masterlist - A03 - Larlimen Masterlist

Tell me about your history. 

Well... I was turned into a vampire in 1820. I was thirty-six years old. My sire was a vampire called Thadeus Roberts. He was... unpleasant.  

I spent my fledgling years in a coven that could be considered... normal, I suppose. It was not a joyous, healthy place, but few groups run by power hungry vampire lords are. 

I spent a few decades there before I left. There was no inciting incident, no straw that broke my back that I recall. I’d just had enough. 

I spent some years alone. They were... hard. Thadeus hadn’t properly educated us on the politics of vampirism. Covens are fiercely territorial, and nobody took well to solitary wanderers. Sourcing blood was a riskier affair. Nobody covered me, and I had no place to lay low if I attracted too much attention. I didn’t know anyone who could help me clean up any... mistakes I might have made.  

I was tracked by hunters. Driven away by other covens. I had a few too many close encounters and injuries.  

When I was approached by a vampire calling himself Coates and offered a place in his... coven, I’d grown quite desperate. There were warning signs. Things that were off. Both about Coates and the offer he gave me. But I was weary. Tired of running. Of having no safety net. No one to watch my back.  

I agreed.  

The group was run by a vampire called... Well it was run by Nikolai Ariti. At the time I didn’t know who he was. I’d heard Thadeus mention him. Knew the name, but without any of the context. Going into the group I didn’t know anything about... I didn’t know I was joining a crime family, to put it simply. I knew that Nikolai was a powerful lord, and that he was apparently willing to adopt loners like myself. It suited me fine. 

I caught on quickly.  

They had... We had contact with the human world. Though they only knew us as a particularly vicious street gang. The monster communities knew us better. There wasn’t a were who hadn’t heard of the family. The streets of Adderwharf were ours, and any who trespassed without good damn reason were swiftly punished.  

There were the expected shakedowns. Extortion. Protection rackets. A bit of blackmail. Roughing up folks who disrespected Nikolai. Smashing a few storefronts. It was easy. And I was hungry. Under Nikolai’s rule it was work or starve. I found myself following all manner of orders.  

Working with them long enough had earnt me a degree of trust. As the decades passed, they started putting me on other jobs. Unsavoury ones. Interrogation. Disposal. Enforcing. Assassinations and hits here and there. 

I... was in deep. And I didn’t know how to get out. So I just... became used to it. Became used to the wasted blood and the bits of gore and the aura of fear that I started to invoke... 

There was a breaking point this time. I discovered that Nikolai was trafficking humans. I don’t know if it had occurred the whole time I was there, or if it were a newer endeavour, but the moment I found out- the night I saw it for myself, I knew things had too far. 

Some of them were children.  

(Everett is silent for a few moments). 

I called in a tip with a hunter I’d had contact with. Told him about the humans and the children. Told him everything I could about Nikolai and his operation. To bring the cavalry, because Nikolai wouldn’t go down easily.  

I faked my death. And then I left. 

I went back to being a solitary wanderer. It wasn’t nearly as bad. I knew how to look after myself. Carved out my own piece of territory. Small. Manageable. Quiet. 

I had ten years of peace before there was an orchestrated attempt on my life.  

It wasn’t the back alley attempts of a lone hunter, or the aggression of a rival coven. It was deliberate. Serious. I... Well by the time I knew what was happening, Coates had shown himself. There were other initiates there. Some faces I knew. More that I didn’t.  

I don’t like thinking about what went down in that house. I’ll tell it if you wish, but suffice to say, I walked away – if seriously injured – while many of my former associates did not.  

I spent some time in hibernation. Two years, I think, convalescing. When I woke Nikolai was still looking for me. His coven is more established now. He’s evolved with the times, I’m sure. While I have not.  

It’s been twenty years since then. Twenty years of moving from place to place. Looking over my shoulder every day. Not staying anywhere long enough to make real friends. To find work. To find... meaning, I suppose.  

I need... I feel... weary. I heard of this place and I- well this is what you do, isn’t it? Offer asylum to monsters like myself?  

Perhaps my history is a little too bloody for such an establishment, but... I’d be remiss if I didn’t try. 

-

Continue

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Part 22 - Geralt

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 21 -- Part 23

Summary: The guys throw a New Years Eve party at 179th Crescent Street...

Warnings: Drugs (weed and alcohol), senslry issues.

Word count: 2.1k

A/N: Geralt is up! It's a shorter chapter than the other ones, because he didn't have a lot to say... I'm also happy to announce that all the NYE chapters are finished as of right this g'damn second! So: YAY ME! Enjoy!

Let me know what you think! 🥰

@deandoesthingstome @geralts-yenn @summersong69 @peaches1958 @fvckinghenrycavill @keanureevesisbae @livisss @sillyrabbit81 @ellethespaceunicorn @ylva-syverson @poledancingdinos

I’m barely aware of the things that are happening in the kitchen, going on auto-pilot, until Leon asks where Sherlock is. 

“In his room,” Mike replies, “he wouldn’t last five minutes tonight if he had to deal with all of this, too.” He’s not the only one. For starters, it’s not ideal for Mike, either. 

“We’ve got it from here,” I say. As far as I’m concerned, he’s done his part in setting up for tonight by getting the internet to work. My words come out harsher than intended. Fuck. I know he’s not mad - he’s Mike. It would take a lot more to upset him, and he knows as well as I do that I’ll be running on reserves, too, before the evening is over. 

Unlike Mike, I don’t envy Sherlock. Hiding from the fuss surrounding these preparations wouldn’t do me any good. I’d still hear everything, and I somehow find it easier to ignore a noise I can see the source of. My eyes involuntarily move to the little plastic bag on the table. At least I’ll be able to sleep. Sol follows my gaze, and her eyes go wide when she sees what I’m looking at. We’ve had a few long conversations - at above average volume - about the fact that I occasionally get stoned - or, as she’d rather call it; ‘my drug use’. The last of these arguments happened while she was holding a glass of wine. She didn’t appreciate my pointing out that alcohol is a hard drug. No one ever does. With time, she’s grown used to it, but she isn’t exactly comfortable with how open we are about it here. I still don’t understand the fuss. It’s not like we’re doing anything illegal. 

The hand on my back belongs to Sol. I don’t have to look to know that. I don’t even have to think about it. I just know. That knowledge doesn’t stop me from shaking it off nearly immediately. Usually, her touch calms me down, but not tonight - not right now, at least. It’s just another sensation to overwhelm me even further. There just isn’t anything she can do for me right now. When she looks at me, there’s a sliver of sadness in her eyes - a sadness I don’t immediately connect to my instinctive rejection of her touch, and with that, her intentions to comfort me. Until I do connect the dots, and end up feeling worse 

“It’s just a bit much,” I say, unsure of who I’m trying to convince I’m alright, her or myself. “I’ll be alright.” 

That last part isn’t a lie. No matter how exhausting this can be, it hasn’t killed me yet. At this point, after all this time, I think it’s safe to say that it won’t. 

When Sherlock steps into the kitchen with Elena, he looks just about as miserable as I probably do - and he hasn’t spent a second downstairs yet. Thanks to the noise downstairs, I couldn’t be completely sure about why they’re so late, but I can make an educated guess. Sol is still standing next to me. I know she feels bad because she can’t help me, which means it’s time for me to suck it up and at least try to have a good time here until she can help me. I take her hand and pull her along to where August and Sherlock are standing. At least I can reasonably count on them enjoying this nonsense as much - or as little - as I do. 

“Should I be glad Elena gets along with Anjelica so well?” Sherlock asks August while side-eyeing the girls and their animated conversation. The benefits of this party being so tremendously noisy is that everything turns to white noise nearly automatically. Normally, it would be a chore to tune out a conversation taking place so close to me, but right now, I don’t have to hear what the girls are talking about at all. Sol joins the conversation without too much effort, and I can see a faint smile on her lips when she sees me with the guys.

“Oh, we don’t get a say in these things.” I manage to very slightly startle August when I come up behind him. It’s never my goal, but always a nice bonus. He’s perceptive, tough to sneak up on, and his reflexes are insane. It’s what makes him a good boxer. A very good boxer. “I’m fairly sure we’re already doomed.”

Sherlock raises an eyebrow, clearly confused by my words. As much as I think we shouldn’t laugh or make fun of him because of it, his lack of experience can be quite endearing. “What do you mean?”

“I heard that they’re planning a girls night.” Gossiping isn’t something I enjoy doing, but I think the poor man deserves to know at least a little of what is about to hit him. August groans so softly I almost miss it. He’s damn right to, honestly. I like to think Sol isn’t the gossiping type, either, but I know better. When in Rome… 

I’ve accidentally overheard plenty of these conversations between women. They’re completely exhausting to listen to, and that’s only in part due to the fact that during a twenty-minute conversation, there’s maybe a total of three finished sentences. What continues to surprise me most, however, is the amount of detail these discussions contain. I know very few men who would be as specific. Sure, the jokes around the house can be… somewhat graphic, but they’re absolutely far less informative. Something I’ve always found striking about these conversations is that there doesn’t always seem to be a clear point to them besides purely the exchange of information - no problem to solve, no question to answer, nothing to gain from these talks other than curbing their annoyingly insatiable curiosity. Women. I’m sure I’ll never come to understand them. And I promise it’s not for lack of trying. 

“That usually means that all of them are going to be told every minute intimate detail of your relationship, so they can… I don’t know why they do it, just that they do.” August seems to be as lost on the reasons behind this interesting yet insufferable ritual. 

“How intimate?” Sherlock asks. As previously mentioned, I believe we shouldn’t make fun of his inexperience, which makes me hell-bent on controlling my face upon hearing the alarm and astonishment in Sherlock’s voice, and all the more glad that August does the smirking for me. 

“Yes, that intimate,” I answer, my voice significantly more strained than I had initially planned on, both from my efforts to keep my composure as well as my own mild terror at the thought of having my sex life painstakingly dissected by a group of girls. 

“We’re not looking forward to it, either,” August adds. 

“Not looking forward to what?” Elena asks as she wraps her arms around Sherlock. I can’t help but smile when I see it. They’re good together. 

“Nothing,” the three of us say at the same time. It’s suspicious to say the least, but I doubt we’ll hear much more of it. 

Something happens in the living room that we decide to ignore. Things settle down quickly, there’s no need for us to get involved in that. My head is pounding from the noise so badly that I barely notice Sherlock and Elena taking off. Good for them. Part of me wishes I could call it a day as well, but I can’t bear to spend time without Sol yet, and she’s still having a good time catching up with Anjelica. I know we won’t last much past midnight, so I just have to make it until then - a task that might just be made much easier by Ange’s discovery of what Mike has been up to in the living room. Solveig doesn’t even roll her eyes when she says it, either because it’s worse when I get high than when others do it, or because she realizes I could use a little peace and quiet. 

The cold and fresh air help tremendously, and although the windows are hardly enough of a barrier to completely block the sounds from inside the house, they drown out enough to make it more manageable. Sol stays close, which I appreciate now that I’m not ambushed by a hundred sensations per second. She’s not cold - she’s used to harsher winters than the ones we get here. It doesn’t stop her nose, hands or feet from freezing. It just doesn’t bother her. Bothers me, though. It’s like sharing a bed with an icicle. 

“Did you guys step outside when you saw me leave the living room?” Mike asks. August, Anjelica and I shrug - a clear admission of guilt. We know him a little. If one of us had so much as for a second suspected that our intended leeching would piss him off, we would have stayed inside. But it’s Mike. He grumbles something semi-annoyed while handing a joint to Dani and sits down to get to work on another one. 

“Thanks, Mikey.” It’s always Ange. Mikey and Anjelica have something in common I can’t put my finger on, exactly. A certain way of understanding each other that’s very difficult to explain. Something so innately platonic that even August isn’t threatened by it - which is quite rare. She sounds tired, I notice, and she does a very good job of not looking the part. Anjelica thrives around people. Pressure. Pain. Although I completely understand why Sy questions the nature of Ange and August’s relationship, I  never did. It makes perfect sense, it always has. In a way, they remind me of me and Solveig, though we have a more flexible dynamic. For a short moment, my thoughts jump to Sherlock. He had the same control issues we do. August and I. Part of me wonders if his preferences will turn out anything like ours, and I briefly wish I could be a fly on the wall during that girls night… I dismiss the thought instantly. Gossip. Despicable habit. 

Mike hands me a joint, which I take from him gratefully. If I can just get my thoughts to calm down, the noise may become manageable enough to sleep later. I’m only vaguely aware of the conversation about the unrest in the living room earlier. There seems to be quite a lot of guilt there that Mike can’t seem to shake. It’s understandable, but I feel it isn’t necessary. Danielle seems to understand what he’s like better than anyone I’ve ever met - including us, and we’ve been living with him for a year and a half at this point. I hope they make it. 

The six of us barely make it twenty minutes past midnight before we decide to call it quits. Mike makes a break for the stairs, leaving Dani with me and Sol. When we step into the hallway, Mike is already halfway up the stairs. 

“Where is he?” It’s tough to be sure from the side, but it looks like Peter, Marshall’s best friend. “Mike, I swear, get the fuck out of my way.”

I can’t say I appreciate the amount of drama I’m getting caught up in tonight. Charles - of all people, ironically - would likely suggest we leave these things to the girls, because they’re better at it than we are. After tonight, I am inclined to believe that both sexist and - as it turns out - a lie. Men are more than capable of causing a scene. Sol is standing next to me, Dani is right in front of me. I can see August, but not Anjelica. I’ll just have to trust that she’s okay. Knowing her, that shouldn’t be too much of a problem. I hear footsteps on the stairs that belong to Marshall - clearly the person Peter is looking for to begin with. Despite the alcohol and weed - maybe even due to them - I’m alert. Tense. This probably isn’t a fight I want to get caught up in. Marshall wouldn’t want any of us to, anyway. 

“Peter, leave him alone.” Mike tries to stop Marshall as he walks down the stairs, stubbornly staying exactly where he is. It’s clear he trusts Peter about as far as he can throw him right now. We’ve all met him multiple times, and he’s a good guy, but we’ve never seen him angry. And those hockey guys can fight… “Mike, it’s okay. He’s after me, not looking for trouble. It’s cool, back off.” 

[tessiete]

One Hell of a Fanfic

So, completely unbeknownst to me, the podcast One Hell of a Fanfic took the time to read and discuss my fic The Eternal Spring. It’s an older fic – I think my first real foray into SW as an author – and it shows. But the wonderful hosts, Steph and Lauren, found it, read it, and talked about it here.

This new podcast focuses on SW fic exclusively, and is an absolute delight to listen to. As a reader, it gives you insight into the experience of reading the story and introduces you to work you might have missed. And as an author…wow.

It’s like when someone leaves you an essay in your comment section. Chef’s kiss.

Anyway, because I love to talk about process and intent, and because I love to talk about stories, and because while listening to this episode I had so many moments of “YES BUT DID YOU SEE THE BIT WHERE I –” I’ve decided to write up a little response going into detail about what Lauren and Steph discovered while reading The Eternal Spring.

I’ll try and organise it, too, by sort of keeping to the five categories they break their episodes into. So here goes:

CANON

Right off the bat, this section made me question everything about myself, my writing, and what on earth I was doing. Both Lauren and Steph mentioned how incredibly deep the lore is, how many Easter Eggs I included, and how I blended canon, Legends, and fanon into a unique lore of its own.

This is wild to me because I’d never thought of that.

Listen, I’ve got a very complicated relationship with canon. I treat it as equal to Legends, and fanon. To my mind, it’s no better, no more real, no more accurate than Legends is, or even fanon. In fact, I’m of the opinion that fanon occasionally has the absolute best take on a character.

For instance, Obi-Wan having precognitive dreams. Sorry, that’s real to me. That’s true. 

And you’ll see this come up as a given in my work all the time. I hardly even think about it anymore. So that’s one way in which these different sources are pulled together – unconsciously.

However, I won’t deny there was conscious reference to two fan works specifically. Those being Tatooine Slave Culture (created by fialleril), and more significantly the Lineage series (Jedi Apprentice rewrites by ruth baulding). I am a huge Jedi Apprentice fan, and a huge ruth baulding fan. I know JA especially has its haters, but I love it (for reasons I will not go into here for the sake of HA! brevity).

I know TSC especially has faced controversy in the past for appropriation and insensitivity, though admittedly, I was unaware of that at the time of writing this story. I had just entered the fandom much like a bull enters a china shop. I made a lot of missteps. That said, I don’t think I use TSC culture with any significant overstep in this story (as it is largely only referenced by people outside of the culture), and so while I probably wouldn’t do it again, I don’t feel it’s detrimental in this case.

Ruth Baulding, however, is perfect. While the Lineage series is extremely whump-heavy (heads up should you go looking), there is one story in particular where Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon visit The Stewardship of Terajon (StewJon) and encounter Obi-Wan’s birth family. While Qui-Gon handles it with a quiet and permissive grace, Obi-Wan is reflexively defensive and hostile, especially when he finds out that SPOILERS his family is on the opposite side of the conflict. They do no support the Republic, while Obi-Wan has dedicated his life to it. Qui-Gon recognises that their reasons are legitimate and ideologies are not so black and white as good and evil. Obi-Wan, however, cannot reconcile the idea that his family are so-called traitors. They end up finding an uneasy peace where Obi-Wan tells his parents that Qui-Gon is and has always been a father to him, and Obi-Wan’s mother makes him promise that if he ever needs help he will ask her for it.

I really wanted to write a story where he does that.

Partly because I wanted to depict an Obi-Wan who had grown into a maturity that could handle shades of grey, especially in politics, and partly because this story is so much about parents and their children, absence and presence and legacy, that I felt Ue, his mother, needed to be there for it.

Side note: I will forever cling to ruth baulding's conjecture that Obi-Wan is named for the obiwan flowers that grow on Stewjon. IRL our obiwan flowers look similar to how she describes them!

As for Qui-Gon and his love of plants – I don’t know.

I think this is a blend of fanon and Legends that I’ve once again just taken on board as fact, and only with this podcast am I compelled to examine it.

Though recently contradicted by LFL canon (In CG’s Master&Apprentice), fanon loooooong held that Obi-Wan was the one with a connection to prophecy and Qui-Gon was Master of Living in the Moment. I really love the tension this creates between them, and that’s why I keep it.

To that end, Qui-Gon is very frequently depicted in fanon as being Super Into Plants. He’s like, the Order’s #1 Plant Dad. His rooms are full of plants, and he is deeply connected to the Living Force.

In the Jedi Apprentice novels, Obi-Wan is almost sent to live as a farmer in the AgriCorps, and he is convinced he’d be a terrible farmer.

I kind of connected these two dots to suggest that much as Obi-Wan still ends up on Tatooine, he also still ends up a farmer. Qui-Gon taught him the horticulture he was so afraid of finding on Bandomeer, and Tatooine sees him eventually relying on those skills for survival. 

This ties into one of the things I wanted to grapple with in this fic. Free will vs. Destiny. I think, ultimately, this story’s perspective on it is that destiny = destination. You are always going to the same place. But the journey itself is free will. How you get there, which path you take, and what you learn from it – that’s all on you. 

And if we believe that it’s not about the destination, but the journey, then isn’t that the same as free will after all?

Anyway. 

That said, Steph and Lauren point out several times that this complex mingling of lore leads to much confusion AND that if you’re not acquainted with even something as (to me) ubiquitous as The Clone Wars, then much of it won’t land.

On the one hand, this is intentional. I love Easter Eggs, but I’m staunchly of the opinion that Easter Eggs aren’t meant to be found by everyone. They’re for the dedicated readers, the hyperfixaters, the deep-divers, the re-readers. I think Easter Eggs aren’t PointingLeos so much as they are sly winks, and things that make returning to a story rewarding. Every time you come back, you find something new. They’re meant to increase the longevity of novelty. And that’s how I try to use them.

THAT SAID I 100% TOOK IT FOR GRANTED THAT EVERYONE HAS THE SAME KNOWLEDGE BASE AS I DO.

In retrospect, that’s ridiculous. This is what I mean by saying they made me question my whole approach to fic. I didn’t think that TCW was a deep-cut. I didn’t think that Siri Tachi and her mandrangea beans were unknown, or that Obi-Wan loving muja fruit was obscure.

And that’s on me. That’s my bad. Because objectively, Lauren and Steph are absolutely right. That is so much information to expect a reader to have as a baseline, and dramatically decreases the size of the demographic I’m reaching.

Do I regret it? ….nnnooooo?

But I will absolutely be more mindful of that in the future. I think that’s a hugely important lesson for me to take from this. It’s not just a “My perspective isn’t everyone’s perspective” but a “Not everyone has been hyperfixating on the exact shade of orange in a Tatooine sunset since they were five, please provide some context thank you”.

EXPANDING THE LORE

Okay, I really wanted to address this, because in a previous episode, Lauren and Steph discuss World Without End by disasterisms. Specifically, they mention their love of mythology and how interesting it is that WWE is a retelling of the Hades/Persephone story.

And it had me frantically raising my hand like a pick-me!

So, fun fact, The Eternal Spring is also based on a Greek myth. Specifically, the myth of Psyche and Eros. In the original story, Psyche marries Eros but swears never to look on his face. She can’t deal with the curiosity however, and one night as he’s sleeping, she holds her torch over his head to get a look. He’s beautiful. But oil from her lamp drips onto him and he wakes, fleeing until she atones for her crime by completing a series of Impossible Tasks.

I love Impossible Tasks.

And more, I loooove hanging my stories on the preexisting structures of other works.

The Forlorn Queen is a long-form poem I wrote that is meant to be a Nabooian version of Psyche and Eros. In it, the unnamed Queen is assigned four Impossible Tasks that all correlate to the tasks of Psyche.

Sort seeds from sand

Retrieve the Golden Fleece

Collect water from a sacred spring

Steal the Beauty of Perspephone 

In the fic, these are played out by Padme in variously metaphorical ways. In the first, she literally has to sort the seeds from the sand after a sandstorm destroys their burgeoning garden. But more than re-enacting this myth, each task is meant to explore some emotional challenge in how she copes and reconciles her grief.

Sorting seeds from sand is a metaphor for her sorting out her priorities. What is alive still? What is worth saving? How closely she has to examine the sand, how long it takes, how tedious it is – this is all a reflection of her looking at her own life, her own struggles, and sorting out what she needs vs. what she wants.

Likewise, she retrieves the Golden Fleece/Golden Scale (saves Boil from the chip and his own lack of purpose, his transformation symbolised by him painting his armour [his scales] gold and taking on Padme’s commission, which is also the Mandalorian colour for vengeance). By sending Boil after Obi-Wan she is bringing water to the goddess (relief to Obi-Wan). And finally, the task that Psyche fails is the one Padme fails, also – at least, she cannot do it alone. This is about the acceptance of death and the loss of youth. This is Padme not joining the rebellion, and Obi-Wan reconciling with Qui-Gon.

Greek myths don’t directly correspond with symbolism as we understand it today, so yeah, I had to do a bit of research and even more extrapolation to get these tasks to mean more than simply Things To Accomplish, but that was always the intent. This story was always a myth – just as Revenge of the Sith (esp. As written by Matthew Stover) is explicitly Greek in its framing as a tragedy.

WHEW! Onto the fun stuff!

CHARACTERS

The thing that struck me most here was Lauren and Steph’s breakdown of small action vs. big action, and how they both agreed that it was sometimes difficult to follow and occasionally off-putting. Small action is the emotional conflicts deeply examined, while big action is like, the pew-pews.

They are totally correct in their assessment.

I could say that I think this is something that the OT and PT especially do. A New Hope, especially, spends what modern audiences would consider a loooong time without any significant Big Action, and the PT really struggles with pacing. It’s something sort of inherent to SW, and I really wanted this fic to feel like SW. It wasn’t entirely unintentional on my part to give you a lot of small action and then suddenly drop in big action…

Buuuuuuut it wasn’t entirely intentional, either.

You know, in writing this fic, I was constantly, constantly afraid it was incredibly boring. You can see it in my ANs. The small action is what I live for, but I was scared no one would want to read it if I stayed there.

So I think this is honestly more a reflection of my own insecurity than it is a deliberate reflection of Star Wars itself.

Again, a lesson. And something to keep in mind!

OMG ALL THAT NONSENSE! If you’re still here, well, I got more!

FAVOURITE SCENES

Qui’s ghost

I am so happy Lauren loved this scene. This was the scene that I first envisioned, this was the scene that I was always writing towards, this scene, to me, is what Star Wars is all about.

And yes, I am actually George Lucas.

For more wild speculations of mine that have since been canonized by LFL please see Only Hope (including, weirdly, Mandalorians being super into culture soups…so…HMU Kathleen!)

But yeah, I love Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan. When I was writing this story I was deep into the QuiObi fandom, and I just really loved any and every expression of love and intimacy between them (platonic or otherwise).

Again going back to Legends, for me, I always loved the idea that Obi-Wan is frequently driven by his desire to be good for Qui-Gon. A good padawan, a good knight, a good Jedi. A good person. In JA he has to beg to be his padawan, and never really seems to feel like he measures up to Qui-Gon’s expectations. He wasn’t wanted and he worries that Qui-Gon’s disinterest in him never changed.

To me, it’s very obvious that Qui-Gon does want him. Very early on. But to a young teen, and someone so deeply insecure as Obi-Wan, it’s hard to see. 

I LOVE THAT TENSION.

And I felt Obi-Wan really needed his dad to give him a hug at the end of it all.

The idea that Qui-Gon has always been with Obi-Wan is…I mean, I think that’s just intrinsic to their story. It’s weird because I can see how it looks like I “Just Knew” but I think everyone knew because it’s sort of the inevitable conclusion to their journey together. Qui-Gon literally defies death in order to be with Obi-Wan. I can’t think of any greater expression of love and devotion than that…and yet, Obi-Wan still needs it spelled out for him.

ANYWAY I COULD TALK ABOUT THEM ALL DAY I LOVE THEM SO MUCH. I’m very happy it made you two cry.

KORKIE IS A KENOBI

Look, I’m not even being ironic about it anymore. I love Korkie Kenobi. I believe in Korkie Kenobi. Korkie Kenobi is the best, most under-utilised, over-disparaged, misunderstood storyline that Star Wars never took.

As I briefly mentioned before, this story is really about parents and their kids. It was not an indulgence but an acute necessity that Korkie be a Kenobi in this fic. I’m not saying that because I love the theory (though I do), but because thematically it is imperative that Obi-Wan sees himself as a son, a brother, and a father. That he understand he is part of a family of blood, of duty, of choice, of circumstance. That he knows he is connected to the Force, to the world, and to the people around him. That we all are. That we owe ourselves to the people around us. That nothing ends, and everything continues. 

That absence is not oblivion. 

And Korkie specifically fits into that theme in the way he and Obi-Wan are connected despite Obi-Wan’s own ignorance. He is biologically present (by blood), he is spiritually present (in Korkie’s Force sensitivity), and he is emotionally present (in the way Korkie was raised watching him, being inspired by him, holding him up as a model of bravery and integrity – despite Obi-Wan not physically being there to parent him, he still was formative in Korkie’s emotional development and, to me, that’s massively important).

I really, really dislike the notion that Korkie being Obi-Wan’s son inherently frames Obi-Wan as a neglectful and dead-beat parent. What a small way to look at someone’s impact on others. What a cruel way to frame purpose, duty, and obligation. What a sexist way to ignore Satine’s importance and capability. What a mean way to dismiss the experiences of so many readers and people who grew up in single-parent homes for whatever reason.

My mum works in medicine. She missed a lot of school concerts, a lot of bedtimes, a lot of birthdays because she was SAVING LIVES. My dad explained this to me as a small child, and even as a small child, I understood. I got it. Kids aren’t dumb, and I knew a lot of kids in similar situations – we’re not traumatised.

Never mind the kids who had a parent die, or deployed, or transferred. It’s hard to be a parent, and yes, some parents are uninterested and dead-beats. But that neglect is not defined by their absence.

PERSONAL PET PEEVE EXORCISED THROUGH KORKIE

I tried to really connect things here by having Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan mirror Obi-Wan and Korkie. Just as Obi-Wan was simultaneously present and absent in Korkie’s life, so too is Qui-Gon present and absent in Obi-Wan’s.

There’s a little moment where Obi-Wan’s mother, Ue, reassures Korkie that he’s wanted. Obi-Wan will not reject him. She tells him, “You are not a consequence, or a punishment, aso-aso,” she murmurs. “And I don't see that any parent could hold you any less than the very best of all beloved things.”

Then, at the end of the story, Qui-Gon uses the same words telling Obi-Wan, “Never think, my dearest Ben, that you are anything less than best beloved of my very heart.”

(“Best Beloved” btw is very much stolen from Kipling)

As for him taking the Kenobi name – hey man, we need more Kenobis.

But I love the bravery it takes because, as the hosts mention, it puts a big target on his back in a galaxy where the most powerful Force user is constantly on the look out for Kenobi.

And, in fact, if you’re curious, I explored the possibility of Vader finding Korkie first here: Or Else I Shall Be Lost

HERE there was also another lesson: 

Steph and Lauren discussed the revelation of Korkie’s Force Sensitivity, and how it was confusing until the very end when I explicitly commented on it.

I TOTALLY DIDN’T REALIZE THIS WAS CONFUSING because mostly, I didn’t realise that I was writing a mystery.

BUT I WAS! Holy heck! I’m honestly surprised. Another like, surprising reframing of my own intentions and process. Because looking back, they’re totally right.

Kind of in line with using lore I like without explanation or justification, I also like referencing things I as the author know to be true but without actually telling the audience. In this case, I used wild coincidence as a thin cover for Force sensitivity, not revealing that had been intentional until the end.

Of course, in my head I was like, “Ha! Another clue! They’ll be putting this puzzle together by now” without accounting for the fact that I never told anyone there was a puzzle to begin with.

Not sure how I’ll address that in future fic, but it’s…it’s really something to think about. Is it a mystery if you don’t tell your audience something needs to be investigated? 

NUMA REFERENCE

I honestly can’t remember, but I think Kano is canon….or Legends…and was there on Ryloth. I love using clones that make sense, even if they’re lesser known. It makes me feel less like someone’s got plot armour and more that they were lucky which was also why I used Boil. I know, having been in fandom for ages now, that fandom would’ve preferred Cody be the clone to find Padme on Tatooine and go after Obi-Wan, but like…

Look, I’m super proud that fandom has made Cody the character he is, but canonically, most of that doesn’t exist.

Canonically, the clones assigned to cover Obi-Wan’s back are Waxer and Boil.

And I think Waxer dies, right? So the only clone that made sense to me, as a fandom newbie, was Boil. It had to be Boil.

And his relationship with Numa cemented that. Because Numa is – in a way – his daughter. The same way Leia is. She is the inheritor of whatever is left after the war. Numa lives, but what of Ryloth? Did she survive the rest?

I think that moment is the one, uncomplicated victory that Boil looks back on to ground himself. He can look at Ryloth and think “We did the right thing” because after that, everything gets complicated. And that’s the thing that convinces Kano to help them, also. The desire to believe they’ve done good. Simple, uncomplicated good.

QUESTIONS

Okay, I really wanted to address this next part – Lauren and Steph were so unconvinced that Padme would stay on Tatooine and not join the Rebellion.

You guys, I was SCREAMING!

And again, they weren’t wrong. I can totally see how they came to that conclusion, how Padme’s choice felt OOC and wrong, and how it does contradict everything we know of her from canon.

And while I have no intention of changing their interpretations of canon, or of my fic I sooooo want to discuss it from my POV. And you know what, again – my bad for not articulating it in a clear enough way. I would probably rewrite this scene if I were to do it again.

Because that contradiction is the point.

This isn’t what Padme would choose. Like she says, she thinks about it. She thinks about going to Bail. That’s her first thought.

But, this fic is meant to show why she can’t.

It’s not that the destination has changed, but she has.

Technically, this fic takes place over the course of a full year. It’s vaguely charted in the growth of the twins (again, tess, you can’t just assume everyone knows baby milestones). At the beginning, Padme is in a state of shock. And so is Obi-Wan…

Let’s get into the kiss.

In a fit of just, complete upset, Padme slaps Obi-Wan. And then she kisses him. She says she hates him. And he does nothing.

This takes place about thhhhhreeeeeeeee??? Months into their time on Tatooine, and for this whole time, Obi-Wan has really done nothing but exist on a cursory, polite surface level. He smiles because it is expected. He farms because he must. He wakes up and functions but he says absolutely nothing about what they’ve gone through.

And Padme cannot stand it anymore.

She feels like she’s on her own. And she tries to make him react. In this, I really wanted to show just how well suited Anakin and Padme were to each other. She likes Obi-Wan. She’s glad he’s with her, but she needs to see him hurt. Because she hurts.  She absolutely takes it WAY TOO FAR.

Obi-Wan turns inward in his pain. Padme explodes outward.

Well, she wants to.

But she CAN’T. Because she has the twins.

Obi-Wan gets to be an automaton, but Padme has to be a mother. She has to engage with Beru and Owen. She has to negotiate at the market. She has to feed, and clothe, and raise her children. She has to BE PRESENT ALL THE TIME. She doesn’t get to be numb.

Is it a comment on the division of emotional labour between men and women? Yyyyyes? But not in a derogatory way. Obi-Wan went through the same thing when Anakin was little and Qui-Gon died, but the difference is this time, Obi-Wan doesn’t have the purpose Padme has. She has the twins. Obi-Wan feels he is entirely superfluous.

This is all related to those messy emotions Lauren and Steph mentioned and which I really love to write. People – even good people – can be ugly. I love it. I truly believe there are no bad emotions, no bad traits. Everything evolved to keep you alive, to protect you. Obi-Wan protects himself with little cruelties. Padme lashes out.

I’m so happy the I hate you moment hit! I thought it was so sick. Had to do it. 

And emotions are also inconsistent, even if motivation or ideology remains stable. So like, the part where Padme looks at Obi-Wan sleeping and is very empathetic – she’s still centering herself. She’s looking at him from the perspective of a mother, and imagining his mother. She is kind and generous in her assessment of him and his suffering here, and at other times, but…

She’s very conscious of it. Obi-Wan is vulnerable in sleep. It’s easy to be kind then. And later, she has all of Anakin’s insight into Obi-Wan, and a lot more patience than Anakin ever had. She understands how Obi-Wan copes. She lets him do what he needs to.

But MONTHS pass. And she’s so tired of carrying it all. She runs out of patience.

Anyway. 

Anakin betrays them. And Padme can do nothing.

Obi-Wan leaves. And Padme can do nothing.

Padme is so frequently stripped of agency by circumstance, and you’re right – in canon, she fights that! She leaps into the fray and takes control.

But she has twins now. Her purpose, but also her burden.

She can’t join the Rebellion. Where would they go? How would they live? Who would take care of Luke and Leia?

If they go to Alderaan, they put a huge target on Bail and intense scrutiny on the Rebellion. They also bring themselves into direct contact with the Empire. If Vader got even a hint that Padme lived he would not stop until she was in his custody. If he knew he had kids? If he knew they were with Obi-Wan? It’s way too dangerous. They are a huge liability. She is a huge liability.

As Luke says, if there’s a bright spot in the galaxy then Tatooine is the place that’s furthest from it.

Tatooine is SAFE. Vader won’t go there, and the Empire doesn’t care about it. Is it run by the Hutts? Yeah. But better Hutts than the Empire, especially because the Hutts don’t care about the little people living day to day. Padme can give the kids a quiet, boring life on Tatooine. She can keep them safe.

And as she sorted the seeds from the sand in chapter one, THAT is her priority. Her kids. They have no one else, and furthermore, if their existence were known they would be targeted, captured, and killed – or worse. She wants to join the Rebellion. She would. But she can’t because she needs to keep Luke and Leia safe.

While Obi-Wan’s reason for staying on Tatooine is a passing on of legacy, and setting down the burden of war (he’s done his time), Padme’s reason for staying is a reassessment of her priorities. Hers is a maturation of responsibility. Sometimes, we can’t do what we want. It sucks. But we’re adults.

“Living in Squalor” though made me LAAAAAAUGH! You’re so right. 

Oh my gosh, she’s tandem carrying! That’s the term. Hahahaha, yeah, poor girl. Lots of tandem carrying, but once Obi-Wan’s back, they’re basically a two-parent household. Plus, the fic sees them building that community. There’s Korkie, there’s Boil, there’s Beru and Owen. Padme screams at Obi-Wan that she’s alone, but by the end she’s not.

And like, in terms of practicality, I think Owen? Obi-Wan? I think there’s mention of them “digging out the cellar”. The idea is that more than half the house is buried, but once they dig out the cellar and reinforce the walls down there, there’s a significant chunk of living space they can utitilise (ie. at least one, if not two bedrooms underground where it’s cooler like we see in the Lars house in ANH).

But yeah, babies in the haffa chest for now!

QUAINT CABIN NOT SQUALOR! 

Lastly, Owen and Beru! Ahahahahaha, I’m so happy Lauren and Steph were charmed by them. And I love their insight on the inversion of protection. In canon, Obi-Wan is there protecting them, but in Eternal Spring, the Lars’ are very much protecting Obi-Wan (and Padme). I thought that was really insightful. God, I love clever readers!

I just quickly wanted to touch on Owen’s grudge against Obi-Wan because yeah, it’s totally silly. I imagine Owen as being very typically masculine, and Tatooine culture being pretty big into gender-roles, though the expression of those roles may not fall directly in line with gender presentation (but that’s another topic).

Anyway, Owen is a dude’s dude. A guy’s guy. You know - a Man™. 

And Obi-Wan is………SO SOFT.

This dude comes into Owen’s house with Trauma. He’s soft-spoken, and polite. He doesn’t speak much, and when he does it’s with a cut-glass accent that sounds so out of place. He listens without interrupting, he doesn’t make ribald jokes. 

And he’s got magic powers.

There are ten thousand Jedi in the entire galaxy. Owen met Anakin once, and he went off the deep end.

Obi-Wan freaks him out. He’s so weird. He is not the kind of person Owen knows how to deal with, and he’s certainly not the kind of guy Owen can relate to. And Beru says to be gentle. Gentle? On Tatooine?

As we see when he’s coaching Padme, Owen doesn’t believe that gentleness or mercy have any place out here. 

The secret is, Owen’s SUPER SOFT underneath. And Beru knows this. Hence why she keeps encouraging Owen to take care of Obi-Wan, to bring him out to mingle with other people. Beru sees that Obi-Wan is collapsing in on himself, and is trying to get Owen to draw him out.

When he nearly dies, Owen is more angry that they almost died. Not at Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan is just a convenient punching bag because he doesn’t punch back. If he did, Owen would know how to respond – he’d buy him a drink, and shake his hand.

I think, underneath, Owen really likes Obi-Wan (and we see this at the end when he’s jealous that Obi-Wan went to visit his blood brother, AtasOWEN – an alternate Owen, and also a reference to the old Legends lore that Owen Lars was Kenobi’s half-brother). Owen wants to be Obi-Wan’s family, and he gives him the gift of brotherhood (he tells the whole town that they’re related to protect him, yes, but also because he’s claiming that title). It’s very much one of those “Hey! No one gets to pick on my idiot brother, except me!”

The same way he is gruff and blunt to Luke in ANH, Owen is the same way with Obi-Wan. “Too much of his father in him.” Too much of Anakin in everyone for Owen’s taste. 

But that, again, is on the author to make clear! All these lessons. I’m so thankful that I had this opportunity to listen to such a generous and in-depth analysis of my fic. It’s been fun, informative, and genuinely really instructive in the most supportive and uplifting way.

I highly recommend everyone check out One Hell of a Fanfic here, or on Spotify. Thank you so much for reading my fic, and until next time…

May the Force be with you!

[salty-savanah]

Shitty Poetry

Dependent Differences

Its almost funny the way I can watch the distaste wash over your features while mine stay the same.

I can physically see you racking your mind on why I’m no longer there. The burnt of it, the cleaner, the maid, the woman, the giver.

The giving tree if you will do be the poetic kindness.

The person that you became dependent on to take the heavy load, and for what? The need to not have bruised shoulders and calloused hands like mine?

Now I am resolved. I am content and aware, and that’s one of the things I know you can’t fucking stand.

How I can look at you and your damaged bullshit and see right through it.

I can pinpoint the pain, source, cause, and continuous contribution to hereditary patterns and unjustified objectivity, while you can’t even see the shadow flick of mine.

My question is how in the fuck is that my fault?

The fact you never put in the effort to analyze my every move.

How I took my pain, hatred, and resolve turned it into a salve to rub in my wounds with the power of gunpowder infused. Don’t blame me for the lengths of my contentment.

It was a mere part of your life the distaste you may view yourself, but it was my entire life.

I had to memorize the sound of your footsteps, what time you got home at, how quickly I needed to clean the house, bathe my siblings, eat my dinner, speak, move, breathe, blink.

All of it, I did in hopes of pleasing someone who only viewed me as the necessity.

The regular, the ordinary, the incapable, the mentally deficient.

The person made from your womb just to clean up the messes of the others you pour out.

Now I sit here with you there and I am everything.

I am everything to myself and my tribe of chosen brothers and sisters.

I have thrown my soul into a cast iron fucking sleeve and built my birthday suit around it, can’t you see?

I’m fucking shimmering.

This is my brotherhood. I’ve claimed it long ago, can’t you see?

How you never even had your venom in me in the first place, now all I have are scars of so called retribution.

I’ve made my peace, I’ve spoken my guilt, I’ve demolished my problems with a hand of Odin and accepted myself with the wrath and beauty of Hel.

You, what have you done in comparison to me?

You have taken, eaten, beaten, tormented, and abused little girls as a little girl yourself and again for what? The feeling of satisfaction of making something smaller than you fucking cower?

I do not need your apology, I can see how easy it left your tongue, a manufactured script you probably chanted to yourself to convince yourself of the truth.

No, now I want your recognition. Look at these fucking scars, look down at how deep they go and how they match your manicure of encrusted jewels.

You wouldn’t be able to handle the things I’d have to say, compared to what you’ve already said do you really think I wasn’t rehearsing?

Now do you see the difference?

I am not you, I changed for the better, for the yearning of being good. For being fucking great.

You changed in spite of me. How malicious did you need to be back then to do the things you did?

I was a baby. I came from your own life force, I breathed your air, my spirit was conjured in you generations before my birth, so why?

Why couldn’t we have both changed for the better?

Now we both sit here, racking our minds on why we actually hate each other, making up reasons and sling shooting them at each other just to find the next malicious reason.

But I never hated you.

I like to think you never hated me.

But that is what the difference between you and me is, I wanted something I never had.

And you wanted to create something with the thing you already had.

[sea-lilli]

I feel like I am a completely different person now than I was then. When I look at old journals / art, I’m like… different. I feel like I aged 10 years and it’s only been 2 years. I never wanted kids. I never expected to have a family of my own. Anytime at work, they’d say “oh go home to your families” I would kinda internally snicker bc I knew I didn’t have one. Even when Donald tried to call us a family once, it just wasn’t real. It wasn’t real until I got with Jax and Jane.

And now I just like … cherish them so much. My life is so full because of Jane. She triggers the fuck out of me, and is the source of most of my fights with Jax. But my life is full. I have a lot of fun with her around now. I plan things. I do stuff out. We have family outings and family activities. It’s not just every once in a while, either, it is often. I just… I love it.

But I get scared sometimes. Is this really what I want? Because it’s so different than what I thought. I thought that I really wanted to live in my tiny house by myself, maybe with a partner pulled up beside me in his own tiny house. Maybe even a woman! And I thought I wanted to just live like that and do art and be sustainable. Basically live a retired life. It was an edit of the dream I had with Donald, which I mean… I had way less energy back then, and I really wanted to be retired. I was jealous of retired people because they had a small, livable income and could just pursue their passions. That’s what I wanted. To pursue my passion.

And now I have it. I have passion in my job / career. I absolutely love it. But that tiny house vision didn’t work with the passion. I still want one, you know? They’re so fucking cute and I love that everything has its own little place. But now I’m seeing they can also be stressful. Having so little. Having to worry about space all the time. I do still think tho, if I’d had the income to fix the house up and finish it, I think it would have been fine and I would have loved it. I also know tho that I wouldn’t have loved it as much as current life with job.

I think the best part of my life rn is my job. My family life is pretty good, but it’s not as good because I have a lot of triggers still. But my job teaches me to be good at family life and for that I am so so so so thankful. It helps me connect with Jane, lowers my triggers and lowers her behaviors.

I don’t get it tho. I am so happy with my new life. Why do I still get sad about the loss of my old one? It’s like, I miss the tiny house and how it made me “unique” and instantly praised. I miss talking about minimalism and how passionate I am about it. It used to be my biggest passion. Now I realize, it’s healing. It kinda always was (but with me not others), but I didn’t realize it until a lot later. I thought I was going to therapy bc I absolutely needed it, not because healing is my passion and what I’m supposed to do. And my healing passion? It’s like… 10000. My minimalism passion? 3000-5000. It was big at the time bc I didn’t realize my healing passion. But ya.

I also miss my social life. I used to go out all the time and have a lot of friends. That was my life post divorce and pre COVID. I would go out meet up with other singles my age and it was just a lot of fun. And the people at work loved me. They all were jealous of my social life and that I was always doing something fun. Now, I go out more to events and things but they’re all family friendly and all with kids. I never get to go and do adult things with adults. That, I think, is what’s missing there.

I’m also tired-er now tho. I used to go out dancing on Tuesdays and I’d get off at 7, get ready and go, knowing I had to work the next morning at 10. I have a high stress job now and even if I do get off early, I just want to go home after my shift and be relaxed. I was really stressed too at the call center but for different reasons, and it wasn’t the same. After my shifts, I was done. At this job, I carry it. I know it would still be good to go and do the thing anyway, but it’s just hard. My house is calming too. And before, my tiny house never really had that relax factor. I mean, kinda, but it was also a little scary in the middle of the night / nowhere.

I also miss the church me, tho that’s been gone a while. I’m so committed to my relationship with God, but I just can’t do the church. I always have this nuanced relationship. And it just doesn’t work out. It was also more of the same. I was “unique.” I was one of the only raging liberal artist feminists in the church. I needed to be special and the tiny house and the church life helped to meet those needs. Now I’m special at work and I’m special at home.

I also miss being carefree. I didn’t have to worry about a lot because the tiny house gave me freedom, in that I didn’t have to always work my life away. I “played” a lot. I did art a lot (I do now too and actually have more fun with it now than I did then). I thought a lot. I was like floating around living life, having fun in the clouds while my reality kinda sucked a little bc unfinished house. I miss the playful me. I was triggered a lot this last year with Jane, and I just don’t always feel safe opening up like that with her. It’s happening now tho more and more. But I’m still not super playful like I was then. I have to always worry about her triggering me in some way. I’m no longer carefree either. I am bound by my feelings trying to avoid hurting anyone. And that’s so constricting sometimes. I do wish I could tell Jax all the things on my mind, like especially with Jane, but he gets so sensitive sometimes with her. He always listens, he always grows, but he’s also always defensive first. I wish he had the ability to hear what I was saying and not take it personal right away… like a therapist I guess. I guess it’s really better that he can’t tho. Lol

Anyway, that’s basically it right now. I am happy in life. I also miss my old one at the same time. It’s also very scary to be happy. Sometimes i get so happy, i disassociate because I get so scared of it. I just never really thought this could happen. I don’t know why happy is sometimes scary.

[ridleymocki]

So I finally watched Netflix’s Persuasion and yes, I pretty much hated it, but not for the reason you’d expect. My Austen-loving friend and I set aside a whole night for this. We watched three films as follows:

Appetizer: Persuasion (2007) with Sally Hawkins and Rupert Penry-Jones

Main course: Persuasion (2022) on Netflix with Dakota Johnson and Cosmo Jarvis

Palate cleanser: Emma (2020) with Anya Taylor-Joy and Johnny Flynn

Watching things in this order really threw some things into relief. Now, obviously as an adaptation Persuasion 2022 is inaccurate in ways people have already explained. There are significant disparities between the film and the source text (Anne’s a wine lush now?). There are also egregious anachronisms in costuming, hair, and makeup (through pure oversight the side characters end up being the most historically accurate). But, that aside, in my writerly opinion this isn’t even a competent stand alone film. You know the whole rule of “show don’t tell”? This film is fundamentally incapable of following that rule. Everything its told -- verbally, explicitly, almost condescendingly -- to the audience.

There seems to be a fundamental lack of trust in the audience, and our ability to interpret visual cues like facial expressions and tone of voice. There literally is nothing in this film that is conveyed subtly on good faith that people will understand what’s going on.

This is a faith that Austen herself and previous adaptations had in abundance. A key theme in much of Austen’s work is that because of social mores and the rules of propriety, people couldn’t just say what they meant, but had to obfuscate and convey intention through subtlety like double-speak, tone, facial expressions, etcetera. Think Darcy helping Elisabeth into the carriage in Pride & Prejudice (2005). Emma (2020) also does this particularly well; a good example is when Mr Martin runs after Harriet to advise that the road is flooded and she should take another route - meanwhile their facial expressions are full of an aching longing and pain, and while he’s talking about roads he’s really saying I still care for you even though you rejected me. And the Sally Hawkins Persuasion (2007) spares no amount of film in showing longing, yearning looks between characters, while Hawkins does something I would call ‘lung-acting’ where she conveys emotion merely by how she struggles to take a breath.

Netflix’s Persuasion wouldn’t know subtlety if it hit it over the head. The writers, for example, presume that we need not only the image of Anne crying in the bathtub to understand that she is sad and anguished, but that for proper comprehension we also need Anne telling us directly how awfully terribly sad she is (and this is one of the better parts of narration she has).

The choice to have Anne talk directly to camera, in some misguided attempt to replicate the charm of Fleabag, means that Johnson spends much of her dialogue in pure exposition which is neither interesting nor necessary. Plot points that could be made obvious from making the characters actually, you know, interact are substituted with sweeping faux-prophetic explanations of Anne’s relationship to others from her own mouth.

Moreover, other characters make a particular point to express how wonderful Anne is, verbally and very on-the-nose. I can’t direct-quote because I can’t bring myself to watch it again, but Louisa, Mr Harville, Mr Elliot and others all verbally extol Anne’s virtues in a rather heavy-handed attempt to convince the audience that Anne is really, truly, a very good and clever woman. But the thing is, you don’t need that if your character is behaving in a way consistent with those aforementioned virtues. Because then we can just see it. Show, don’t tell. And fundamentally, Johnson’s Anne Elliot does not behave consistent to how others describe her.

In the 2007 adaptation with Sally Hawkins, we as the audience see her exhibit deeply capable and compassionate behaviour, so that when characters later on sparingly praise these characteristics in her, the audience already agrees with it from the evidence of our own eyes. By contrast, the Netflix adaptation alters some fundamental points at which we see these virtues displayed.

When Little Charles falls from the tree, this is how it plays out in the book: “ Anne had every thing to do at once; the apothecary to send for, the father to have pursued and informed, the mother to support and keep from hysterics, the servants to control, the youngest child to banish, and the poor suffering one to attend and soothe; besides sending, as soon as she recollected it, proper notice to the other house, which brought her an accession rather of frightened, enquiring companions, than of very useful assistants.”

Ron Bass and Alice Winslow (the writers of the script for the Netflix adaptation) have Johnson’s Anne peace-keepingly agree to miss the party and watch over the boy purely to diffuse Mary’s complaining. Then, she gets drunk on a windowseat overlooking the party, presumably while the child himself is asleep downstairs. She opens the window and yells out to Wentworth, ducking down below the window when he hears and looks over. She accidentally knocks over a gravy boat in her inebriated stumbling and the gravy drips onto her head where she sits hiding on the floor.

This disparity between book and film is not just a quibble about wanting the source material accurately honoured. It is a problem because through making this change to the plot the narrative loses the characterisation of Anne that it fundamentally needed in order to be coherent. The audience requires scenes of her deftly handling the crisis with little Charles’ fall in order to validate Anne’s characterisation as capable, good in a crisis, level-headed, and strong. We need to see that this is the case, not merely be told it is so.

For another example, the case of Anne and Mrs Smith is treated thusly in the book (skip to tl;dr if you cbf): “ Anne had gone unhappy to school... and Miss Hamilton... had been useful and good to her in a way which had  considerably lessened her misery, and could never be remembered with indifference... ”

And also: “She was a widow and poor.  Her husband had been extravagant; and at his death, about two years before, had left his affairs dreadfully involved.  She had had difficulties of every sort to contend with, and in addition to these distresses had been afflicted with a severe rheumatic fever, which, finally settling in her legs, had made her for the present a cripple.  She had come to Bath on that account, and was now in lodgings near the hot baths, living in a very humble way, unable even to afford herself the comfort of a servant, and of course almost excluded from society. Their mutual friend answered for the satisfaction which a visit from Miss Elliot would give Mrs. Smith, and Anne therefore lost no time in going.  She mentioned nothing of what she had heard, or what she intended, at home.  It would excite no proper interest there.”

and: “ Anne found in Mrs. Smith the good sense and agreeable manners which she had almost ventured to depend on, and a disposition to converse and be cheerful beyond her expectation.  Neither the dissipations of the past--and she had lived very much in the world--nor the restrictions of the present, neither sickness nor sorrow seemed to have closed her heart or ruined her spirits.”

Tl;dr: Mrs Smith is Anne’s old school friend who is widowed and poorly. Despite being of significantly higher social status than Mrs Smith, Anne goes to visit her in Bath on the pretense it will raise Mrs Smith’s spirits and doesn’t tell her family about it. Anne rekindles an affectionate friendship with her, even admiring her for her optimism.

But... Mrs Smith is erased from the Netflix version.

Again, this is not a quibble about accuracy, it’s about whether the text can actually function coherently.

In losing Mrs Smith, we lose everything that this friendship contributes to the text. We lose the understanding that Anne values the qualities of other people’s characters over their social status or wealth (particularly when we contrast her like for Mrs Smith with her dislike for Lady Dalrymple). We lose that insight that she has this mentality contrary to the values of the rest of her family who are insufferably social-climby -- i.e.: unlike them, Anne’s not a snob. To wit, we lose the evidence that Anne’s rejection of Wentworth eight years ago was definitely not for classist reasons, as here she is having a social connection to a poor and disabled widow without a care for their class difference. We also lose the second example (along with Wentworth) of how Anne’s affection for someone can be long-running and endure many years without contact, and thereby, how in this respect her character is constant and loyal despite the logical conclusion from her mistake eight years ago and Wentworth’s suppositions.

We as the audience not only need these things, the other characters need it, too, in order to judge Anne’s character as highly and praisingly as they do. The showing of these qualities in her through her actions legitimises all the conclusions other characters make about her, and helps those characters and the audience both to comprehend how and why the plot plays out as it does, with Anne and Wentworth’s eventual reconciliation.

The absence of this observational evidence from the Netflix adaptation means that the other character’s insistence on Anne’s virtuousness is compensatory. It aims to do what the movie visually and narratively has not provided. I can only presume that the writers realised they were writing-out these character-building moments in favour of snappiness and comedic scenes, and sought to reinstate Anne’s integral characteristics through dialogue.

But, it doesn’t work.

We end up with characters doing one thing and saying another. And I as an audience member felt particularly patronised for having all the authorial intentions spelled out to me.

And so, even if I put some mental blinkers on and pretend the source material doesn’t exist. Even if I pretend the anachronisms in the worldbuilding, dialogue, costuming and plot are deliberate and considered a-la Bridgerton. Even if I try to the see the merits of the film for themselves (I thought Cosmo Jarvis was quite good and wish he was in a better version, and Mia McKenna-Bruce was kind of delightful as Mary in a way Mary never is). Even with all that, the Netflix version is not a functional text. And it’s not bad because of any of those other reasons, it’s bad because of that. It’s badly written. It condescends its audience. And the facts of the events don’t match the testimony of the characters. It just, makes no sense.

[anashins]

The Right Kind of Wrong

Title: The Right Kind of Wrong

Pairing: Jaehyun x You

Genre: hate to love, cheating, college!au, friendship, romance, smut

Warnings: smut, cheating, cursing, toxicity

Word Count: 8.454

Summary: There are many reasons for you to hate Jung Jaehyun. Aside from being cocky and selfish, the fact that he is dating your best friend is another one of them. But his mesmerizing smile - to hell with it - just isn't.

____

There were at least a hundred things you hated about Jung Jaehyun.

The fact that he was dating your best friend was just one of them.

Not a single day had passed by in the last year in which she hadn’t complained about her boyfriend having flirted with another woman, having ditched her again, going to a party and ignoring her all night, or simply dragging her mood down by one of his unpredictable and hurtful actions.

Aside from being cocky, selfish, arrogant and reckless, Jung Jaehyun was absolutely incapable of being a decent human being for more than ten seconds, and you were wondering why he was so damn popular despite all his faults.

When you went out with your friend group, he mocked the boys trying to hit on you, telling you they were so desperate for that move. When you were attending the same class, he purposely sat down next to you to distract you from the lesson. When he was at your dorm, he kept moving your things onto high shelves, knowing you couldn’t reach them.

And his smirk everytime he did so… his smirk every time he mocked you was so annoying. But also so hot.

Fuck, you thought whenever his mischievious eyes met yours again, and you had to turn away, at a loss for words and afraid he’d caught you flushing. You were so ashamed, because you actually wanted to hate him.

There were many reasons for you to hate Jung Jaehyun, but his mesmerizing smile wasn't one of them.

You hadn’t hated him from the first moment that you two had officially met as you had gotten introduced to each other through your best friend who was also your dorm mate, though. She had found him on a dating app, and you had found him sitting in your class two days later, talking back to the professor.

Back then, you had started admiring his intelligence and courage. But those were the only two positive things you had spotted so far as you only tried to stay as far away from him as possible, emphasizing his negative character traits over and over again.

But the truth was that staying away from him was a very hard thing to do, and you fought every day for your sanity, trying to be a good friend and suppressing your controversial feelings for a man who was absolutely forbidden to you.

“He went drinking last night and I saw an instagram story of him grinding against another girl on the dancefloor!” your best friend complained in your arms, tears on the verge of flowing. “Who’s doing that even?!”

A few pairs of eyes turned into your direction, but when you threw fierce glances at the people staring at you, they passed by very quickly.

When you had been invited to your friend Johnny’s house party, you hadn’t expected to be spending the evening comforting your best friend, even though that had been your daily routine for the past three weeks.

It had grown toxicly usual for Jaehyun and her to fight in a two to three day rhythm over the smallest things, and although their wonky relationship or whatever it was hadn’t been very steady before with them breaking up nearly monthly, lately it had grown almost obnoxious.

“Why don’t you just break up with him?” you suggested again and immediately felt your heart sink.

It wasn’t like you wanted them to break up because you wanted Jaehyun for yourself. You’d never do that to her.

Your best friend was just constantly hurting, and it hurt you just as much when you saw her suffering so greatly. Jung Jaehyun wasn’t a good guy, and you both knew. Yet, she couldn’t let go of him. You knew exactly how that felt.

Even if they were to break up, he wouldn’t belong to you. Because a friend’s ex was a taboo. So having Jaehyun gone entirely from your lives would kill two birds with one stone.

“Not that again!” your friend whined and retreated from you, sinking into the couch with her arms crossed and no signs of tears anymore. “I can’t! I mean… look at him! He’s so hot, and don’t get me even started about his skills in bed. That’s where we usually make up, you know, so-”

“I’m going to get you something to drink!” you interrupted her and jumped up. “You totally need a cocktail now! To come to your senses!”

You loved your best friend dearly, but you didn’t want to hear about Jaehyun’s skills by all means. At some times, your friend didn’t have a filter, and then, it only spiraled downhill from there. You heard them often enough in the dorm, that was already pushing you to your limits.

When you entered the kitchen, you reached up to get a glass from the shelf, but like most of the times, you were too short for the remaining ones at the very top.

“Here, let me help you.”

A soft voice echoed from behind you, but before you could turn around to follow the tone, the guy had already heaved up his arm and reached over you to the very top of the shelf to get you a glass.

Shifting around, you faced the mischievous expression of the young man you had wanted to avoid and who your best friend was currently crying over.

Without a “thank you”, you reached out your hand to grab the glass from Jaehyun, but he immediately shot his arm up to bring the glass high over his head and far out of your reach.

“You think a simple ‘thank you’ is too much for you?”

“Fuck off, Jaehyun.” You crunched with your teeth and narrowed your eyes. “I’d rather die of thirst!”

“What did I do again?” He rolled his eyes in an annoyed manner as though his high spirits got ruined. “What did she tell you?”

“She told me everything she saw from last night!” you defended your friend. “That’s enough for me to get the picture!”

“Okay, and did the picture somehow include me pushing the girl away after she had grinded on me?”

You gulped.

“Just as I thought.”

He placed the glass on the counter, but somehow, this hadn’t got your both’s attention anymore.

“There are two sides of the same coin, yet all you've ever done was looking only at one.”

He approached you, and the rising hotness in your cheeks made you withdraw until your hips bumped into the kitchen counter.

Jaehyun leaned in and propped his arm against the same spot right next to your hip as he asked, “I know you’re her best friend, but being a friend doesn’t mean supporting your friends delusional, one sided thoughts into oblivion. Being a friend sure means to support, I’m not denying that. But being a true friend means to tell someone when they’re wrong. And I am not the one at fault here, y/n.”

“You were doing many stupid things to hurt her in the past!” you started blabbering just to bridge over the silence you’d get when you would stare at his mesmerizing eyes for a little longer. “How am I supposed to believe you?”

“You aren’t supposed to believe me.” He retreated, with the glass in his hand. “All I’m asking for is a chance to explain myself.”

Again, you were flabbergasted by the way he expressed his thoughts that stood in contrast to his questionable behavior. One of the main things that fascinated you. But you quickly turned this feeling into hate by recalling his wrongdoings from the night before.

Looking at the glass, Jaehyun continued, “Yes, there were many things I did wrong in the past. And I’m not going to pinpoint my finger at my girlfriend to tell that she was doing just as many questionable things as me. But people have reasons for doing the things they do. That’s probably why we’re such a good match.”

You didn’t understand a word. In your eyes, and you only knew about their relationship by what your friend told you and what you observed when you were hanging out, the two weren’t a good match at all.

He was the one constantly hurting her feelings, and she was the one to always get hurt.

Or... wasn’t it?

Jaehyun then thrusted the glass into your hand. “You’re lucky, y/n, you know that? It must be so great, living that freely, without any burdens… So oblivious to everything.”

With these words, he disappeared from the kitchen, leaving you behind all alone with the glass in your hand.

You looked at the item, your face getting reflected in the crystals to unrecognizability while Jaehyun’s words still kept you occupied. They had such an impact on you that you suddenly started to question whether your hate against him was actually valid.

When you stepped out of the kitchen yourself with a full glass of your best friend’s favorite cocktail in your hand, you found her in Jaehyun’s arms again, wildly kissing, his kind words suddenly vanished from your mind upon spotting them.

Instead, there was a little monster called jealousy sitting right inside your chest.

___

“8am in the morning! Who even places classes that early?!”

With a groan, Jaehyun flopped down in the seat next to you.

“Shut up, class is about to start.”

“Man, you must be really fun at parties,” he replied. “The professor is not even here yet.”

“You’re annoying, Jung Jaehyun, and if you weren’t dating my friend, I wouldn’t actually talk to you at all.”

“What are the odds we’re still connected to each other, huh! Tell me, y/n, what did I ever do to you? How did I ever hurt you? We’ve never even really spoken with each other ever since we’ve gotten introduced.”

“And I am grateful for this every single day.”

“What is it that you hate about me so much?” he questioned further, his eyes challenging.

But with your eyes straight ahead and no words on your lips, you ignored him as the professor entered the room only a short moment after, announcing the class’ start.

Your pen flew over the sheet, noting down the professor’s words when suddenly, goose bumps spread all over your arm.

When your eyes followed the trail to its source, your right elbow touched Jaehyun’s left one as a result of your hectic writing motions as you had moved too far to the side. The spot on your skin was so warm and so…

You withdrew your arm right away, placing it back to where it usually belonged, but Jaehyun’s own limb had moved so far to the left that you had no place to rest it next to your notes anymore without having his skin barely one inch apart from you. You weren’t touching anymore, but he was so close that you still felt him somehow.

Of course you could drop your arm and place it on your lap as the professor had stopped presenting the most important points of this lesson. Of course you could just move further away with your entire belongings, but the fact was that you didn’t. That you couldn’t.

Instead, you were fixating your eyes on the board right in front of you, listening to your professor’s words but not actually understanding a single syllable that he uttered as your heart beat fast against your chest.

You hoped that Jaehyun didn’t notice how desperate you were for him not to shift away right now. That you actually enjoyed it, but felt so much hatred at the same time. Not against him, but against you - for feeling this way.

“Can you answer my question, Miss y/n?”

Your eyes widened in shock as you got addressed by the professor by your surname. You were actually a good student who was always paying attention in class. Under normal circumstances, this wouldn’t have happened. But now you got caught red handed not listening to him, and he was a very strict lecturer.

“I… um…” you stuttered.

“The answer to my question, Miss.”

“Yes… the answer…” You gulped as you didn’t even know the question. “The answer is…”

From the corner of your eyes, you perceived how a sheet was slowly moving into your direction from Jaehyun’s place. His finger was pointed at a paragraph that you had also noted down only shortly before.

Suddenly, you knew what the question was about and answered formally to the professor’s task.

With your heart having calmed down after the shock, you let yourself sink down on your seat again. You had gotten distracted only once by something that shouldn’t bother you at all.

This wouldn’t happen again, you swore to yourself.

____

“No ‘thank you’ again from you?”

You turned around to Jaehyun who had rosen a brow at you. “Is this becoming your thing now? Asking for ‘thank yous’?”

“Is this becoming your thing now?” he returned. “Not saying ‘thank you’? I saved your ass in class.”

“Well, I haven’t asked for that, so go beg somewhere else for attention.”

You made your way through the crowded club, feelling the bass under your feet and the techno music in your ears. Jaehyun was following suit.

“Do you want some kind of reward from me? Because you’re not going to get it.”

“I don’t want a reward. Hey.”

He reached out and grabbed you by your arm, right there on the dancefloor. The feeling from this morning returned, but in a higher intensity as it spread all over your body.

“All I’m asking for is respect.”

You snorted. “Respect? Do you respect my friend when you destroy her weekend plans to go drinking with your friends instead? Do you respect my friend when you dance ass on ass with another girl? Do you respect my friend when you hurt her feelings with your rude words? I don’t like you, Jung Jaehyun, because you’re a bad person, and respect is the last thing you’ll ever get from me!”

You yanked yourself out from his grip and disappeared in the mass. What was up with him? Why was he bothering so much lately and evoking all these controversial feelings inside you by acting like this? He should just stay away.

With your eyes closed, you started to move with the music, all by yourself there on the dancefloor. You wanted to collect your thoughts, but as the music flooded through your body, you realized that thinking about nothing was probably the best way to cope with your inner struggles right now.

You opened your eyes widely when you suddenly felt a hand on your bum.

Turning around with much anger reflected in your mien, you stared at a boy around your age who grinned at you seductively. Your fierce gaze was probably mistaken for an invitation when he approached you further, grabbed you by your hips from the front and pressed you against him.

With his lips on your ear, he whispered, “I like what I see.”

And you wanted to scream. You probably did, but it got drowned out by the loud music, and his grip was way too hard for you to free yourself that easily as you shuffled in his arms.

“Let me go!”

Yet, his hands roamed around your private areas like they owned it.

“HEY!”

Before you could scream once more, the guy got dragged away from you by the last person you had expected it from.

“She said let go of her, you asshole!”

Jaehyun grabbed him by his collar, and his height and angry expression alone were probably enough for the other guy to nearly piss his pants as he hastily mouthed,

“I’m so sorry!”

When Jaehyun let go of him, he slipped off silently and wasn’t seen again.

You stood there awkwardly with your arms hugging your chest, still digesting the happenings.

“Did he hurt you?” Jaehyun asked when he leaned in for you to understand better.

You shook your head.

“Do you want to go outside?”

You nodded.

Jaehyun took you by your hand to lead you through the dancing crowd, and you didn’t protest.

This gesture was the total opposite to the disgusting one from the guy who had harassed you shortly before. This touch was raw and chaste. Nothing to be ashamed of and fight against, but something you wanted to accept wholeheartedly.

When you stood outside of the club, Jaehyun let go of your hand, and you finally whispered the words that he had been longing to hear for quite a time,

“Thank you.”

Against your expectations, he didn’t mock you or return witty words. With his eyes locked with yours, he sincerely told you,

“You’re welcome.”

That was the moment it dawned on you that Jung Jaehyun had more positive sides to him that you had always wanted to blend out. But perhaps, you had reached a point in which this wasn’t possible anymore.

You couldn’t continue keeping your eyes closed to all the kind sides of him. Because the more he showed you, the more you’d open your heart for him.

To you, Jung Jaehyun had to remain a bad person, otherwise you’d fall for him, and falling for your best friend’s boyfriend was a taboo.

“Hey, what are you two doing outside?!” Speaking of the devil, your best friend jumped out of the club’s door and into your direction. “Isn’t the music fun?”

Jaehyun looked at you, waiting for your reaction. You knew that if you wanted to go home, he’d follow. If you wanted to stay, he’d stay too, not letting you out of his sight. Because - and you couldn’t repeat this often enough - Jaehyun was actually a good person.

“I want to go home,” you decided. “You can stay, though! Please just let me be the party pooper all alone, I don’t want to spoil your night.”

“Oh, what a pity!” your friend said with a pout. “You always leave when the party is about to start!”

You shrugged with a weak smile, tired of fighting. “Yeah, I guess so. But I still have a lot of pages to revise.”

“Shall we take you back to the dorm?” Jaehyun offered in a caring voice that you apparently encountered for the first time, and your friend immediately shot a reproachful glare at him.

“Are you being serious right now?” she complained. “She’s a grown ass woman who can go home alone!”

His eyes hadn’t left yours. “I’m talking to her, not you.”

Had it always been like this? Her caring about herself more than about you? If it were the other way around, you wouldn’t let her go home alone in the middle of the night, no matter if you knew something had happened before or not.

Suddenly, you saw your best friend from a whole other perspective. Suddenly, she was the one having Jaehyun on a leash, and he was the one fighting back for his rights, not against her.

Two sides of the same coin… If you were to flip it, would your entire world view change?

For a moment, you hesitated. But not wanting to disturb your friend’s evening, you gave in with a, “It’s okay, I can go alone. Have a nice night!”

But Jaehyun held you back when he insisted on calling you an uber for which he even paid while your best friend continued pouting on the side.

____

“FUCK YOU, JAEHYUN!” you heard your best friend scream later that night from her room, every syllable of hers clearly to hear in your own room while you laid in bed later that night.

The hours before had passed by in a trance as you had only fallen onto your mattress face forward after having quickly changed into your pj’s, that was how much of a toll the day had taken on you.

You just wanted to forget what had happened in the club, but also the thoughts that had constantly been in your mind all the way home that only revolved around Jaehyun. So sleep was the best solution, and you would have gladly continued doing so if there weren’t your best friend and Jaehyun arguing loudly next to you for an hour already.

Then, Jaehyun seemed to return something to which she screamed again, “I DON’T FUCKING CARE!”

Stomping followed the brief silence, a door getting opened, then shut again, and footsteps moved into the direction of the entry door before it fell close behind Jaehyun.

This was a nearly weekly experience for you lately, and usually, you’d just miss hearing their arguments, but this time you couldn’t help but to wonder what they had been yelling about. You just hoped it wasn’t because of you and what had happened to you earlier, because in your eyes, Jaehyun had done nothing wrong.

He had been so incredibly nice and thoughtful that you started to doubt their relationship.

You turned in your bed, wanting to fight those thoughts so badly. Jaehyun was your best friend’s boyfriend, and hence, forbidden fruit for you. But you just couldn’t stop your imagination from running now.

What it would be like in your best friend’s place and get treated like this every day, and the worst part was that you didn’t even feel bad about betraying her in your mind.

Fuck, you only thought and sat straight up in bed, now surely not being able to grasp a light thought to accompaby you back to lseep anymore.

Feeling safe to leave your room ten minutes later as your roommate must have fallen asleep by now, you didn’t think about sleep anymore but wanted to get a glass of water from the kitchen to calm yourself down.

Perhaps, tomorrow, you’d have another look at the entire situation, you tried to convince yourself. After a few more hours of sleep, all these confusing thoughts and feelings might have already been forgotten.

“Cannot sleep yet?”

You turned around and found a half naked Jaehyun only dressed in boxers right in front of you. The empty glass of water in your hands got placed back on the counter with shaky fingers.

“What are you doing here?” you contered.

“Well… she suddenly left.” He shrugged. “We’ve been arguing. You sure haven’t missed that one.”

“I didn’t.”

Still, you were wondering what that was all about, but didn’t want to ask. He lifted the weight off your shoulders himself though.

“It was about you.”

“Oh…?” You gulped.

“When you were gone, I went back to that guy and didn’t let him go that easily. They threw me out of the club and your friend thought I'd ruined the night for her.”

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

You wanted to make your way around him, but he blocked your way as he didn’t move to make space for you to pass by the door.

“What’s making me a bad person, y/n?” Jaehyun suddenly asked. “ The way I saved you in class? In the club? Tell me.”

“You cannot be serious right now. It’s 5am, draw a number for another day.”

You wanted to slip under his stretched out arm, but he moved his body to block you again. “Number one. Now tell me.”

“Because those have been the only times you were nice to me, Jung Jaehyun!” You clenched your fists, breathing in deeply. “When we go out with our friend group, you mock the boys trying to hit on me, telling them they’re so desperate for that move!”

“Because I heard them speaking about you before,” he declared. “They were not looking for something serious but only fun, one had even placed a bet. I tried to spare you from this embarrassment and eventual lovesickness. Go on.”

“When we’re in the same class, you purposely sit down next to me to distract me from the lesson!”

This one let him smirk. “Because I always saw you sitting there alone. You have no friends in that class, and I thought you might need some company. Besides… I knew you couldn’t afford that book we needed, and I purposely always shoved it into your direction when the professor read from it. Have you never noticed?”

Now you have. And you were flabbergasted.

“Wh… when,” you stuttered, “you’re over here, you always move my stuff onto high shelves, knowing I cannot reach them!”

“Because I love to see the defeated look on your face and your cute pout when you have to ask me to get the things for you.”

You didn’t know what to say further as you stood there, frozen on the spot. You hadn’t seen this answer coming.

“Anything else?”

Yes, there were many things you hated him for, and you wanted to throw them all into his face, but as he was standing there in front of you, not even one more came into your mind.

“I just hate you to the core!” you hissed.

But with calmness in his voice, he only turned, “No, you don’t.”

And then, it was all only a blur.

You wanted to push him away, but instead, you found yourself nudging against his body. You wanted to free yourself from his grip, but instead, you wrapped your arms around him. You wanted to escape from his kiss, but instead, you kissed him back in the same passionate manner he kissed you.

Jaehyun’s hands roamed all over your lightly covered body while his lips moved against yours, touching every spot he had missed out on during the entire time he knew you, because you had always pushed him away.

But now that you had opened up to him, you were scared the time window was about to close very soon, so you had to work fast.

You jumped on him, hooking your thighs around his waist while his hands instantly clung around your buttocks to give you the support he needed to carry you to your bedroom. Your hands remained interlaced on the back of his neck when he placed you onto your bed and laid himself between your legs.

Thrown overboard were all your morals, priorities, and the friendship to the person that meant the world to you. You didn’t want to think about all that, but were longing for him so desperately that you wondered for how long you had been suppressing that desire already.

Jung Jaehyun was hot. But he was a bad person.

Or… wasn’t he?

You desperately ground upwards against him, feeling him growing between your legs, and you brought your hands down to massage his length. Jaehyun interrupted your kiss as he hadn’t expected this move to come, and groaned into your ear.

You smirked triumphantly, your hands kneading muscles until he was pressed hard against your palms. Tucking your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, you slid the garment from his hips, revealing his bum. Your hands glided along his curvy, soft mounds, grabbing into them like you were testing ripe peaches.

Jaehyun was pecking your lips as you slid your hands under his body again and closed around his entire girth. He stopped for a moment, but the second he continued on, you started moving your hands, top on top, along his length.

Not being able to concentrate on the feeling down there and kissing you simultaneously anymore, you perceived how Jaehyun got weak with supporting his body on his own arms that he had rested to the left and right of your head. So you decided to take the lead from here on.

Sitting up yourself, you put your palms on Jaehyun’s chest and pushed him backwards onto the mattress. He watched you with surprised eyes, but didn’t protest as you sat on his thighs, eyeing his member with much anticipation.

You slid further down his legs, nearly close to his ankles, and bowed down. With your fingers wrapped around the base of his dick, you led him to your mouth. First letting the tip pass by your lips, then his entire length up until the very middle.

You only heard him swearing, “fucking shit,” before Jaehyun covered his face with his arm placed over his eyes and his other clasping the sheet by his side. Your hair grazed over the area around his navel while you moved your head up and down, cautiously slow at first to give yourself time to adapt to his length.

Then, you started bobbing your head, increasing the speed with every time you came up and nearly let him slip out, your fingers that had closed around him sliding in the same rhythm, adding to the pleasure. The slurping noises that came along with this act filled the room until they got drowned out by Jaehyun’s moans.

He directed his hand towards your head and grabbed it by the back, ruffling your hair between his fingers while he started to thrust upwards, meeting you halfway in the fast motions. Like this, he was able to reach deep within you, but still not far enough so that he could hurt you.

When you witnessed him twitching his legs, you stopped, held him still by the base and decided to tease him further a bit before you allowed him to release himself. With the tip of your tongue, you touched his glans, trailed along the slip and then circled around the entire top part.

Jaehyun’s swearing words came in a never ending trail like a waterfall that you couldn’t really understand all syllables from, but you were sure you did a good job and rewarded him for being patient with the motions from before again, but this time with added pressure and passion.

Suddenly, he grabbed you by your arm, urging you to stop.

“Or else I’m gonna cum,” he said and sat himself up, flipping you around so that you laid under him again.

Hastily, you got rid of your top while Jaehyun worked on your sleeping shorts until shortly after, you were both lying naked on top of each other. You wanted him desperately inside you, because you just didn’t know when you’ve had had sex the last time, but instead of wanting to get through this fast, Jaehyun took his time.

That was when you realized that this entire joining was probably more to him than just sex to get it off. You had thought that because he hadn’t been able to get it tonight from your best friend, he’d take it from you. But the way he touched you insisted otherwise.

If it wasn’t more than just sex, he wouldn’t trail his fingers over your ribcage in feathery-light motions, admiring every inch of your body. If it wasn’t more than a body-focused act, he wouldn’t place soft kisses not only on your mouth, but also onto your forehead, your cheek, your neck… If it wasn’t more, Jaehyun wouldn’t be so damn thoughtful and tender.

He remained his tenderness and his gaze didn’t leave your eyes as well when he finally nudged between your thighs, pushing forward until he filled you up to the brim.

Restraining himself from starting to move right away, Jaehyun took his time to ask you whether you were okay at first when you let out a quiet “oh” that alarmed him. But you were eager to calm him down when you explained that it was only because you hadn’t been with a man in so long, and somehow, after speaking it out, it made you feel embarrassed.

As the boyfriend of your best friend, he’d surely know when you had been in contact with a man the last time, and you hated yourself for being so pressured by society to feel ashamed of who you were and how you lived your life.

But instead of judging you, Jaehyun only nodded and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, and suddenly, you were flooded with such a warm feeling towards him that you nearly cried. Rarely had you encountered a man so considerate and caring.

“Tell me when I can go on.”

You bit your lip and felt the uncomfortable pressure in your nether regions getting replaced by a feeling that you hadn’t encountered in so long. A feeling that made you want more, want him.

Holding onto his shoulders with both of your hands, you nodded back at him with a smile which he then returned. When Jaehyun started thrusting in and out of you, your eye contact didn’t break, and you were sure that right now, you were looking at the real Jaehyun at this very moment.

Not the guy you hated. Not the guy your best friend was dating. But instead the person who wanted to protect you from guys that only wanted to use you. A person who offered you company in class and shared his equipment with you. And a person whose cheekiness and affection he showed through childish acts because he didn’t know how to express his feelings otherwise.

This was not the person you were sure of knowing all along. Probably because you hadn’t even gotten to know him in the first place.

One arm now clung around his neck while with the other, you grabbed the pillow beside you. You threw your head back in excitement, his pushes coming in short intervals one after another, and he was hitting all the right spots with them.

Jaehyun propped his arms up to the left and right of him, lifting his upper body to gather all his strength in his groin area and stopped for a brief moment before he thrusted inside you with such force that it nearly knocked all air out of your lungs, and you couldn’t respond with anything else than moaning.

It felt so good, so… right. But how could something so wrong still feel so right?

Right now, you didn’t hate Jaehyun or your best friend the most, but yourself and the fact that you continued on and on. That you brought your hips up to meet his thrusts with hazy thoughts and his lips all over yours when he slowed down with his movements to dedicate himself to caressing your breasts.

You felt Jaehyun’s hot tongue swirling over your buds, and you shook under him. Not because it felt cold, but because his tender caresses just felt so good. You didn’t have the feeling that he could do anything wrong with whatever he carried out, that was your impression about how well your bodies meshed together.

No, you didn’t hate Jaehyun. You had always only hated how he had presented himself to you. But there was so much more to him.

Sweat droplets showed on his forehead when he continued with the hard thrusts again, the sound of you both breathing heavily mixing together with the sloppy noises of your bodies moving against each other filling the room, but no matter how messy sex was, it was the most romantic thing you had experienced in a long time.

Your eye contact also didn’t break when Jaehyun arose above you, his sweaty chest glistening in the dim light that shone through your windows, and increased his pace even more. When he dropped his head and bit his lip in the process, you wrapped your arms around him and added pressure to your nether regions as you felt him approaching his heights.

It felt very good to you too, but you were by any means not as far as him yet, so you didn’t blame him when he came only a short moment after with a groan that sounded sexy as hell to you.

You held him tightly when he fell limply onto your chest, still breathing heavily from the orgasm that slowly faded. Staring at the ceiling, you smiled with him in your arms, just enjoying the moment when Jaehyun moved away from you.

“We’re not done here yet,” you saw him grin as he laid himself next to you, rolled onto the side and placed his head in his palms as he propped his elbow against the mattress.

You wondered what was to come when you felt his finger tips dragging from your thighs to your navel, then lower again and stopped right at your most sensitive spot.

“Oh!” you let out as he placed two fingers on your folds and started moving them up and down with your remaining juices as lube that made the intense feeling kick in almost immediately.

You screamed when he added pressure and now directed circling motions around the sensitive bundle of nerves. From your half-closed eyes, you witnessed him looking at you with such admiration but also cheekiness as you writhed and wreathed under him, yet spread your legs even wider as release was so close.

Jaehyun leaned in to you, his fingers not letting go of the continuity as he half covered your body with his and just kissed you passionately. Like this, he encountered first hand how the orgasm took over you, and you moaned into his mouth, riding it out against his hand.

It felt like the most natural thing in the world when he wrapped his arms around you right after and pulled you onto his chest, and you drifted off into a slumber shortly after.

Even though the first tendencies of your bad consciousness set in before you closed your eyes, you decided that this would be the problem of tomorrow.

No, you didn’t hate Jung Jaehyun.

If anything, you should probably hate yourself.

___

“YES… YES… YESYESYES, OHMYGOD!”

You heard your friend from the other side of the wall, having rudely awakened you in the early morning hours. At least you thought so. But a glimpse at your phone through sleepy eyes told you that it was past 11am already.

Within a second, you were wide awake.

You were still naked, but the clothes on your floor only belonged to you, and the spot next to you in the bed was empty.

“OH!MY!GOD!.... YES! OH… OH.... AAAAH… OHOHOH… YES!!”

Jaehyun was gone. At least from your room.

Your best friend’s headboard constantly bumped against the wall, and you grabbed your pillow to cover your ears with it. You didn’t want to hear the sounds. Not because they stole your sleep, but because somehow, for the first time, you didn’t feel disturbed by the noise, but actually hurt.

In your mind, you imagined Jaehyun’s mesmerizing smile, the witty expression he was constantly wearing and his deep voice that had showed you for the first time last night that there was a certain softness within it.

You felt hurt, because you knew all the things from last night had been real between you two, yet he was still fucking your best friend mere hours later. What you had shared and felt had been special, yet he was still with her.

And suddenly, you felt hate again. But towards yourself. For betraying your best friend with him. But first and foremost, for betraying yourself.

You had never hated Jung Jaehyun.

You had always felt some certain kind of attraction towards him, but kept telling yourself you hated him to push him as far away from you as possible. If this wouldn’t be so wrong under these circumstances, this attraction would feel right and could blossom. But like this, you could never come to enjoy this feeling entirely.

Your relationship had been doomed from the very start, because given the wicked circumstances, you would never be able to form a healthy relationship. It was like a stain that would never vanish on a white sheet.

So you just decided to continue as usual. To keep this a secret between the both of you and just to carry on with your life.

And to hate Jung Jaehyun just a little more.

You just didn’t know how to feel and act towards your best friend without feeling so much… regret.

“Good morning.”

But the young man stepping out of your best friend’s room wasn’t Jaehyun. But Johnny.

You sat there in the kitchen with a cup of coffee, your mouth agape. And then it started to rattle in your head.

Lately, there were times when your best friend had screamed the name “Jaehyun!” loudly during the act. Those were the times you had actually seen him the next morning. But the nights she hadn’t screamed a certain name, no one had ever come out. And those times, you had counted more than the ones with Jaehyun in the past weeks, just when their loud arguments started on a nearly daily basis.

“Where’s Jaehyun?” you asked without greeting her good morning as you walked into her room.

“Oh, we had a fight last night,” she explained to you while getting herself dressed casually. “And then we broke up. I went away to be with Johnny after throwing him out, and we’ve only gotten back this morning. I hope he left last night already and didn’t stay here.”

“What?” you wondered.

“Yeah.” She shrugged. “I’ll get over it.”

“You actually already got over it as I’ve seen!”

“Oh, Johnny?”

“You’ve been fucking him for weeks already?” you provoked.

She shrugged again. “Perhaps a month… So what?”

You stood there, totally lost for words. “You’ve been crying about Jaehyun to me ever since you got together! That he flirted with other women, ditched you, went to parties and ignored you! And now you’re telling me you’ve been cheating on him for quite a while?! And this instagram story drama from last week?”

She sighed and flopped down onto the bed. “Okay, admittedly, I’m not an angel in this story, but he is by far neither! He was not. There were many things he has done wrong in the past. But then he actually started… doing nothing wrong. Being the picture perfect boyfriend without all these flaws and drama. And perhaps, this is not something that I want, so I started to look around elsewhere.”

“So…” You paused, still processing the shock. “Was it all an act? All the times you’ve cried to me over him lately while cheating behind his back?”

“Not an act, precisely,” she said reluctantly. “Yes, he explained every situation to me. And I was being dramatic over it for nothing, perhaps. I don’t know… I still enjoyed being with him though, but it just didn’t feel right anymore. I want to have men just… telling me I’m right, always coming back to me… what’s a relationship without fire? But Jaehyun didn’t want to do this anymore.”

In your head, you recalled everything that Jaehyun had told you. About there being two sides of the same coin, about you being so oblivious. All this time, he knew that she had cheated on him. He knew what you thought of him, yet he had never made a move to ever explain it to you.

But why?

“As he should,” you then stated. “How you treated him was awful!”

“Only because I cheated on him a few times?” she chuckled. “Come on!”

“I’m your best friend, and yet you lied to me! You twisted and turned stories so that you’d always be the one at right! But the truth is, you’re the bad person here. Not him.”

“Now what? He’s gone from our lives. Don’t care about him.”

But the truth was, you did. Now more than about her.

That was why, an hour later, you found yourself in front of his dorm. When he opened shortly after you had knocked, you stared at him, still gasping for air as you had run the entire way here, with all the memories from last night coming back with each step.

“She’s been cheating on you,” were the only words you brought out.

“I know.”

“For how long?” you asked.

“I assume for just as long.”

You breathed in heavily, not understanding a word. “But why did you stay with her?”

Jaehyun smiled meekly. “Because I don’t think I deserve a good person like you are.”

It ran hot and cold down your back. “I… I don’t understand.”

He leaned against the door frame with crossed arms, and even though he seemed uncomfortable talking about his feelings, he still did.

“I haven’t been the best boyfriend for her most times in this relationship, I admit this openly. We weren’t really good for each other and it destroyed me to the point that I wanted to change. But when I started being the boyfriend she had wished for, it wasn’t right either and she started cheating. So I just settled with it. Because I thought I screwed up to that point where I won’t be able to make anyone happy anymore and also don’t deserve the same in return. Even though I only wanted you...”

“You douche!” You stomped with your feet on the ground.

“What?” he returned perplexed with furrowed brows.

“Everyone deserves love and to love! And you’re not different from anyone else!”

His confusion got replaced with a mild smile. “You’re so kind, y/n. That’s one of the things I like the most about you. But you’re also oblivious.”

Jaehyun pulled out his phone, scrolled through his messenger and started playing a voice message from a very familiar person.

“Why do you even care about this bitch, Jaehyun?!” In the background, you heard music and other people talking. “She’s a stupid nerd, and I’ve only befriended her because she helps me studying and listens to my complains since we’re dorm mates, so don’t even waste a single thought about this party pooper!”

You stood there as though you had been rendered motionless. Your heart had dropped to your feet.

“This is from last night when I quickly went outside again to check whether you rode away safely with your uber and she couldn’t find me directly. That’s why we argued and broke up. No, it’s not the first time she’s talked about you like this.” He put his phone away. “I thought letting you hate me would make it easier for a kind person like you to keep their distance from someone like me. Because, in the end, I will only hurt you too. But the more I started to genuinely like you, the more I felt protective towards you. I couldn’t see her speaking about you like this anymore.”

Your breathing came in hitches as your whole world suddenly crashed over you. Your best friend wasn’t your best friend. She had probably never been.

You stumbled backwards, and Jaehyun stepped forward to grab you by your arm, but you pulled it away.

“I…. I just…” you stuttered. “I have to… talk to her.”

“Sure.”

The whole way home, you only cried.

Not over Jaehyun, but over the betrayal of someone you had considered your best friend, yet had hurt you in the most painful way like no man ever could. And the fact that you had been an asshole to her to the same extent after having slept with her boyfriend the same night they had broken up was probably the final straw.

You were no saint here. You had added to your both’s downfall just as much. And it hurt much more than any heartbreak you had experienced so far.

You had to sort your life out and right now, and amongst this chaos there was no place for Jaehyun in your life.

____

You put the last vase with dried flowers on your shelf, stepped backwards to your room’s door and inspected the final set up.

“Finished!” you praised yourself.

It had taken you three months to move to a new dorm, but this was your last step to a new chapter in your life.

You hadn’t had contact with your former best friend ever since your final conversation in which you had handed the keys over to her. The many conversations before had only consisted of screams, accusations and tears.

She had admitted to saying all those things about you, but also to genuinely have come like you. You weren’t so sure whether that was real or one of her lies again. You had admitted to sleeping with Jaehyun, and she would have forgiven you for that as she hadn’t been really in love with him anymore at this point, but you were sure you didn’t want either in your life anymore.

Your best friend because she had hurt you deeply, and Jaehyun because of your burdensome history. All of you had done so many wrong things, and you were only a bundle of toxic people together, so chaotic that you were better off apart from each other.

But you didn’t want to be this toxic kind of person anymore. So you moved out and left your old life behind.

You didn’t go to that class with Jaehyun anymore, and although you missed him, the touches of your joint night still present on your skin sometimes, you wanted to move on from even the mere imaginations of him as well. You were sure that you’d find a guy just like him, but you missed him wherever you went and couldn’t help but ask yourself “what if?”

The fact that he hadn’t reached out to you either made it easier, and as summer break came and passed, and the new semester started, you had kissed two news guys already, made a new friend group and were just overall happy.

But you still missed Jaehyun dearly and all the possibilities of what could have happened if only your timing had been right in life. Even if he wasn’t the right one for you.

“Is this seat taken?”

And then, one day, there he was again. Taking the seat next to you as though no time had ever passed between the two of you, smiling that mesmerizing smile you didn’t hate.

You only stared at him, and his kind expression didn’t break. When you moved your head to the front again where the professor introduced himself, you couldn’t help but to smile too. Because this wasn’t the expression of a bad person.

People changed, and just like good traits could turn into bad traits, a bad person could turn into a good one also. And they all deserved a second chance.

You had only known the Jaehyun from your best friend’s perspective, and then also his body. But even though you had gotten a glimpse of the real Jaehyun here and there, you didn’t quite know him entirely yet.

But you wanted to. The good, the bad, the real. Jaehyun wasn’t the right one for you, but such a thing didn’t exist. What mattered were only your feelings.

Because in fact, you didn’t hate Jung Jaehyun. At all.

[angry-geese]

For Myself

Sukuna x Reader

Warnings: nsfw mention. mention of violence, blood, injury, and cannibalism. implied murder. starts off kind of dark but gets fluffier towards the end. gn!reader.

obligatory warning for my poor editing skills. if theres any egregious errors i'll get to them when i get home from work

Summary: some fluff where Sukuna comforts the reader while they're sick

Word Count: 2.4k

He's certain you would be more comfortable in his lap than on the floor. Even as he beckons you to sit, you refuse, turning your gaze away. You adjust your position to a more comfortable spot on your knees. The floor is hard and cold, but you don't have much longer to wait anyway. Sukuna has grown bored of the man standing in front of him. A peace offering, in exchange for not razing their village. A young woman, brought here against her own will. Her life to replace yours. It's nothing Sukuna wants, nor can he make use of her. She’s no sorcerer, likely no good in a fight, and too frail to be worth eating.

Worst of all, it insults you.

An insult to you, is an insult to Sukuna himself.

The man was only delaying the inevitable. Humans have a habit of doing that. They’re resilient, like cockroaches. You can squash, poison, trap, or drop a nuke on as many as you want to, but they’ll always come back.

He planned on killing him from the moment he stepped foot in the door.

And when he kills him, he makes sure to have the woman watch. She lays curled at your feet as you regard them both with cold eyes. Not a scream passes her lips. She’s either frozen with fear, or knows that moving is the worst thing she can do.

She begs for her life.

Sukuna leaves it up to you to decide.

It was an insult to you, after all. In a past life you could see yourself letting her go. There's many things in life you used to do that are no longer habits of yours. You were in her shoes years ago. Time has hardened you, made you cruel. If a past version of you could look at you now, you don't know if you’d recognize yourself. Not all change is bad. People are meant to change, and they’re going to do so.

You give her a minute to start running. After that, it's up to Sukuna with what he wants to do with her.

She takes the opportunity, thinking she has a chance to survive, and flees. The guards and servants let her. Your word is second to Sukuna’s. The only person who could overturn an order put in place by you is Sukuna himself. He usually doesn't. The resulting chaos from anything you do is good entertainment. And he has all the time in the world. Being immortal leads to a lot of boredom.

Sukuna would hunt her down before she could escape the estate.

Nobody got away from him. Not even you. Nowadays you’re much less serious about leaving but you still threaten it if he dares piss you off.

He'd never let you go. You know that. Try as you will, you're never getting free.

Not that you have anything to go back to. And you're rather comfortable here. Comfortable may be a bit of a stretch, but you're housed, fed, and protected. The basic human needs are taken care of. Sukuna cares about you in his own, twisted way. You may have first been just a plaything to keep his stomach full and his balls empty—a toy to be discarded after a day or two—but you've earned a place by his side. He wakes up next to you, he goes to sleep next to you. He's grown used to having you around. And you to him.

You're just as much his, as he is yours.

Everything about the man is selfish, and all-consuming. But when he is with you, he finds himself giving for the first time in his life.

He gets a servant to draw him a bath. He has the decency to scrub the blood off before finding you, and asking you to join him. His bloodied kimono is replaced with a clean one. It's black, the sleeves are wide enough to accommodate his four arms. Blood doesn't bother you, but he doesn't want to track it all over his house.

Something is wrong.

He doesn't remember you getting hurt, but you’re acting like you’re injured. He thinks back to this morning, how he had to drag you out of bed. How sluggish you acted.

Worry creases itself between his eyebrows.

Your mortality was something he knew of, but never gave much thought. There was no need to. The mortality of others was something he didn't care about. You weren't supposed to be kept long. You were merely a sacrifice, meant to appease Sukuna, and in turn he wouldn't raze your village. While young, and pretty, not good enough to save your people. He planned on fucking you, burning your village to the ground, then eating you. Not necessarily in that order, but that was the plan.

He's taken everything from you. Your home, your life, your family. Even as you were forced to face your fate, you never gave in, never lost your bite. You defied him and lived. You had a malicious streak in you. You were never as sweet and as innocent as the people of your village first played you up to be. Years later you still put up the same fight. It's a constant back and forth between you two.

You’d never be able to hurt him. As much as you'd scratch and bite, you'd never so much as draw blood. Harming the King of Curses was not an easy task.

His 'love' was much more material at first. As you got settled down, survived more than a week, gifts appeared. Jeweled hair pins and beautiful, expensive kimonos appeared. All made just for you. He'd never admit to being behind it. You were not complacent, but you were comfortable. You were his spoiled pet. That didn't stop you from clawing at his eyes whenever he picked you up when you didn't want to be touched. Being spoiled didn't make you nice.

None of his pets have lasted quite as long as you have. At least eight times the trees of his estate have shriveled and turned brown in winter, and the ground has hardened with frost. At least eight times they've bloomed and have had the life of spring breathed back into them, and the ground has thawed and turned muddy. You just did what you had to in order to survive. You've more than just survived. Some would say you’ve thrived. You would beg to differ. If you were the begging type.

He still views you as a pet. You’re human after all. Though sometimes it feels like you’re becoming more curse than human. Being viewed as an equal to him is impossible, but he values you. You're not something that can easily be replaced.

His hand touches your shoulder from behind. You don't flinch. You used to flinch. Then you started swinging. You're never able to hurt him. You're strong, but not that strong.

"She was far too frail to eat," you say, "I assumed you didn't want to keep her for that."

You don't eat human meat. Or try not to. Early on in your stay, before you knew better… It wasn't pork. Uraume was a wonderful cook, but not for anything you ate. Personally it's not your thing. Non-human meat is hard to come by around here, so you’ve stopped eating the stuff altogether. If you wanted it, Sukuna would make a servant get it for you, but you are content without it.

"You made the right call." He says. You always do.

He slips beside you, watching as you remove the intricate pins from your hair. You always loved your hair. Even at your darkest moment you took great care of it. It was a source of pride for you.

A wave of nausea rolls over you. Sweat beads in your hairline, rolling down your back, under the thin fabric of your—his—robe. You have little need for clothes. It doesn't get that cold here. Sukuna tears them off you anyway. Covering yourself up isn't necessary, but you do it out of modesty, and a sense of normalcy. You protest as he pulls at the fastenings of your robe, the flimsy fabric pooling at your feet. You have no plans on getting wet, you’d much rather go to bed. You’re tired, and you don't want to be bothered.

The tub is large enough to fit several of you. You guess it's fitting. The man is huge. He settles into the water behind you, pulling you to his chest. Try as you will, you’re not going to be able to struggle out of his grip. You’re too tired to put up much of a fight, though you do complain.

One of his sets of arms wraps around you, effectively trapping you in place. The other pulls a washcloth from the side of the tub, into the water with you. As much as you hate to admit it, the warm water feels nice against your sore muscles.

Sukuna is not a sentimental man. But with the way his hands trace across your skin, soft, lovingly, like he’s reading a book of braille, makes you think otherwise. He doesn't leer at the curves of your body like he normally does. His eyes scan across your body, looking for any sign of injury.

When he deems you clean enough, and your skin has turned a nice shade of pink from the hot water, he lets you go. You're the first to get out, drying yourself off. You never realized how cold the room was before.

He hauls you into his arms. You do little to protest, which worries him.

The King of Curses has no need for sleep. The bed mostly serves for asthetic purposes, though he's not opposed to fucking you across any flat surface, you seem to favor softer ones.

Much like the tub, his bed is large enough to fit several of you. You feel dwarfed by its size. The man is huge, he needs a bed to fit. You could sprawl out as wide as possible and never have any of your limbs hanging over the sides.

He follows you, silent.

He can't recall ever letting any of his pets share his bed before. Some have tried. Tried. He can't recall any of them surviving as long as you have, either. He finds himself irritated at the thought of anything bad ever happening to you.

He doesn't join you in bed.

He doesn't need sleep the same way humans do. He can, but if he were to decide not to, it would bring no harm to him. He used to never dream. It was something he did, back when he was human, but that time has long passed. But whenever he dreamed, he’d wake up next to you. Experiences like that made him realize just why humans like to sleep so much. Before he never woke up rested; he was never tired in the first place.

You shove the covers aside and crawl underneath. They smell like him. He snubs out the candle burning on the side table with his index finger and thumb. Though it's dark, there’s enough light in the room to make out his much-larger form.

You shiver, although sweat forms along your skin in a thin sheen. Sukuna knows it's not cold. He sits on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. The back of his hand presses to your forehead. You’re burning up.

You were warm before, but he thought it was because of the bath. He’s not really sure what to do. It's rare moments like these that he's forced to face your mortality. He knows you're fragile—compared to him—but he can't bear the thought of something bad happening to you.

One of his large hands moves to cup your cheek. It's just as warm as your forehead. The pad of his thumb runs across your cheekbone.

"Stay with me." You say. You stretch your arms out towards him, making grabbing motions with your hands.

You’re not one to beg. Even when faced with death, you look it straight in the eyes. Call it bravery, or lack of self preservation. He admired that about you. You ignored your mortality because it did not matter to you.

“What's the matter, pet?”

“I don't feel too good.” You say.

Though he doesn't say it, he can tell.

“I’ll get Uraume-”

“No,” your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him back towards your chest, “no. I’m okay.”

He settles down beside you in bed, on top of the covers. When he opens his arms, you go right into them. He makes sure to keep the blankets tucked around you. Sukuna runs warm naturally. You huddle close to him, trying to steal his warmth. Though your face feels abnormally warm, you shiver. His much larger body lays partially on top of yours, his head resting on your chest, ear pressed to your skin. He can hear your heartbeat. Steady, and alive. Something low in your chest rattles when you breathe.

He should get a servant to bring you water, or some tea. It occurs to him how little he knows about the mundane things humans do to make themselves feel better. Not that he ever needed to care. In all the years you’ve been by his side, he’s never seen anything like this happen. He can't decide, and instead calls for both. If you need medicine, he’ll get that too, but you don't seem to be at that point. Uraume knows more about humans than he does. He’s no doctor, but he’ll work. If he asks you, you’ll just say you’re fine.

He holds the cup up to you, beckoning you to drink. The glass is cold against your lips. Even as your hands wrap around it, he doesn't let it go. He sets the empty glass on the side table with a soft thunk.

His large hand smoothes over your head, brushing your hair out of your eyes. His nails feel nice against your scalp. Nothing about the man is soft, but when he’s left alone with you, moments like this are bound to happen. You allow yourself to be pet. The heat, combined with the weight of his body, threatens to lull you off to sleep. The ache in your joints keeps you from doing so.

When he kisses you, you taste like a curse.

[wakaoujisenhime]

Hello! Lots of love to you. 😘 can I request GoM+ Takao thinks reader is going to breakup with them but is actually not. It can be funny misunderstanding or angst anything really. Happy ending.

A/N: Lots of kisses for you my dear anon! 💋 I tried to keep them all the same length, but guess what?? I failed (✌︎ ՞ਊ ՞)✌︎ Hope you’ll enjoy these nonetheless!! <33

Tags: GoM and Takao x reader ✅ SFW ✅ fluff ✅ angst ✅ jealousy ✅

image/art source: Takao -> Pixiv (by もいさま)

━━━━☆ ━━━━☆ ━━━━☆

Kuroko:

Being in a relationship with Kuroko was filled with nothing but tranquility and love. The two of you rarely had any type of conflict with each other, but one very urgent problem you’d always had in mind was the lack of communication. Because your boyfriend was so silent and barely complained whenever something was amiss, you tended to misunderstand each other…

One morning after you’d entered Seirin’s school building, you immediately caught a glimpse of your blue-haired boyfriend, and just as you were about to go up to him and greet him with your usual hug, he wordlessly turned his back to you and disappeared in the crowd. His behavior was quite unusual, but you figured that he just didn’t see you and went on with your day.

Unfortunately, the young man kept showing you the cold shoulder on that day, and by the end of his team’s basketball training, he’d even gone back home before you.

“Did something between you two happen?” asked Kagami as soon as he saw your dejected reaction to the unexpected news. Your grip on your school bag’s rims tightened and you simply shook your head.

“Not that I’m aware of anything…”

“Then why don’t you just ask him?”

His teammates stared daggers at the tall young man who had once again said something insensitive, but to you, it was a simple summary of the constant problem between your lover and yourself, so you couldn’t help but giggle at his question and nod.

——

Just where have you hidden yourself Tetsu?!

Annoyance had distorted your usually calm facial features and was chasing away any of your classmates that hoped to approach you for whatever reasons. After Kagami had given you the necessary push you needed, you made it your mission to find your lover and confront him once and for all, but he was nowhere to be found. No matter who you asked, where you went, what you did, it was as if he never came to school. At times such as these, his low presence proved to be pretty useful and a damn nightmare for you, but you stayed vigilant and even decided to make use of some…unexpected tactics.

During the second break, you sprinted to your lover’s classroom, knowing fully well that he was already gone, and called for his partner, who only very reluctantly agreed to accompany you during your search. The plan you’d forged relied entirely on Kagami’s strong presence that - according to his teammates - was so strong that even the people who saw him daily couldn’t help but stare at him. You knew that Kuroko was more or less immune to this and preferred to look down at his book, so you were positive that with this plan you’d find the odd one out of the crowd pretty easily.

Luckily for you, the plan was a success and after just a couple of minutes you’d caught sight of the familiar blue hair, but when you locked eyes with your loved one, a sharp pain ran through your chest. Kuroko looked heartbroken and had to bite his lip to hide his anger and tears.

“(Y/N), this is your chance! Go! Run!”

The unexpected encouragement from the man next to you managed to wake you up from your trance and not even a second later you were running after your lover. Fortunately for you, he wasn’t that quick and on top of that, you were convinced that he ran extra slower than usual because somewhere deep inside of him he wanted to talk to you as well.

“(Y/N)…I-”

“We can’t continue like this Tetsu,” you began and intended to take a small breather before you continued, but the anxious face of your counterpart made you reconsider, “what I mean to say is, that we can’t ignore our constant misunderstandings due to miscommunication. I love you Tetsuya and whenever I am with you everything is nearly perfect, but we need to do something about your aversion of expressing your opinion and my reluctance to speak up about it.”

You couldn’t blame him for being so surprised that he couldn’t answer instantly since you surprised even yourself with how direct you were. Just as you were about to break the uncomfortable silence between you two, Kuroko unexpectedly wrapped his arms around you in a hug.

“Thank god…I thought you wanted to leave me for Kagami-kun.”

“Excuse me, what? Why would I-” you stopped for a moment and remembered the scene he saw just a couple of minutes ago before you corrected him, “…I needed his help to find you, since all of my earlier attempts were futile against the legendary Phantom Sixth man, you know?”

And with that small joke, you both chuckled, kissed each other, and decided to spent the rest of the break hand-in-hand, while you resolved the small thorn in your relationship.

Kise:

Being Kise’s lover was pretty tiresome and restricting. Since he was a famous model a lot of rules had to be followed by not only him but you as well.

Any selfies you took are not to be shared with anyone and not to be published. Bragging about him as your boyfriend was out of the question. Public dates? I think not.

When his manager had first thrown all of these at you, you were pretty stomped and ready to burst with anger, but he stopped you and after your talk, Kise reassured you that you would still do the majority of the things “normal” couples do, but you’d simply have to be more careful and aware of your surroundings than others. You trusted him of course and he didn’t lie, in fact, he made an enormous effort to provide you with a proper love life, one that you deserved. Much to your surprise, everything was working out just fine and you got used to the abnormalities of some situations pretty quickly, but as we all know life can rarely be filled with nothing but sunshine and rainbows…

-` EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW WITH MODEL №1 KISE RYOUTA ´-

That was the headline of one of the many magazines your boyfriend was featured in. You always made sure to show your support for his career by buying almost every issue that had a section dedicated to your blond lover, that and the fact that the photographers and designers always made him look hotter than he already was. With a big grin on your face, you browsed the magazine until you found the corresponding pages and began reading yet another interview.

At first, the questions were pretty standard and tame, asking the young model what his future plans were, how he manages school, basketball club, and modeling without being stressed out at all, and many more similar questions such as these. Being his significant other, you caught a few lies of his that he had to make up in order to keep your relationship a secret and even though it didn’t sit entirely right with you, you brushed it off since you knew that he couldn’t help it. With mixed feelings, you read on until one particular question and answer caught your eye.

-` Q: A lot of your female fans have been constantly speculating about what type of boyfriend you’d make, what’s your take on that subject?

-` A: (laughs) Well you see, I hate to break it to everyone, but I like the type of women that don’t tie me down. I just can’t imagine myself being with the same person every single day, it’d be quite suffocating, you know?

You stared at that answer for a while, hoping that the words would just merge into something that didn’t sound so…ruthless, but to no avail. Just as you were about to continue your lecture, the front door to your apartment opened and the familiar voice of your lover echoed, filling your home with more life than before. While the blond removed his shoes and jacket you quickly hid away the magazine and forced yourself to smile, hoping that he wouldn’t notice…

——

“You damn idiot, what were you thinking?!”

“Oh (Y/N)…what do you even see in him?”

“I have never been more pissed off to be in the same team as you…”

The moment Kise had entered the gym to participate in today’s training all of his teammates had surrounded him and had begun reprimanding him for something he couldn’t quite understand because of how chaotic everyone was. It took a while, but when they became more or less calm he used to chance to find out just what’s got them so pissed off.

“Isn’t it obvious you imbecile?! That over the top answer of yours is what we’re so mad about”

“Kasamatsu-senpai I can’t quite follow…what answer are you referring to?”

After being kicked down by the shorter man and lectured yet another time, Kise finally understood just what this fuss was about. You’d been quite out of it since his latest interview got published, so the guys decided to find out what had you so bothered and the answer was, of course, Kise…who else?

“B-But I didn’t mean it! It was just for show an–”

“Does (Y/N) know?” interrupted Moriyama with an unusually serious tone. Your lover intended to answer fully confident that you were aware, but a small voice inside of his mind stopped him in his tracks. How were you supposed to know that he didn’t mean it when he never explained himself? What if the reason you’d been so absentminded these past few days was that you were planning on leaving him?

N-No…I can’t let that happen…i-if we break up then what am I–

“Excuse me, is Kise here?”

At the unexpected sound of your voice all of the members instantly shut up, turning to you, but before anyone could answer you, the blond took off sprinting right towards you and wrapping his muscular arms around your body.

“Please forgive me (Y/N)-cchi, I…I figured we’d been over this and that you know that no matter what I say to the press, I never really mean it. It’s all supposed to be a façade to make me more attractive to the public, b-but you know me, right? The real, insecure, weak, and ambitious me…the one that’s no good without you…”

Even if he’d taken you by surprise with his sudden hug, his words rendered you pretty much immobile and left you with no choice but to listen to his desperate apology. He held you tighter and buried his face in the crack of your neck. The moment you felt something wet drip down on your clothing, you wrapped your arms around him protectively, gently caressing his head, and kissing his temple all the while he whispered one apology after the other, begging you to never leave his side.

“I won’t ever leave you, Kise…I promise”

Midorima:

“…and with that, we’re coming to today’s last and unfortunately most unluckiest signs of all…Cancer!”

At the sudden announcement, Midorima flinched, grip tightening on his iPod, as he continued listening to his daily horoscope. His sign being the unluckiest out of all was quite the rarity and that alone was worrisome, but the fact that today’s misfortune was predicted to be in his love life made the man the more afraid. Usually, he’d ignore any prognosis that went beyond his career, but the moment you had become his girlfriend, Midorima couldn’t help but lend an ear every time the presenter of his favorite show mentioned the word love.

Your lover’s flame for you has been near extinction, I suggest breaking up with them before they do, or else this pain will haunt you for eternity…

With heavy steps, the green-haired man made his way to his school, lucky item in hand and a never before experienced fear deeply rooted in his heart. If possible he’d try to avoid you as much as possible today, so that you couldn’t break things off with him. He was aware that his behavior was quite over the top, but that was his way to cope with the anxiety of losing you - his most important person. In Midorima’s eyes this was a solid plan, but putting it into action was harder than expected.

Every time you jogged up to him with your angelic smile, your big and beautiful eyes that sparkled the moment you saw him, the energetic way you waved to your boyfriend when you spotted him across the hallway were so adorable and heart-warming that whenever he had to act extra cold towards you, it felt like his heart was being torn apart anew every single time. While he was beating himself up over his behavior, you simply shrugged it off and figured that he was on his usual tsundere trip for some reason and decided to ask him about it after basketball practice.

“Shin-chan sure is acting weird today, huh?” asked Takao with a hint of amusement in his voice as he sat down next to you on a bench in the courtyard. You simply looked up at him and nod with resigned smile on your face as you answered: “I’m somehow used to his antics, but something must’ve happened for him to act so…distant.”

The boy next to you studied your expression and despite his usual enjoyment of watching a misunderstanding between the two of you unfold, he could see how much the green-haired man’s behavior was weighing on you, so he broke his silence and told you about Midormia’s plan that he’d schemed following today’s horoscope.

——

“Midorima Shintarou, we need to talk…now!”

Your loud and sudden order startled the young man in gym clothes, who was mere movements away from throwing his umpteenth three-pointer, as well as his teammates. If it weren’t for the serious tone in your voice, he would’ve come up with some kind of excuse to dodge the upcoming conversation.

Now that the two of you were outside of the gym you didn’t beat around the bush and got straight to the point: “Are you seriously avoiding me all day because of Oha Asa’s words? Is that how little you believe in me and my feelings for you?” Your boyfriend never quite knew how to deal with such straightforwardness and seeing how with each question you uttered, the tears in the corners of your eyes grew, pushed him even further into a corner until he couldn’t handle it anymore and just needed to shut you up. Out of nowhere Midorima took a tight hold of your shoulders, seizing your frantic movements, and pressed his lips firmly to yours, kissing you in the process.

“…now that I finally have your attention, allow me to explain myself, will you?” he asked and waited for your nod before he continued “Look…I know I overreacted and to be honest, my behavior bothered me more than you think. I was just…j-just so afraid to lose you. Up until now everything Oha Asa said came true, s-so–”

Before he could finish his sentence, it was your turn to kiss him on the lips and use his moment of confusion to stop the train of negative thoughts that were about to overwhelm him. “I love you Shintarou…more than any horoscope could ever hope to calculate and sure, every time you listen to this show it all comes true, but did you forget that my sign is on that show as well?”

Your sudden question caught him a little of guard, but the moment you pulled something small out of your pocket he couldn’t help but smile to himself as a light blush spread across his cheeks.

“Unfortunately for you, today is my lucky day and your beloved presenter advised me to be more assertive than what I’m used to, and show my lover just how much he means to me.”

Aomine:

With quick steps, you neared the basketball club’s gym while frantically looking around for your boyfriend, who’d once again decided to ditch today’s training and laze around somewhere.

“Captain, we might have a problem!” you shouted out the moment you entered the building, ready to break the unpleasant news to the young man in glasses, who looked surprisingly relaxed, even though one of his best players was missing yet again. But before you could even say anything he simply put his hand up, motioning you to look behind him with his head, and there you saw the wanted man, crouched down while reading something.

With a heavy sigh, you joined Imayoshi and Wakamatsu, who was looking at the power forward with hopeless and annoyed expressions. After explaining to them that you couldn’t find him at his usual spots, you asked how they got him to join practice that quick.

“Oh you know…the usual” the blond said as he tapped a few times on his mobile phone, searching for something, and the moment he found it, he showed you the typical photo with which they always managed to catch Aomine: one of his favorite gravure magazines being held above a candle’s flame. You eyed the image a tad longer than what the men next to you were used to and then replied drily: “I see.”

The two players you were standing next to, were quite surprised by your reaction and couldn’t tear their eyes from your back as you walked towards the bench where their coach and manager were seated. They wanted to brush it off at first but the moment you had sat yourself down, your sad expression managed to guilt-trip them to such an extent that they immediately walked to the dark-skinned young man to lecture him.

“Aomine, you idiot, stop reading these things already!”

Said man didn’t even flinch at the sudden scream from the blond and continued looking through his magazine. Wakamatsu was already agitated enough and ready to throw punches at his sitting teammate, but the captain stopped him with an unobtrusive head-shake and took his chance not short after: “Ya see…your cute girlfriend’s over ‘ere and she looks mighty disappointed at the fact that ‘er boyfriend gives some random women more love ‘n attention than ya give ‘er. If ya keep that up, then who knows what could happen.”

It didn’t take much to annoy or upset your boyfriend and if you were as tactful as Imayoshi, you could do it whenever you felt like it, but this time he intended to make the man before him aware of what seemed to be a minor problem.

The two of them watched as Aomine finally closed his magazine and stood up, a terrifying glare fixated on the wall before him, and hissed out: “My relationship with (Y/N) has nothing to do with you, so don’t even butt your noses where they don’t belong.” He turned and just as he was about to leave and enter the practice match, he stood beside the man with glasses and stared at him with the same amount of bloodlust he had whenever he faced a strong opponent, and whispered: “Call her cute one more time and see what happens, captain”

——

What the hell is going on?

With a furious expression and gritted teeth, Aomine’s eyes followed your frantic movements in annoyance. He watched how you held Sakurai’s hands and whispered something to him to calm him down, how Wakamatsu ruffled your hair as thanks for bringing him a bottle of his favorite drink and a towel, and how Susa and Imayoshi patted your back while praising you. Today was the first time he actually noticed this, but now everything was making sense.

Since the beginning of this week, Momoi told him that she’d be away for two weeks and couldn’t manage the team in that timeframe. Her childhood friend wasn’t interested, so he didn’t ask any further details such as why she going away or who’d take her place for the time being, but now he wished he would’ve.

During her absence, he didn’t receive any of those dreadful SMS and for the first few days, he was living his life, skipping every single practice day. He did ask you a couple of times whether you wanted to ditch your class and come hang out with him, but he got rejected pretty quickly. Additionally, he rarely asked you out himself so the lack of messages from you wasn’t surprising to him, of course until he heard some of the substitute players comment something about how well you were doing your job as temporary manager.

“So that’s why you were so busy, huh?” he asked in his typical monotone voice the moment you had come back to the bench where he and the coach had taken place. Without sparing him even a single glance you took your clipboard and began explaining something to the older man. Seeing how you ignored him, paired with your cold attitude made Aomine involuntarily remember his captain’s words.

If ya keep that up, then who knows what could happen.

Your conversation with the coach was quickly wrapped up and not soon after just the two of you were left sitting on the bench. Your boyfriend’s deep blue eyes glanced briefly at you and observed how you were writing something in a small pink notebook that most likely belonged to Momoi. He never considered the fact that you would actually lose interest in him or perhaps even break up with him, but your recent behavior change matched exactly that and it scared him more than he let on.

The moment you finished writing and intended to pack everything up, a big hand took a gentle hold of your wrist. Slightly startled and taken aback you looked at the man beside you, who was covering his lower face area as he murmured something that only you managed to hear and understand.

Please don’t go…d-don’t leave me

A small smile slowly adorned your lips as you took his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers, and squeezing it ever so slightly. You figured that the reason he was hiding his face was because of the blush that had painted his cheeks in a shade of dark red. An unusual but very welcome sight as well as a great reward for the plan the entire team had come up with alongside you. The goal? Teaching your lover a small lesson that he’s surely not forgetting that quick.

Mission accomplished…

Murasakibara:

“Hey Atsushi, my friend told me they’d be opening a new store in–“

“Mmm…I don’t wanna go (Y/N)-chin”

You were stunned at the sudden refusal of your boyfriend even before you’d finished your sentence and couldn’t help but giggle to yourself as you looked at his slightly annoyed face.

Of course, he’d say that…

And with that prompt rejection, the conversation between you two died down and you wordlessly continued watching the movie you’d put on for tonight, while gently caressing the purple head of the large man who was using your thighs as a pillow.

——

“Eh? You rejected (Y/N)’s invitation again?” asked the black-haired young man while he handed his gigantic friend a tissue for his sticky fingers. With a slightly annoyed glare, Murasakibara snatched the handkerchief from him and hurriedly removed the honey residuals from the snacks he had finished a couple of minutes ago, before answering: “Of course I would…I’m not in the mood to go shopping for hours in this heat.”

The man’s laziness never failed to surprise Himuro everyone who has ever talked to him was aware of his quirks and despite it all, no one has ever left his side. The same goes for you as well. Since the first time you’d seen him, your heart already belonged to him. It was easier to pursue him than you’d expected since his team liked you very much and always helped you out by telling you about his schedule or when he’d come to practice. He was pretty cute once you got to know him better and unbeknownst to you, he had also fallen in love with everything about you. Your smile, the adorable way you tried to follow his basketball practice, the way you panicked when he told you that he didn’t like the type of candy you’d picked out, and everything else about you made his heart thump hard against his chest.

“You know Atsushi…if you keep your indifferent attitude up, your relationship might end pretty soon.”

“W-What do you mean…?”

With a perplexed expression on his face, Himuro took a glance at his friend who had panic written all over him, and reluctantly explained how you could feel neglected by him, or even think of leaving him because he seemingly doesn’t want to spend time with you. The purple-haired young man opened his mouth, wanting to protest but anything he said was immediately rebutted by his friend who told him that he was the wrong person to tell this to, and with that, Murasakibara sprinted out of the room. His destination: your home.

——

You were just out of the shower and preparing yourself to go to bed, when suddenly the doorbell starts ringing furiously, scaring you in the process. With a thumping heart and silent steps, you made your way to your door and took a glance at your peephole, needing less than a second to recognize just who had decided to spontaneously visit you this late at night.

“Atsushi, what are–”

“I’m sorry (Y/N)-chin, please don’t leave me! I-I promise I will go to that store reopening with you a-and to any other event you’d like, I’ll even do it without you having to buy me over with sweets, just–”

Thrown aback as you were, you took a tight hold of Murasakibara’s arms, squeezing them while you screamed at him to hold on and stop talking. Despite your reassuring words it took him a good while to calm down, so you made use of it and prepared some soft drinks, and put a couple of his favorite snacks in a rotating multi bowl set. After putting everything down on the small table in your living room, you got your boyfriend his favorite blanket, covering him with it, and finally sat down next to him.

“Now then, I’m almost afraid to ask you this, but…why are you pleading with me to not leave you?”

With his big and almost puppy-like eyes, he looked at you and asked with a slightly trembling voice: “S-So you really w-want to l-leave me?”

“Heavens no! Who even gave you that idea?”

The moment these few words left your lips, the tension finally left the young man’s body and he slumped back on your couch with a relieved sigh, whispering a silent thank god before massaging his closed eyes. You had never seen your lover being as worried as tonight and you figured that whatever has been bothering him must’ve been quite serious, and that made you in fact even more curious than before. Despite that, you figured you’d wait for him to start his explanation, or at least that was what you’d planned, but after a couple of minutes of nothing but silence, you decided to speak up and reassure him first.

“I’m not quite sure what happened, but it seems like you’re feeling bad for refusing my invite from some days ago, and well…I was kinda disappointed about not being able to go with you there, but I’ve known you for so long now and truth be told, I was prepared for such an answer so I’m not pissed off or anything, you know? You’re just the type of person to prefer staying indoors while lazing around…that’s just how you are and how I love you, so…”

You got embarrassed after a while and the young man’s missing reactions didn’t make it any better, so you eventually stopped mid-sentence and called out to him.

Silence.

“Atsushi…?”

You put your hand on his shoulder and gently shook him, causing his arm with which he was covering his eyes to fall to the side, revealing his slightly puffy eyes and sleeping face.

D-Did he…fall asleep…?

Who would’ve thought that your reassurance alone would have such an impact on him and cause him to fall asleep?

You giggled to yourself and gently caressed some strands of his hair away from his face, giving him a soft kiss on his cheek as you silently wished him a pleasant nap. A few seconds passed during which you contemplated whether you should go to your room or snuggle up to him, you picked the latter and as carefully as possible, leaned your head on his shoulder, closed your eyes, and missed the small smile that adorned Murasakibara’s lips.

Akashi:

Akashi usually isn’t one to get jealous of other people, since he is quite confident that there is no one better suited for you but him. And yet whenever he sees how you talk to Mayuzumi he can’t help but feel a tight pain in his chest and notice how his mood instantly drops. He’d immediately turn away from the sight of the two of you and go somewhere else, preferably the gym where he can either let his frustrations out on the ball or on some of the unmotivated basketball club members. When you were close to him during one of his bad days he was prone to behaving rather rude and harsh and even though he regrets it seconds after opening his mouth he just can’t stop himself. One day though, he truly lost it.

Everything was seemingly going well and then he saw both Mayuzumi and you come in the gym together, hand in hand, laughing, and worst of it all: you were blushing. The red-haired young man watched how his upperclassman helped you sit down on the bench and the way you two looked at each other made the captain feel sick. That’s when a certain thought entered his mind.

What if (Y/N) is planning on breaking up with me for….

While you laughed alongside the older member of the basketball club, you noticed out of the corner of your eyes the way Akashi approached you two and immediately sprung up to calm him down. “S-Sei, please calm yourself down!” you pleaded as you held onto his wrists, but no matter what you said he wasn’t listening, he only had eyes for the man behind you.

Out of desperation you wrapped your arms around the slightly trembling body of your boyfriend and began whispering how nothing was going on between the two of you, how Mayuzumi had only helped you reach the gym since you had sprained your ankle on the way, and how he had teased you for loving the captain too much. As if released from some sort of spell, the young man came back to his senses and returned your embrace in slight confusion. While you were quick to forgive and forget the sudden snap of your boyfriend, the grey-haired man behind you wasn’t in the mood to just forget how the first-year would’ve stabbed him with a ballpen if it weren’t for you. Luckily the other main team members came to calm their teammate down, while you excused yourself, took Akashi by the hand, and went out for a walk to help him calm down.

——

Holding tightly onto your boyfriend’s hand you dragged him off to a more remote area where you could properly talk to each other and resolve any type of doubts that seemed to sprout inside of his already restless mind as a sudden and unexpected whisper caught you off guard. You halted mid-step, turning to the young man behind you, and asked him to repeat what he’d just said.

After a short moment of reluctance, he nodded and did as asked. “I’m sorry for losing myself back there.” His sudden apology caught you quite off guard and made you forget your initial plan. The Akashi you knew rarely showed such enormous remorse for his actions, he might have finally found inner peace with himself and his insecurities, but that didn’t mean that he was now a completely changed man who’d thrown his entire pride away. Not being able to hold back your curiosity, you asked why he felt the need to apologize.

“The way I was ready to lash out at someone older than me, in the same way, I did with Kagami back then was uncalled for…not only that but your expression,” he paused, softly caressing your cheek and continued with a silent voice “that fearful expression you had when you saw me…I-I don’t want to see it ever again.”

Now I get it…

A sad smile adorned your lips as you squeezed his hand tighter. You were secretly thankful for his small outburst right now because it showed you not only that he indeed loved you as much as he usually told you, but also that despite his perfectionism he was very much flawed. He was afraid of losing you and equally afraid of you hating him for expressing these worries. Without saying anything you wrapped your arms around him in a hug and held him tightly as soon as he’d returned your embrace.

“Seijuro…please don’t try to tackle every worry you have on your own. That’s why we are a couple, right? Anything that bothers you, no matter how trivial or serious it is, please share it with me instead of tackling that burden on your own, ok..?”

His sharp yet beautiful eyes looked directly into your own before he leaned his forehead on your shoulder and murmured: “I know, it’s just…I’m still not used to having someone so dependable as you by my side, offering me so much support that I don’t know what to do with it.”

You giggled at his statement and kissed his head, thankful that you had more or less resolved one part of his issues, but more than anything you were happy that from now on he’d involve you more in his worries and problems.

Takao:

Everyone from Shuutoku warned you multiple times that being lovers with Takao would cause you to have severe trust issues and you didn’t believe them at first, but after a couple of weeks, you finally understood their warnings. The lively young man was surprisingly a jokester and tended to take certain things not serious enough for your preference, but since it was a part of his personality, that you’d fallen in love with, you decided to overlook it for the majority of the time.

Usually, his jokes were kinda misplaced and sometimes even more sympathy-inducing than fun, but they never failed to make you crack even the smallest of smiles. But lately, though his jokes started focusing on love and were constantly dealing with the topic of breakup or cheating and it made you quite anxious and hurt that he took these two so lightly without considering your feelings.

Day after day you put up with them until you just couldn’t take it anymore and interrupted him, saying that he should just stop talking for a moment. You were so agitated that you failed to notice his taken aback expression.

“Hey (Y/N)-chan, you do know that I’m just joking, right? There’s no need for you to take it seriously!”

There he goes again with the same excuse…

The young man attempted to take your hand in his, an usual gesture he made every time he upset you, but right now this was the last thing you needed. When his slender fingers brushed yours, you slapped his hand away.

“Not this time Kazu-chan…I’m sorry” you whispered and hurried off, leaving your boyfriend behind who was blown away by your reaction.

——

A few days passed since your little outburst and you’d been avoiding Takao ever since, afraid of being confronted with what you’d told him. You felt bad of course for treating him like that, but you were just not ready to talk to him yet and needed some time to come to terms with your thoughts first.

“What’s with you two always gluing yourselves on me whenever you have some kind of problem?” asked the green-haired young man who you’d forced to stay by your side since then. You responded with a giggle and told him that thanks to his confident behavior and direct words you felt placid and could sort your thoughts in peace. He simply sighed and looked at his lucky item for today, a silver ring with a small green jewel, which he’d once again gotten from his captain, who told him that it was yet another merch of his favorite idol.

“You shouldn’t avoid Takao so much. We both know that he makes jokes to hide away his insecurities and weaknesses and what do you think might happen if he sees us right now?”

He’s…right

You bit your lower lip and slumped forward, leaning your elbows on your thighs as you nodded a couple of times. Nothing good would come out of you brooding over this on your own and having Midorima with you wouldn’t make your little “fight” with Takao just disappear. Seeing you so lost in thought, the young man behind you had an idea, one that he didn’t entirely like, but right now all he wanted was to make you feel better, so he swallowed his pride and handed you the ring.

“Take it…i-it’s not like I’m giving it to you forever s-since it’s not mine and all…b-but Oha Asa said t-that Scorpio might need some k-kind of symbol o-of…love so” he stuttered as he held out his hand, the fragile ring between his bandaged fingers. You were at a loss for words at his gesture and all you could do was whisper out his name in surprise.

“Shin-chan! What do you think you’re doing?!”

Suddenly someone took a hold of your slightly outstretched arm and tugged on it, causing you to stand up and fall against their chest. You looked at the face of the person and it was none other than Takao who was glaring at his friend through glassy eyes. As if bitten by a bug Midorima jumped up and began protecting himself, but all you could focus on was the man who had his arms wrapped tightly around your body. While the two men insulted each other and bickered you realized just how stupid this entire situation was and couldn’t help but smile.

You placed your hand on your boyfriend’s cheek and turned his head, so that he was now facing you, and kissed him, shutting both of them up almost instantly. It took the young man a shot while to return your kiss, but when he did he also took the opportunity to properly embrace you.

“I’m sorry for overreacting Kazu-chan, it’s just that I-”

“No, don’t apologize (Y/N), I know I went too far this time. You know I love you more than anything else in this world and that I’ll never think about leaving you.”

The smile that adorned your lips widened as you nodded energetically and reassured him that your love for him is also one that will most likely last forever.

While you two made up, smiling at each other, the green-haired young man looked at the ring and grinned to himself.

I knew it…Oha Asa is never wrong