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slytherinslut0 · 7 months

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MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter Twenty Four-Info:you and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

Tags: 18+, Dirty Talk, ANGST ANGST ANGST, Kissing, Childhood Trauma, Slight!GunPlay(very slight), More Angst, Sadism, Slight Emotional Manipulation.

Find the rest of the chapters HERE.

Your fingers glided gently across the pages of your open book, tracing the lines of text as if seeking to absorb the knowledge directly into your skin. The ambient hush of the library enveloped you, punctuated only by the soft rustle of pages turning and the occasional murmur of voices in the distance. It was a haven of tranquility, a sanctuary where you could finally turn your thoughts off and allow yourself to get lost within the words of the text.

In this cocoon of silence, you immersed yourself, your eyes traversing the lines on the page with a voracious hunger for understanding. The atmosphere was thick with the scent of old parchment and the subtle aroma of polished wood, creating a sensory symphony that enhanced your focus. But amidst this serenity, an abrupt disruption shattered your concentration. The creak of a chair being pulled out and the faint sound of footsteps approached, heralding an unexpected presence.

Startled, your eyes lifted from the text to find Mattheo seated across from you--his dark, penetrating gaze drilled into yours, his eyes narrowed with a glaring suspicion as he analyzed your features, slowly and cautiously--not daring to speak. The sudden intrusion in such a public setting caught you off guard; a mix of surprise and unease filling your lungs as you blinked, glancing around the room to ensure no attention had been drawn.

It had been two days since the events in the bathroom, two whole days where the conversations were as bland as a piece of raw fucking chicken, and yet, here he was. Without warning. You had no fucking clue what he was doing here, but the look in his eyes told you it wasn't for any particularly pleasant reason.

"When were you planning on informing me about your little friend's new companion, hm?" His voice sliced through the air like a blade, his eyes narrowing with sadism. "I mean...I just happened to stumble upon her leaving my brother's dorm, and I'd highly fucking doubt she was there for a casual browse through his book collection, wouldn't you agree?"

Your eyes widened in shock, nerves flooding through you like an icy tide, freezing your words in your throat. You had been meaning to tell him, but since the two of you had hardly been speaking, it seemingly slipped your mind.

You glanced around the room, as if searching for an escape from the intensity of his gaze, before finally managing to whisper, "Are you fucking serious right now? Why is that any bloody concern of yours?"

"I just find it utterly fascinating," he sneered, his voice dripping with dangerous intent as he leaned over the table, scuffing his chair toward you. "...the intricate web of secrets you weave, Raven...not very Ravenclaw of you, now is it?"

"How is that a secret?" you hissed, your voice laced with both irritation and trepidation. "And why would I care about Emily getting with Tom? I never had any feelings for-"

"Not talking about that," he interrupted, his tone sharp as he cut through your words. "I'm talking about everything, in a far more broad context...all of the willing little lies and deceit...all the ways you've used me, just as much, if not more, than I've used you...you even managed to outwit Tom, which is one hell of an impressive accomplishment all on its own, I'll give you that."

The oxygen in the room vanished, leaving you nearly gasping for breath. "I...outwit Tom?"

"Well, it was only thanks to his blaring review that you landed this mentorship, was it fucking not?..." he scanned your features, his brows pinching in focus. "Every calculated step you've taken, every deceptive move you've made, all orchestrated to extract what you wanted for your bloody career...it truly makes a man wonder..."

His words struck like a cold breeze, sending a chill down your spine as you struggled to process the weight of his insinuations--you were beyond startled by the pace of this conversation, each syllable from his lips landing like a punch to the gut, rendering your mouth mute.

"I..." his words had you reeling, your voice catching in your throat, your confidence shattered by his unsettling revelation. "What the hell are you implying, Mattheo?"

Your throat tightened as you struggled to maintain composure. Swallowing hard, you tried to play it off, squinting at him in an attempt to mask your anxiety. But his penetrating gaze saw through your facades, leaving you defenseless against his piercing scrutiny. Mattheo's movements were deliberate, each shift in his chair calculated to exude an air of intimidation and control. His eyes, sharp and predatory, followed your every reaction as if he were studying his prey before a calculated strike.

"I did some digging on you last night...on your background...what your parents do...since, you know, you clearly had no interest in telling me yourself..." a sinister smile played on his lips, his eyes gleaming with a sadistic satisfaction. His voice lowered to a barely audible murmur, laced with a sense of superiority. "After the night at the lake, after that little spat we had...I just...I just couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to you than met the eye...and boy was I ever fucking right.”

Letting his words sink in, he leaned back in his chair, that sickening grin still plastered across his face. As the realization of his words settled like a heavy stone in your chest, you grew increasingly uncomfortable, acutely aware of the other students nearby. Their presence, though not directly involved, added a layer of unease to the situation.

Leaning across the table, you whispered urgently, "Do you have to do this here?" The words escaped your lips in a hushed plea, your voice strained with the need for privacy and a shred of dignity. "Like at least-"

Mattheo's response was chillingly calm, his grin widening with malicious delight.

"Oh, princess, come on," he purred, his tone a twisted mockery of sweetness. "Why continue to hide the truth? Let them hear what kind of person you really are..."

Your anger surged, the intensity of your emotions making your fingers grip the book tightly as you leaned in closer to him.

"You're a despicable asshole, you know that?" you spat out, your voice edged with pure disdain. "What's your bloody angle here?"

"Never claimed otherwise, did I?" His tone was flat, devoid of any remorse; meeting your words with an infuriating calmness. "Unlike you, I don't pretend to be something I'm not."

Your eyes rolled so forcefully it felt like you were glimpsing the inside of your skull, a groan of frustration clawing at your throat. Of course, he chose this moment--a place where you had to hold back your torrent of emotions, where you couldn't unleash the full force of your anger upon him. He knew exactly what he was bloody doing here, and it was fucking infuriating.

"Enough with the games, Riddle," you snapped, the words escaping through clenched teeth, your patience stretched to its limit. "Stop being a bloody arse and spit it out already."

"Your family history," he said, leaning in so close that your eyes locked in a battle of wills, each glance a dagger threatening to pierce the other's resolve. "It isn't as pristine as one might think...in fact, I'd almost be inclined to say it's the complete fucking opposite."

Your entire body tensed, coiling like a tightly wound spring. There was a pause as you studied his face, trying to decipher exactly what he knew before responding.

"Careful, Mattheo," you retorted, your voice laced with a sharp edge. "Just because you've unearthed a few skeletons doesn't mean you've cleared the whole closet."

"Honestly, Raven, I'm just curious," his grin stretched wider, the atmosphere around him growing denser with an almost palpable tension. "How did you manage to play the part for so long? You certainly had me fooled...even managed to trick the sorting hat into believing your little fucking charade...it's quite impressive, truthfully..."

A knot tightened in the pit of your stomach, every nerve inside you screaming in turmoil. "I...I don't know what you're talking about-"

"Don't even bother," Mattheo's words cut through your feeble denial, and he tilted his head, his intensity thickening the air around you. "I see right fucking through you, now, princess...that innocent act won't work on me anymore..."

His eyes, like burning coals, seared into your skin as if trying to uncover hidden truths. The room seemed to close in around you, amplifying the weight of his accusation.

"Generation after generation of Pureblood fucking Slytherins..." he continued, his voice low and laced with feign exasperation. "And yet, here you are...apparently as Ravenclaw as they come...you've managed to make yourself so damn-near invisible that no one even fucking noticed..."

Your breath hitched, caught in the vice grip of his merciless scrutiny. The truth of his words hung heavily in the air, a damning revelation that sent a shiver down your spine. Your carefully constructed facade, your shield against the world, was crumbling, and Mattheo had managed to find the cracks, leaving you exposed and vulnerable in his piercing gaze.

"I'll admit, I feel rather idiotic for not piecing it together sooner..." he sneered, his tone cutting through the tension like a knife, hands curling into fists atop of the desk. "I guess I was too entranced by your starry-eyed facade to see the cunning Slytherin hiding beneath, even though it was right in front of my face this whole time...your biting sarcasm, your unrelenting ambition, and your overly-eager knack for deceit--classic fucking Slytherin traits, aren't they, Raven?"

Your entire being blazed with a searing heat, a tempest of conflicting emotions threatening to consume you. The urge to throttle him until he fell silent warred with a fierce desire to pull him close and lose yourself in a breathless kiss. How infuriating it was to witness his sharp wit, a talent he wielded effortlessly, yet one he seemed unwilling to apply to his fucking studies.

At your silence, he huffed, glimpsing your lips again. "Not even the stars can change the essence of who you are, princess." He whispered, a hint of mockery in his tone. "Maybe it's about time you were honest with yourself."

Your anger surged like a tidal wave, crashing against the shores of your restraint. In that charged moment, you leaned in closer, as close as you possibly could, your body practically vibrating with intensity. How dare he sit there, smug and superior, acting like he had unraveled the very fabric of your being just because he had dug up a few skeletons from your family's closet?

Sure, your parents weren't paragons of virtue, but their actions don't define you--and that was the very the essence of all this. Every choice you've made, every hardship you've endured, has been a deliberate effort to distance yourself from their toxic legacy. His derisive remarks only fueled the fire, and you practically hurled the words at him, your voice laden with disdain.

"You don't know a single fucking thing about me," you seethed, "all you fucking know is what the inside of my body feels like...don't you dare sit there and act like you've got me all figured out."

Your steps were purposeful as you pushed up and away from the table, leaving him sitting there, his words lingering in the air like a bitter aftertaste. You moved back into the library, the familiar scent of old books surrounding you like a protective barrier, but you knew it wouldn't shield you from the storm that was Mattheo bloody Riddle for long. No, that would be far too fucking easy.

And nothing about your situation with that boy was easy.

As you put your book back on the shelf, you felt his presence behind you, a suffocating weight pressing down on your shoulders as you reluctantly spun back around to face him.

"Why'd you do it, huh?" Mattheo's voice cut through the air like a razor, his narrowed eyes fixed on you as he backed you up against the shelf, his presence overwhelming. "Are you truly that ashamed of who you fucking are?"

"Mattheo," you spat, your fists clenching at your sides, the frustration boiling inside you. "Please, don't push it...if I wanted to tell you about that, I would have..."

"Yeah, you're ashamed," he sneered, dismissing your words with a cynical laugh, confirming his original point. "You're ashamed of where you come from...fuck, I always knew we were alike, but I never knew it'd be this much-"

"What the fuck is this? Some type of elaborate power-play move? Some type of big intimidation act to get me to tell you about my life?..." you snapped, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and pain. "If you wanted to know, why didn't you just ask me? Instead of fucking me every chance you got why didn't you try having a real conversation with me? Try actually opening up to me for once?"

"Even if I did..." he said, dropping his tone into a low whisper. "Would you have told me? You said it yourself that you don't fucking trust me..."

"What do you want to know, Riddle? Huh? You want me to tell you how I grew up in a mansion full of emptiness? How my parents were never around and I was left with my cold, reserved grandmother, who cared more about her fucking butler than me?...or maybe you want to know about how I was raised in a world of expectations, forced to be perfect in every way imaginable, while my parents only bothered to acknowledge my existence when it served their social ambitions..."

You paused, frowning at him, your features a near scowl. "You're sure quick to call me a rich little princess...and sure, maybe you're right, maybe I had all the material things one could ever desire...but it was never enough, could never be enough. Something was always missing, like a void inside me that nothing would ever fucking fill."

Your eyes burned with unshed tears as you continued, the weight of your past bearing down on you. "When my grandmother got sick, it was the only time she actually fucking spoke to me. She told me to be different, to break free from the mold that had plagued my family for decades. I was there with her in her final moments, the first and only fucking time she ever said she loved me. And where were my parents? Absent, as always. They didn't even show up until days after her death, showering me with gifts, as if their mere presence could make up for years of neglect..."

In an unrelenting torrent, words cascaded from your lips, each syllable carrying the burden of years' worth of pent-up emotions. Mattheo's unwavering gaze never strayed, his chest rising and falling in shallow bursts, absorbing every uttered syllable as though he never anticipated such revelations.

"Sure, maybe I was handed whatever I wanted on a silver fucking platter--but I was always alone, and truthfully, that's how I fucking preferred it. I never believed in destiny, Mattheo...the stars never whispered my name, my future...I had to shape my own path, I had to become something of my own...once my grandma passed, I was left with the butler. My parents didn't care about what I did as long as my grades were to their standards. They had no idea I wasn't in Slytherin until my third fucking year..."

You paused, your eyes catching Mattheo's parted lips, a reflection of sheer astonishment. Despite fighting to maintain composure, your voice softened with each breath, your heart pounding in your throat.

"I had to grab my own fate with two hungry hands, pulling and pushing and molding my life into something I could be fucking proud of...and then you came along, with your smart mouth and your fucking effortless charm...and you just...you forced your way right into my bloody heart, tore down my walls like you fucking belonged there." The bitterness in your voice hung in the air, the pain of your past etched into every word, your chest heaving with emotion as Mattheo stood in front of you, speechless. "Yes, I've made mistakes, but they belong entirely to me...and thats precisely what sets us apart, you went through some shit and let it possess you...I chose to fight back."

Trembling fingers betrayed the turmoil within, your entire body quivering in the aftermath of the verbal storm you'd just unleashed upon Mattheo. Only when the deafening silence enveloped you did the weight of your words become palpable.

Unable to endure the silence any longer, you broke eye contact, running a trembling hand through your hair. "I'm so sorry...I didn't mean to trauma dump on you like that, I just-"

"No," he declared, "don't you dare apologize to me...I should be the one apologizing to you."

Mattheo's interruption sliced through the charged air, his voice emerging rasped and strained, as though he had withheld words for years. Swallowing, you met his intense gaze, attempting to decipher the kaleidoscope of emotions swirling within his eyes.

"Don't pity me, Mattheo...I'm well past needing that," you whispered, your figure leaning subtly against the bookshelf, a tangible weariness emanating from your being. "Everything you've ever said was right...two sides of the same coin, the masks, the fact that we're each haunted by our own ghosts. You've always been fucking right. The only misstep was when you claimed you'd be my ruin."

Mattheo arched an eyebrow, bridging the distance between you with a measured step. "And why is that?"

"Because, little did you know, I was already in ruins," you murmured, reaching out to loop your fingers around his belt, pulling him closer. "If anything, you've been my bloody salvation...you did something I wasn't sure I was capable of anymore--you made me feel."

A tangible tension hung in the air as Mattheo's hands gripped your hips with a silent urgency, a fervent plea for your presence.

"As if you're going to fucking say that," he countered, his grip conveying unspoken desires. "As if that's not precisely what you did to me."

"Yeah?" you smirked, your voice a sultry whisper. "And what do I make you feel?"

"Everything, Raven," he cooed, lips grazing sensually over your jawline. "Hate, desire, anger, lust...among other things."

Your breath hitched, suspended in the charged exchange. "Among other--"

Before you could finish, Mattheo cut you off, his lips crashing onto yours in a searing kiss, a palpable surge of desire that eclipsed the need for spoken words. He pressed you against the bookshelf, the wooden solidity of the shelves meeting your back. His hands, with a journey of their own, glided up your sides, their warmth leaving a trail of anticipation. They found their destination on your face, gently cupping it with a possessiveness that made your heart flutter, and you sighed into his mouth, letting your hands rest at his sides.

"Everything about you is so fucking addictive..." Mattheo's confession hung in the air, a declaration punctuated by the heat of his lips tracing a fervent path along your jaw. His hand, a serpentine caress, slithered down your arm, leaving a tingling trail of warmth in its wake. "You are both hellfire and holy water...soft yet strong...and every bloody time I touch you I feel a little less war-torn, like your chaos balances out mine...I just...I have no idea what peace feels like Raven, but I have to imagine it feels a lot like you..."

"Mm...fuck, I've missed you..." a soft sigh escaped your lips as his kisses descended, exploring the landscape of your neck. Your fingers instinctively tightened their grip on his shirt. "Whatever happened to that break you said you wanted..."

"Fuck the break," he growled, desire lacing his voice. His hand ventured boldly behind your head, the other finding a home on your hip, possessive and hungry. "I want you so fucking bad...I want to fuck you right here...right against this fucking shelf...cover your filthy little mouth so no one can hear you fucking moaning for me..."

"Shit..." you mewled, gasping slightly as his hand slid around to grip your ass. "Maybe...if two people can't seem to stay the fuck away from eachother, they aren't meant to be apart, hm?"

"Maybe you're right..." Mattheo purred, nipping at your earlobe as he pressed you back against the shelf. "I've always been a strong man, Raven...but you break me without effort...you are my weakness, the chink in my fucking armour..."

"Your undoing?" you murmured, your fingers tracing over his belt.

He hummed. "Precisely."

"When are you going to open up to me, Mattheo?" You whispered, your voice a fragile murmur as though you were afraid of the answer, slipping your fingers under his belt now, gliding along its path. "Tell me all the bad things you've done...tell me what made you into the weapon you are...you don't need to be afraid...I saw your darkness from the very beginning and I'm still fucking here, aren't I?..."

"Why?" His grip tightened, breath hitching. "Why didn't you run?"

Your lids fluttered, slowly losing yourself in the warmth of his breath against your neck. His scent enveloped you; a familiar, soothing balm to the ache he'd caused with his recent request for a break. The answer formed easily in your heart, though voicing it required vulnerability, more than you'd ever expected to give.

"Because...it was a reflection of mine."

Mattheo's only response was a deep growl that rumbled through the charged space, a primal sound that resonated with desire. Without hesitation, he pulled you back into a hungry kiss, his body pulsating with pent-up energy seeking release. The intensity of the kiss mirrored the raw hunger between you, a magnetic force that defied all notions of any further separation.

As your fingers continued their exploration along his belt, tracing the contours with a teasing caress, you encountered an unexpected sensation--cold, unyielding metal tucked between the leather and his abdomen, its texture rough, and harsh. A chill ran down your spine as confusion slowly crept over you, your eyes fluttering open in slow, tentative blinks, fingers seemingly frozen in place.

Mattheo, lost in the heat of the moment, seemed oblivious to your sudden unease. The kiss deepened, his hunger transferring into the fervency of the embrace. But your focus had shifted, and your trembling fingers tentatively confirmed the nature of the cold object--something metallic, something that should not be there. You gently pulled away from the kiss, your eyes wide with realization, fixated on the metal object now halfway exposed. Dread tightened your chest as your brows pinched, flicking back up to meet his eyes.

"Mattheo," you whispered, the name carrying a weight of urgency, "what is this?"

Mattheo's swallow echoed in the charged silence, his gaze dropping to your hand, his chest still heaving from the passionate kiss. His eyes widened as the weight of your question settled in, a realization dawning on him, as if he had momentarily forgotten about the object concealed within his belt.

"Raven, I-"

He began, but you interrupted, yanking your hand back. "No-what the fuck-"

"Stop," Mattheo commanded, his tone abruptly taking on a harsh edge. With deliberate movements, he pulled up his shirt slightly, revealing more of the mysterious object nestled between his belt. The revelation hung in the air, and Mattheo, eyes now serious, asked a question that carried the weight of the moment: "Do you trust me, Raven?"

Your eyes squinted as a realization crashed over you, the rhythm of your heart shifting into a turbulent drumbeat within your chest. There was absolutely no denying it--that sleek, ominous silhouette spoke volumes. That was a fucking gun.

Frozen in a surreal disbelief, your ability to think, blink, or move was momentarily hijacked. Mattheo's hand surged upward with a suddenness that matched the shock in your eyes, seizing your jaw with a commanding force. His fingers, both firm and urgent, redirected your gaze, forcing you back to the depth of his eyes, which were now darker than the midnight sky.

"Answer me," he demanded, the intensity of his words amplified by the gravity of the situation. "Do you fucking trust me?"

The weight of the question echoed in the charged air. Your mind spun, grappling with the incredulity of the scene unfolding before you. Firearms had been a distant memory, relegated to hunting trips with a Muggle friend back in middle school. Yet, the stark reality of Mattheo possessing a fucking handgun in the heart of Hogwarts shattered any remnants of normalcy, the shockwaves reverberating through your very core.

"I-I-" you stammered.

Mattheo jostled your head in his grip, pulling you closer. "Yes or no question, Raven."

Blinking, you found yourself caught in a tempest of conflicting emotions. The tendrils of trust warred with the unsettling presence of the gun, a contradiction that defied all reason. In the throbbing silence, Mattheo's growl of frustration pierced the air. Relinquishing his grip on your jaw, he seized your wrist, directing it back toward the ominous weapon.

"Take it out," he commanded, his eyes fixed on yours. "Right now, Raven. Take it."

A whimper escaped you, your fingers trembling as they tentatively wrapped around the cold metal. With visible reluctance, you extended it out, pointing the gun down at the floor. Mattheo's grip on your wrist persisted, unyielding, anchoring you in the unsettling reality of the moment.

"I'll ask you one more fucking time," he whispered harshly, the words slicing through the charged air like a razor. His breath, warm against your face, carried an unsettling contrast to the gravity of his demand. "Do you trust me?"

Another desperate whimper slipped past your lips, the nodding of your head an almost frantic plea. "Yes! Please, I trust you. Just take it back-"

Mattheo's reply erupted as a snarl, a guttural growl that echoed with a feral intensity. His features, twisted by a crazed possession, accentuated the mad determination in his eyes as he tightened his grip on your wrist. With an unhinged sense of purpose, he directed it upward, the cold barrel now pressing menacingly against his own temple.

"Pull it," he said stoically, the eerie calmness chilling against the tension. "Pull the trigger."

Your jaw dropped, the brimming tears reflecting the disbelief that swirled in your eyes. "No! What the fu-"

"Do it," he repeated, the calmness persisting. "Go on, baby, pull it."

Sickened and paralyzed by the surreal horror of the moment, you hesitated, the sheer shock of what Mattheo was asking you to do anchoring you in a moment of profound disbelief. Your mind swarmed with recollections of the crazy things you'd done for him before, but this--this was unlike anything you had ever fucking imagined. The weight of the gun in your hand, the gravity of the situation, left your brain reeling as the stark realization of the moment seized hold of your senses.

His frustration, palpable and charged, manifested in another growl. With a menacing determination, he shifted his hand to envelop yours, forcing your finger down, the pressure on the trigger unrelenting.

You heard the click, you felt the click--and yet, nothing happened.

"Fuck..." you choked out, a turbulent blend of relief and confusion seizing your senses in a tumultuous embrace. "What the fuck..."

He blinked, his dark eyes tracing over your lips as he clicked it again. And again. The ensuing silence, pregnant with the surreal gravity of the situation, echoed through the seemingly empty library. Each breath you exhaled became a struggle, the air tinged with the weight of the inexplicable moment, your senses teetering on the edge of unconsciousness.

Then, like a tidal wave crashing over you, the realization struck with breathtaking force. "It's enchanted..."

"About fucking time you caught on." Mattheo nodded, his acknowledgement cutting through the charged air with terse confirmation. He released the hold on your hand, pulling the gun away and casually slipping it back under his belt. "This gun only serves one purpose Raven, and it's never to kill, only to protect..."

Your heart leapt. "Protect what?"

"Doesn't matter," he said, a gentle hand reaching up to brush a strand of hair away from your eyes. “You can trust me, Raven…you can always fucking trust me…”

You exhaled, a long, exasperated breath. “I know, Mattheo…”

“Good girl,” he cooed, a smirk playing on his lips as he stoically reached into his back pocket, as if on a quest for something. "Has Nott popped the question yet?"

Your cheeks flushed. "Yes.."

"Good," he replied, his other hand securing your wrist before he withdrew his busy one, placing a handful of Galleons in your outstretched palm. "Go treat yourself to a dress. Something red, something tight."

As he withdrew his hand, he leaned in, placing a hot, wet kiss on your cheek, smirking from ear to ear as he said. "I've got something I have to do tonight, so I can't stay...but I look forward to respectfully ripping off whichever lovely dress you decide on."

"Respectfully?" you quipped, a playful glint in your eyes. "I'll make sure to pick a dress that demands nothing less than the most dignified removal, then."

"Oh, Raven...I can promise you it'll be the furthest thing from dignified." He snickered, wetting his lips as he took a few steps back, slowly beginning to make his retreat. "See you then."

As he spun around, making his exit, your mind followed suit, a whirlwind of emotions from this entire encounter. Only Mattheo Riddle could master the art of rendering you utterly anxious, furious, emotional, aroused, terrified, and, finally, relieved--all within the span of under an hour. You'd never encountered a man who expertly navigated every one of your buttons and boundaries like he did, yet you couldn't deny the potent influence he held over you.

You couldn't deny that as soon as he left, an insatiable longing for his presence consumed you, an undeniable yearning for his return.

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Chapter 25->

1K notes · View notes

ssahotchnerr · 9 months

Note

Aaron making hot chocolate for his little girl 😭😭😭😭 she only wants his and can tell if someone else has made it, and flat out REFUSES to drink it. Reader calls Aaron on the phone during a case and all he can hear is his daughter crying in the background and reader is like “wtf do you put in this hot chocolate??? Coke???????” because reader just cannot get it right despite Aaron walking them through the process of his hot chocolate before 😭 maybe Aaron talks on the phone with daughter for a bit to calm her down and the promise of unlimited hot chocolate once he comes home AHHHHHHH

dad's way

please 😭 and the way i literally had a hot cocoa candle burning as i worked on this cw; fem!reader, food descriptions, brief picky eater talk, girl dad!aaron <333333

"hi sweetheart-"

the shriek on the other end immediately caused him to hold his phone an inch or two away. it was piercing and loud, even for his bad ear.

concern had already swarmed his chest before the cry had ceased, and the room suddenly felt a bit hotter. "honey? is everything alright?"

there was a brief rustling sound, a small clattering of what he assumed was dishes, the close of a cabinet following after. "how do you make your hot chocolate?"

"why-"

"how, do you make your hot chocolate." you interrupted him, your voice distancing a bit for a moment, "dada's on the phone, it's okay."

"oh." aaron chuckled softly as realization hit, his voice filled with a tinge of pity. "someone's upset."

"tell me about it." you sighed in defeat, exasperation clear. "apparently, whatever i make isn't good enough. i've given her three different cups already. three. well, given the third was a reattempt of number one. but with whipped cream and sprinkles. jack too tried to persuade her, but nope. it's daddy's hot chocolate and daddy's hot chocolate only."

"is it in the right mug?"

"the one with all the little ladybugs? yup."

"okay," aaron quickly excused himself - he was still sat amongst the rest of the team, who were silently digging through records - jj shot him a sympathetic glance as he got up. he trailed down the short hallway outside the conference room, in search of a more secluded area to give instructions. "well, i usually-"

aaron walked you through it - steaming the milk, at just the right temperature. adding the cocoa mix, a little extra than the standard serving size. mini marshmallows, and the secret ingredient you had missed - adding a touch of vanilla extract. it was simple, really, but your daughter was a stickler.

she wasn't a picky eater, but was very adamant on how things were made or presented. for example, if two foods next to each other on a plate happened to merge - it was the end of the world. and when it came to aaron's hot chocolate, she couldn't get enough of it. she asked for it nightly, promptly right after dinner. she always insisted on sitting on the counter as aaron made it, watching intently and asking questions on what he was doing. it was their thing together. and more than likely, his absence was aiding to the current meltdown.

"here," aaron hears you say, your daughter's cries lessening for a moment. "this is dada's."

there was a moment's pause, and aaron could easily visualize your daughter analyzing the drink, her eyebrows furrowing in that hotchner way that was just genetic at this point - jack had it too. but as you both already anticipated, another wail produced in response.

"nooooo it's not!"

aaron heard you tiredly sigh, and he was quick to offer more assistance. "want me to talk to her?"

"please."

another shuffle came from your end of the phone, handing it to your daughter. there was a slightly louder sniffle, indicating she was close and listening.

"hi sweetheart," aaron softened his voice, his heartstrings tugging as he silently wished he was home, with you all, rather than a few states away. "what's the matter?"

another sharp sniffle. "i want your hot chocolate."

"i know bug," he consoled softly. again, his heart breaking at her small, upset voice. "but since i'm at work, mom's gonna have to make it for you."

she hesitated, bottom lip quivering. another small wail was quick to follow. "but i want yours."

"i know, but i told momma how i make it, so it'll taste exactly the same, i promise. she put all her love in it too, just like i do. which, do you wanna know a secret?"

that grabbed her attention, her cries stilling so fast it was almost humorous. "uh huh."

"that's the secret ingredient that makes it taste so good, whether mom or i make it. but you can't tell your brother that, okay? it'll be our secret."

"okay."

"so tonight, can you drink mom's hot chocolate? she worked really hard to make it special, just for you." she quieted, still unsure, so aaron switched tactics. "and when i get home, i'll make you two cups. with extra, extra marshmallows. how does that sound?"

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x fem!reader #criminal minds drabble #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch imagine

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calcifiedunderland · 3 months

Text

Spare Change

Azul x GN Reader (they/them)

—In which you win Azul’s friendship with the loose change in your pocket.

Notes: I tried to keep the coin description vague so it could be from any currency!! I had this idea for a little while now. Enjoy shrimpies~

—

You were going to buy Azul’s friendship at the cost of a gumball.

Well, maybe that was an exaggeration. By all accounts, it would’ve been impossible to do that, even with a large sum of money. You didn’t think that you’d ever be back in his office making a deal with the merman who almost turned you out of your dusty dorm. But this time, it hopefully would go in your favor.

Earlier that week, you’d been cleaning out your knickknacks, and came across some loose change you’d had in your pockets when you arrived to NRC. Honestly, you forgot about it - it wasn’t like you could really use it here.

Still, you recalled some offhanded comment Jade made - something about Azul’s coin collection, and his fascination with human trinkets. Once, when you’d visited Azul’s dorm room while he was recovering from his overblot, the framed coin showcase on his wall had caught your eye. The coins shimmered, and despite some wear and tear, you could tell they were now kept in meticulous, pristine condition.

This went through your mind as you stride into Octavinelle, feeling the coins in your pocket thump against your skin.

You sucked in a deep breath and knocked on his office door, and, not waiting for a response, you opened it. If you waited, you’d lose your courage. Azul looked up irritably, adjusting his glasses. “Please wait a moment, I’ll be wi-” he stopped mid-sentence, mouth hanging open when he saw you. “Well- Hello, Prefect,” he clasped his hands over his desk, discreetly shoving a contract into a drawer, “what brings you here today?” He coughed slightly, clearing his throat.

Wordlessly you sat down in front of him, change jangling in your pockets. You looked at him intently, searching his eyes and thumbing a coin in your pocket. This could go really well or really not well. Still, you’d made unlikely friends with Riddle and annoying acquaintances with Leona. Besides, you thought as you rubbed the coin, what you wanted wasn’t anything material. Rather, it was genuine and immeasurable - less to you, but more to him.

Azul was pensive, looking at you carefully. You unsettled him. After what happened before winter break, when he overblotted, he’d had a hard time making heads or fins about you. You were a walking paradox - a magicless human who somehow had so much power over strong housewardens. By all accounts, you shouldn’t have been able to one-up his contract to gain Ramshackle. And yet you somehow did, with Leona and your friends.

In all honesty, you had every reason to be upset with him. So why were you in his office now? His eyes zeroed in on yours. What was your angle? What did you have to gain? He hated this feeling of being indebted to you after his overblot. Like he had to make it up to you, somehow. Would you hold it against him?

You fidgeted slightly under his gaze, feeling a little unnerved. Wordlessly, you fished into your pocket and pulled out one of the larger coins from your currency. You put it on the desk between the two of you, the tether between you and him. And if all went well, a symbol.

He looked down at it, curiousity getting the better of him. He picked it up carefully in his gloved fingers, holding it up and turning it around. He rubbed his fingers over the dips and engravings, analyzing the text on it. He held it up to the light, admiring it. Strange, he thought to himself. A childish fascination grew in him, and he carefully flipped the coin around in his fingers, admiring the way it glinted and reflected the light. You smiled, watching the awe in Azul’s eyes grow.

At last, he spoke, not taking his eyes off it, “I’ve never seen anything like it. I’d have to look into it’s origins if you’d want me to appraise it.” He couldn’t think of any other reason you’d be here, giving this to him. Was this your way of getting him to repay you? Have him auction off this coin? His mind halted, why did you show this coin to him? To lure him in and then take it away?

You shook your head, “you won’t find any information on it.” He rose an eyebrow at you, and you continued, “this is a coin from my world. Where I’m from.” He glanced back at the coin with new interest, enraptured. A one-of-a-kind, limited commodity? A coin that only you would have? His heart skipped a beat.

He’d be lying if his businessmer side wasn’t salivating, but a part of him didn’t want to sell it. Deep down, he knew he wanted to keep it for his collection - after all, it wasn’t often that he came across rare coins.

Still, Azul knew better than others that you couldn’t get something without payment. “…what would you like for it?” He asked so quietly, you would’ve thought you’d imagined it if he wasn’t looking at you. He braced for the worst, thinking you’d demand something wild as revenge for his overblot.

You took a deep breath, “Nothing.”

Weeks ago, you would’ve disbelieved the idea of befriending the same person who almost ousted you from Ramshackle. Especially offering him your friendship in the form of spare coins you’d found in your pocket.

Being in his office, trying to offer your friendship to him in the form of a coin of a lost world, was the last thing you thought you’d be doing. But here you were, the subject of scrutiny, sitting in the lavish armchair in front of his desk, trying to show him that you weren’t as ill-intentioned as he thought others may be. That you genuinely did want to connect with him.

Which was hard to do when he was looking at you intently, hands clasped under his nose, presumably staring at you uncomfortably. The look on his face was unreadable. Nothing? They want… nothing? Azul was no fool. All his clients wanted something, no one would ever do something nice for nothing in exchange. You had to have some ulterior motive. Right?

“What… do you want?” He asked again, straightening. A few weeks ago, you might’ve been a little ruffled at his straightforwardness. Now, you only knew he was trying to compose himself, as he lifted his head and offered a debonair smirk, adjusting his glasses. “I understand that the headmaster has still not given you proper accommodations for you. I’m sure, as a non-magical student, I could offer you assistance in exchange for this rare commodi-“

“I really don’t want anything material,” you cut him off, crossing your arms. You would’ve thought you’d have insulted him, from the way his face contorted. “That- that’s preposterous, Perfect. Surely you’d want something in exchange for this coin!” Otherwise why would you be here? was silently said between the two of you.

“I wanted you to have it. It’s a gift. I’m giving it to you.” That’s what friends do!, you thought exasperatedly.

Azul’s eyes bored into yours, and you noted that his pupils were slightly square rather than round. He said, “nothing is free, now Prefect. Surely there’s something you want?” You sighed through your nose. “I just…” you swallowed, looking at him, “I thought you’d like it.” Your tone was genuine, and you squared your shoulders. Azul’s tone softened, “do you not want to keep it? It’s from your world, after all.” You angled your head in wonder.

A few weeks ago, Azul probably would’ve taken the coin without regard for you, or done something underhanded. You were curious (and maybe a bit hopeful) why he was considerate to you now.

“It wasn’t the only coin I had,” you responded, fishing for an identical coin in your pocket and pulling it out, “I had another. It’s the same thing, see?” Azul glanced at it, indeed it’s the same. He asked, “regardless, wouldn’t you want both?” You shrugged, “I can’t exactly spend it here, and I have no need for two of the same. Besides,” you smiled at him, hoping he’d understand, “I… thought you’d appreciate it.”

A lump rose in Azul’s throat as he turned the coin over in his fingers, noting every small scratch and engraving. “I…” he cleared his throat, composing himself. “Thank you, Prefect. I want to give you something in return,” he looked up. You were about to insist you wanted nothing (even if you did start out wanting something), when you saw the look in his eyes. You supposed old habits died hard - he would keep insisting on compensation for you until you accepted. So, you supposed it couldn’t hurt to be honest.

You smiled at him, holding out your extra coin to him. “How about your friendship?” His eyes widened, and you saw his adams apple bob. “I mean it,” you said softly, “really. Please?”

His eyes searched yours for any foulplay or malice. Feelings surged in him - memories of other merchildren making fun of his tentacles or his ink, times when they’d fooled him into being ‘friends,’ hiding in a crevice from bullies. Still, he found no reason to doubt you, as you smiled at him. How could you forgive him?

A poor, unfortunate soul is he, to refuse redemption.

He held his coin in his fingers, “It’s a deal,” he declared, and tapped it against yours.

——

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst #twst azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #twst azul #octavinelle x reader #octavinelle #twst yuu #azul ashengrotto #mostro lounge #calcified writing

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genshinluvr · 1 year

Text

Written in the Stars

Pairings: Various Honkai Star Rail Men x Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: Your existence in the world of Honkai Star Rail continues to be a mystery, but General Jing Yuan thinks he can help you regain your memory and find out your origins. Who knew that your chances of meeting them was written in the stars.

Note: Thank you for the love on my first HSR fic 🥺❤️ I'm glad that you all liked it and wanted more! And here is the second HSR fic in my harem one-shot series! ^^ It's a bit shorter than the first part by 600 words, but I liked how it turned out! I'm still trying my best to capture the character's personalities. It'll take some time as the game and series progress. Anyway, I wanted you all to know that I do post this fic on AO3 as well! I post all of my works on Tumblr and AO3 and nowhere else. I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: None that I know of 🤔

Word Count: 8k

You open your eyes and find yourself in the void. The same void where you first meet Nanook, the towering figure which covers the sun and sky. You expected to see Nanook towering over you, watching you intently with fondness in those gorgeous gold eyes. But you don’t see Nanook anywhere. You remain sitting on the ground in the abyss, unsure of what to do. Nanook’s way of reaching out to you is through your dreams while you’re asleep, but now that you’re asleep in the cabin of the Astral Express, there is no sight of Nanook anywhere.

You reluctantly get off the ground and begin walking aimlessly through the void, searching for the massive figure you have befriended in your dreams. Nanook is nowhere to be found, and you’re confused. You stop in your tracks, eyes scanning the little stars in the void and shielding your eyes from the sun.

“Where is Nanook?” You ask.

Your vision suddenly turns black. A deep chuckle rings throughout the void, a chest pressing up against your back. You soon realize that someone’s covering your eyes.

“Guess who?” The deep voice whispers into your ears.

You blink and place your hands over the person it belongs to. The person behind you chuckles before covering your eyes with one hand while snaking their arm around your torso, pulling you close to their chest.

You hum thoughtfully, tapping on your chin. “Is it…” you trail off, a big smile stretching across your face. “Is it Jing Yuan?” You tease.

The voice scoffs. “As if I would be that old man,” you hear the voice mutter bitterly.

You snort and gently elbow the person’s gut. “Hey, be nice! I bet you’re as old as he is,” you say, grabbing the person’s hand and pulling away from your face.

You turn around to see Nanook standing there with a small frown. It almost looks like Nanook was pouting at you. You look at Nanook, surprised. You didn’t think Nanook could shrink down to human size— Nanook is usually massive, covering the sun and sky. A look of amusement appears on Nanook’s face while analyzing the expression on your face.

“Oh, Nanook! I didn’t think you could shrink down to my size! I assumed you have always been massive, covering the sun and sky like usual!” You say.

Nanook smiles at you. “I can take on many forms, [Y/N]. I wanted to surprise you,” Nanook says, looking away while the color pink slowly makes an appearance.

You look at Nanook, surprised. Nanook wanted to surprise you by shrinking down to human size? You feel your face warm up at the flustered look on Nanook’s face and the thought of Nanook wanting to surprise you.

You find yourself giggling, grabbing Nanook’s attention. “Oh, Nanook! You’re so cute!” You say, grinning at Nanook. The smile on your face slowly fades away, making Nanook concerned.

“What’s wrong?” Nanook asks, caressing your face with one hand while tucking your hair behind your ears with the other.

You close your eyes and let out a long exhale through your nostrils. “Recently, I have been feeling strange about this place. Not just the void but the world outside of it,” you reply, slowly opening your eyes to look at Nanook, who continues to look at you curiously. “There’s a sense of familiarity, but I don’t know how everything feels familiar to me. Do you know what it is?” You ask.

Nanook gives you a sad smile. “As much as I would love to answer your question, I can’t give you an answer. That is for me to know and for you to figure it out yourself,” Nanook replies.

You visibly deflate and let out a shaky sigh. “Oh, I see. That’s disappointing,” you whisper.

“[Y/N]—”

You cut Nanook off.

“Are you even real? I know we’re communicating with each other through my dreams, but do you really exist, or are you a figment of my imagination?” You ask.

Nanook nods in response to your question. “Of course, I’m real, [Y/N]. We’ll meet in person very soon, I promise you,” Nanook whispers, stroking your cheek.

You give Nanook a pleading look before sighing in defeat. There’s no point in pushing any further despite wanting Nanook to answer your question on why the void, the Astral Express, Jarilo-VI, and the Xianzhou Luofu feel so familiar. Deep down, you know why everything feels familiar. But it’s like your memory is suppressing it to prevent you from knowing why it’s so familiar.

From a distance, you hear someone calling out to you. You search your surroundings, trying to find where the voice is coming from. Nanook gives you a sad smile and backs away from you. You look at Nanook, who briefly squeezes your hand before releasing it.

“We can continue the conversation next time we meet,” says Nanook.

And with that, everything fades to black. Your eyelids fly open when you feel something hit you in the face. You roll over to your side and glare at the person about to hit your face for the second time with a pillow. March freezes in her spot with her arms in the air, preparing to hit you with a pillow again.

March gives you a sheepish smile and tosses the pillow to the ground. “You’re finally awake! You’ve been mumbling in your sleep, and I thought you were about to wake up, but you didn’t!” says March, plopping on the edge of your bed.

You rub your eyes and give March a sleepy smile. “Sorry, I was exhausted. After all, it’s been a rough few days for me,” you say, combing your fingers through your hair.

March gives you a sympathetic look. “Is this about your memories again?” March asks, propping herself up on her elbows.

You close your eyes before falling back. “Unfortunately, it is.”

March reaches over and pats your head. “Aw, cheer up, [Y/N]! I’m sure your memories will return to you very soon! I think your brain is trying to protect you from reliving the trauma that happened prior to your arrival on the Xianzhou Luofu!” March says.

“Maybe,” you mutter, rolling over on your side and hugging the blanket to your chest.

You should really get up and get ready for the day, but you can’t find it in you to do so. Before you can wallow in self-pity, Dan Heng and Caelus stand at the entrance of your room, knocking on the door to grab your and March’s attention.

“Are you two going to get breakfast? Himeko and Mr. Yang were wondering what’s taking you two so long to get out of bed,” Dan Heng says, crossing his arms over his chest.

March gets off your bed and walks over to where Dan Heng and Caelus are standing. “Hey, I’ve been awake for a while now! I was trying to wake [Y/N] up from their sleep, but it didn’t work because I was standing outside their door the entire time!” March explains, propping her hands on her hips.

Caelus raises his eyebrows at March. “So, when [Y/N] didn’t answer the door, you decided to walk into their room to wake them up yourself?” Caelus asks.

“That is correct! Do you know how many times I called their name, but they continued to sleep through it?” asks March, her head snapping in your direction with a glare. “I bet they could sleep through the battle we had with Cocolia if they were there.”

You kick your blanket off your legs and stretch your arms with a yawn. “I don’t think I’m that much of a heavy sleeper! I think this is the first time I was able to sleep through something,” you say, scratching your cheek before walking over to the closet to find something to wear. “Anyway, you three can wait outside. I’m going to get ready and will meet you with Mr. Yang and Himeko in a moment.”

Caelus chuckles and walks out of your room, with Dan Heng and March following behind. “Make sure not to go back to sleep! If you do, I’ll have someone drag you out of bed, and it’s not going to be March,” Caelus says from over his shoulders.

You give Caelus a sheepish smile and clear your throat. “No promises!” You reply.

About ten minutes later, you find yourself walking out of the Astral Express with Dan Heng, Mr. Yang, Caelus, and March. You assumed you were going to have breakfast on the Astral Express, but it turns out you’ll be having breakfast with Gepard and Sampo in Belobog instead. I mean, you don’t mind having breakfast with the two of them, just as long as you’re informed about it beforehand.

You jolt out of your thoughts when you feel someone poke your cheeks. You blink and turn to see Sampo standing beside you, leaning on the railing while giving you a cheeky smile. You look at Sampo curiously, who flicks his bangs back and stands up straight.

“What’s on your mind, Gumdrop? You’re a little bit out of it today,” Sampo says, gripping the railing before you two.

You look at Sampo, surprised. “Oh, uh, is it that obvious?” You ask, feeling heat rush to your cheeks.

Sampo nods in response, the cheeky smile replaced by a small frown. “It is obvious, Gumdrop. You’re spacing out, and you didn’t talk to anyone since your arrival at Belobog,” Sampo replies, sighing. “Hey, if you need anyone to talk to, I’m all ears!”

You give Sampo a grateful smile, placing your hand over his and giving his hand a squeeze. “Thank you, Sampo. I really appreciate it,” you say.

Sampo smiles and nods at you, staring at you with contentment. You stare back, wondering why Sampo is looking at you that way. Then it dawned on you.

You laugh and rub the back of your neck, clearing your throat for the umpteenth time today. “Oh! You want me to tell you what’s been distracting me, don’t you?” You ask.

Sampo shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know! Do I?” Sampo grins, playfully bumping his shoulders with yours.

You snort and bump shoulders with Sampo in return. Before Sampo can make a comment, the sound of a metal trash bin being kicked over interrupts Sampo. The two of you turn to where the trash bin was knocked over to see Caelus, March, Dan Heng, Mr. Yang, and Gepard staring at the fallen trash bin.

Dan Heng sighs and walks over to you, handing you a sandwich. “Here’s your breakfast sandwich you told me to get for you,” Dan Heng says.

You smile at Dan Heng. “Thank you! You’re the best!” You say, unwrapping the breakfast sandwich from the wrap and taking a bite out of it.

Dan Heng glances at Sampo, who grins at him and waves in return. Dan Heng sighs and ignores the indigo-haired man before looking at you. “Don’t eat too fast. You’re inhaling the sandwich instead of eating it,” Dan Heng comments, reaching toward you and wiping the crumbs from the corner of your lips and the crumbs sticking to your cheek.

You mumble and turn away from Dan Heng to continue eating your breakfast sandwich in peace. March giggles and skips over to you before looping her arm around yours, gesturing for you to follow her. You let March drag you to the nearest table before pulling out a chair and sitting at the table while eating your sandwich.

“I think it's cute and impressive that [Y/N] can finish a sandwich in one bite,” Caelus says casually while biting his breakfast sandwich. “I like a person who can vacuum their food,” Caelus jokes, smiling behind his sandwich.

March looks at Caelus with her eyebrows raised. “Did you just—”

Mr. Yang sighs and pushes his glasses up his nose, giving March a subtle glare. March pouts and looks away, sipping on her milkshake beside you. You rub March’s back while occupied with your sandwich. You wipe your mouth with a napkin and look at the men sitting across from you and March.

“So, what’s today’s plan?” You ask.

Mr. Yang sighs and leans back in his seat with his arms crossed over his chest. “After this, we will be heading to the Xianzhou Luofu. After hearing your response a few days ago at the Xianzhou Luofu, General Jing Yuan wants to meet up to discuss the situation,” replies Mr. Yang.

Dan Heng looks at Mr. Yang quizzically. “Do you believe that General Jing Yuan has the answers to [Y/N]’s situation?” Dan Heng asks, crossing his arms over his chest while raising an eyebrow at the older man.

You squint your eyes and pursed your lips, wondering the same thing. Would someone like Jing Yuan understand what’s going on? Mainly about why you don’t have any memories prior to your sudden arrival at the Xianzhou Luofu? It’s possible that you could have wandered on the Xianzhou Luofu, and something or someone hit your head so hard that you ended up losing your memories.

Mr. Yang sighs and shrugs. “That, I do not know. We’ll have to wait and see when we arrive at the Xianzhou Luofu after breakfast,” replies Mr. Yang.

Gepard and Sampo trade looks with each other before Gepard says, “We’ll tag along with you guys.”

March does a double take, nearly choking on her milkshake. With wide eyes, March looks at Caelus, Dan Heng, Mr. Yang, and you. March presses her hand against her chest and swallows the milkshake she nearly choked on. “I’m sorry, I beg your pardon? Gepard, aren’t you the Captain of the Silvermane Guards? You can’t just up and leave Belobog suddenly to go to the Xianzhou Luofu with us!” March says, looking at Gepard incredulously.

Gepard raises his eyebrows at March, crossing his arms over his chest. “Oh? Am I not allowed to tag along to see what’s going on? After all, I want to know what’s affecting an acquaintance of mine,” Gepard says, looking at you from the corner of his eyes.

Sampo nods in agreement. “Yeah, same with me! Pluuuuuus…” Sampo trails off, looking at you with a cat-like smile before propping his arms on the table in front of him.

Mr. Yang raises his eyebrows at Sampo, eyeing the indigo-haired man from head to toe. “Plus what, Sampo?” Mr. Yang asks before sipping his warm coffee.

Sampo clears his throat dramatically before getting up from his seat. You take the last bite of the breakfast sandwich, wiping your hand and mouth with the napkin while watching Sampo walk toward you, stopping before you and dropping on one knee dramatically. Your eyes widen, and you look around to see if there are any bystanders witnessing this other than the six people sitting around you and Sampo.

Sampo grabs your hand and presses his lips on your knuckles, holding your hand firmly. “[Y/N], I know we have known each other for a short time, but I was wondering if you would like to go to the Underworld with me?” Sampo asks, flicking his hair away from his eyes.

Caelus blinks at Sampo and clears his throat. “Sampo, you knew [Y/N] for less than two weeks, and you’re already asking them out on a date?” Caelus asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t you think you’re moving a little bit too fast?”

Dan Heng snorts, taking a sip of his water while looking away from you and Sampo. “Do you think he cares about perception of time? You’re talking to the same man that hid from the Silvermane Guards in the pile of snow,” Dan Heng comments.

March looks at Caelus and Dan Heng with a knowing smirk on her face. She leans on the table, sipping on her milkshake nonchalantly before stirring the shake. “It sounds like someone is jealous,” March sing-song, staring at her milkshake while ignoring the glares Caelus and Dan Heng were giving her.

Mr. Yang sighs and gets up from his seat. “It seems like we’re all finished with our breakfast. Let’s head to the Xianzhou Luofu. The quicker we get there, the sooner we get our answers,” says Mr. Yang.

Mr. Yang ended up walking ahead of everyone while you all trailed behind him. On the other hand, Sampo stuck by your side while entertaining you with many of his stories regarding his customers. You’re not sure what he does exactly, but hearing his stories was entertaining.

Dan Heng glares at the back of Sampo’s head, letting out a disgruntled huff before muttering to March and Caelus, “Do you guys think Sampo is actually going to take [Y/N] to the Underworld with him?”

March shrugs her shoulders while fiddling with the camera around her waist. “That, I can’t answer! If he does want to take [Y/N] to the Underworld with him for a date, the decision falls in [Y/N]’s hands!” March replies, lifting the camera to her face before taking a picture of you and Sampo walking beside each other. “Well, that is if General Jing Yuan doesn’t snatch [Y/N] up before Sampo gets the chance to take them to the Underworld.” March snickers.

Mr. Yang peeks from over his shoulders, narrowing his eyes at March, Dan Heng, and Caelus. “What are you three snickering back there?” Mr. Yang asks.

Caelus, Dan Heng, and March look at the brown-haired man like a deer caught in headlights. Mr. Yang raises his eyebrows at them, stopping in his tracks before turning to face them. You, Sampo, and Gepard look at March, Caelus, and Dan Heng curiously.

Mr. Yang sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, letting out a slow exhale. “You know what? Let's continue walking to the Astral Express. We don’t want to keep General Jing Yuan waiting for too long,” Mr. Yang says.

On the Astral Express, it felt a little bit awkward. You wanted to take a nap on the couch, but March, Dan Heng, and Caelus would prevent you from taking a nap. Gepard and Sampo would look at each other, confused about why the trio wouldn’t allow you to nap on the couch.

Dan Heng would say, “[Y/N] has a bad habit of napping at random times. They can sleep almost anywhere, anytime, as long as they’re comfortable.”

Of course, even if Dan Heng explains to Gepard and Sampo why they don’t let you nap, Sampo and Gepard would have an inkling feeling that Dan Heng is keeping something from the two of them. While you talk to Sampo the most on the trip, you notice Gepard would open his mouth to say something, only to shut it and look away.

You excuse yourself and walk to Gepard, tapping the blond man on the shoulder. Gepard glances at you and gives you an awkward smile. You press your lips into a thin line to prevent yourself from grinning at how adorable Gepard looks. While Gepard is the Captain of the Silvermane Guards, highly respected and the best of them all, Gepard is an awkward man— in a good and endearing way. And that’s okay because that’s how you are.

You clear your throat. “I can’t help but notice you sitting here alone,” You say, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet. “We don’t talk much, and I want to get to know you more aside from the basics March, Dan Heng, and Caelus have told me!”

Man, this is awkward. You’re not much of a social person, but in times like this, you might as well push through it. Plus, you didn’t want Gepard to feel left out while people around him were talking with each other.

Gepard smiles at you. “Well, what do you want to know about me?” Gepard asks.

You can’t help but notice how each person carries a weapon on their person. You obviously don’t have any weapons on your person, and if you did, you weren’t sure what you would be carrying around. You heard March make a comment about Gepard’s weapon not long ago, and you weren’t sure if she was kidding or not, so you wanted to see it for yourself.

You smile at him, rubbing your arm. “I was wondering what your weapon is! I heard March say that your weapon is your sister’s guitar case, and I… not gonna lie, I had a hard time believing her when she said that,” you reply.

Gepard’s eyes widen, and he looks over at March, who’s having a lively conversation with Himeko. Gepard clears his throat, nodding in response to your comment. “Yes, March is correct. My weapon is my sister’s guitar case,” replies Gepard.

Your eyes light up after getting the confirmation from the blond man. You didn’t think it was true at first because March likes to mess with you sometimes. Technically, she likes to mess with you all the time because you still don’t have your memories, so she’s using that to her advantage.

“Sorry, it’s a sudden question. I wanted you to confirm it because I thought March was messing with me because, well….” you trail off, turning to look at March and Himeko from a distance.

Gepard smiles and rubs his temples. “I’m assuming this isn’t the first time she has fooled you about something, huh?” Gepard asks, raising an eyebrow at you while gazing at you with amusement.

Gepard receives a huff from you in response while you cross your arms over your chest, refusing to look at him. Gepard snickers but quickly stops and acts like he isn’t laughing when your head snaps in his direction. You narrow your eyes at Gepard and take a step forward, staring at him with fake scrutiny.

“What are you doing?” Mr. Yang asks, walking up to you and Gepard.

You look at Mr. Yang and smile at him, rubbing the back of your neck. Gepard notices you tend to do that when you’re anxious. Mr. Yang stops in front of you and Gepard, looking between you two with his eyebrows raised.

You clear your throat. “I was uh….” you trailed off, “you know, I don’t have an answer to your question, Mr. Yang,” you conclude, looking at the brunette with a blank stare.

Gepard smirks and tilts his head to the side. “It looks like you were trying to intimidate the Captain of the Silvermane Guard,” Gepard teases.

Your eyes widen, and you look at Gepard with a glare while your lips are pressed into a tight line. Gepard snickers and watches you run off. Mr. Yang stares after you with amusement, chuckling to himself. While you’ve been on the Astral Express for a short time, your personality is starting to show through despite not having your memories before your sudden appearance at the Xianzhou Luofu.

Upon arriving at the Xianzhou Luofu, Jing Yuan had the Cloud Knights waiting for your arrival to escort your group to the location you previously met Jing Yuan at. You would say the name of the place, but quite frankly, you don’t remember the name of it. It looks like a control room with many people walking in and out of the room, and there are holograms too! That’s the best way you can describe it with your limited memory at the moment.

You and your six traveling companions step into the room after the Cloud Knights stop at the entrance. There’s a chair in the center of the room with a lot of equipment surrounding the chair. You stop in your tracks and point at the chair, turning to March, “Do you think I have to sit in that chair?” You whisper.

March nods. “It looks like it! The chair and equipment weren’t there the last time we visited,” March replies, stroking her chin.

“Friends and guests! Welcome! It’s great to see that you all have arrived at the Xianzhou Luofu safely!” Jing Yuan announces, entering the room with Luocha and Blade following behind.

Your eyes widen when you see Blade. While Mr. Yang is speaking to Jing Yuan, you slowly step to the side to hide behind Sampo, Gepard, Dan Heng, Caelus, and March. March reaches behind her and gives your hand a squeeze. It’s not like you hated Blade. You can’t help but find the long dark-haired man intimidating.

I mean, how can you not? He’s always so serious— even though this is probably your third time meeting the man, and he did hold his sword up to your neck and nicked you with the edge of the sword. Not a good first impression, but the man is handsome; you’ll give him that.

“What are you hiding from?” Someone whispers into your ears.

You tense up and freeze in your spot, not daring to look at the person standing behind you. That voice and that aura… you know it belongs to the man you’ve been hiding from. The looks March, Sampo, Caelus, Gepard, and Dan Heng have on their faces were also a dead giveaway of who’s behind you.

The man with long, blond hair— Luocha is his name— sighs and walks up to your group. “[Y/N], it’s nice to see you again! How are you feeling?” Luocha asks, disregarding Blade’s presence.

You take a step to the right and smile sheepishly. “Luocha! It’s good to see you again! I’m doing well, aside from the occasional headaches and strange dreams,” you say.

Luocha looks at you curiously, tilting his head to the side. “Strange dreams, you say? Do you perhaps remember what you dreamt of?” Luocha asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

Well, shit. You did not mean to mention your dreams to Luocha or anyone within earshot. Your “dreams” were nothing but you communicating with Nanook. Sometimes, your dream consists of you in the void, drifting through the abyss alone. While the stars light up the darkness, the darkness seems endless, and you cannot escape unless someone or something wakes you up.

Blade hum and stands beside Luocha, now in your line of sight. Blade raises his eyebrows at you, staring at you with those red eyes of his. “Yes, [Y/N]. Care to tell us all what you dreamt of? We’re all curious, and perhaps it can be one of your memories?” Blade asks.

You wave off Blade’s comment. “Oh, my dreams aren’t important right now! I’m more curious about why you’re here at the Xianzhou Luofu with Jing Yuan and Luocha. I assumed you would be with Kafka since you obey her orders and follow her around like a puppy,” you retort, propping your hands on your hips.

Luocha chuckles. “Feisty, aren’t you?” Luocha says, smirking at you.

You look away, feeling heat rush to your cheeks and ears. “Sorry, I’m still on edge after my first encounter with Blade. What makes it worse is my lack of memory. It’s not an excuse, but…” you trailed off.

Jing Yuan approaches you with Mr. Yang at his side. Jing Yuan stops before you, looking at the others around you before looking at you with a smile. “Are you ready for your test?” Jing Yuan asks.

You blink at Jing Yuan. “Test? I thought we were going to discuss the situation,” you reply, scratching the back of your head.

Luocha chuckles. “Mr. Yang and General Jing Yuan have already discussed the situation. Your purpose here, aside from answering questions, is to have your brain scanned,” replies Luocha.

Brain scanned? Since when could the Xianzhou Luofu scan people’s brains? This is news for you, and given the looks on March, Dan Heng, and Caelus’ faces, this is news to them too. Gepard and Sampo look at each other from the corner of their eyes, not saying a word.

Blade chuckles. “There’s nothing to be scared of. It’s quick and painless,” Blade comments.

You make a face and walk to the chair in the center of the room. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one that’s in this situation,” you grumble, plopping down on the chair.

The people working under Jing Yuan start attaching wires to your head to the machines. You can’t help but feel embarrassed. With many people staring at you while you have wires attached to your head, you feel like an experiment, if that makes sense.

“Now, you’re going to need to close your eyes and try to fall asleep, if you can,” says Jing Yuan.

Blade looks at Jing Yuan out of the corner of his eyes, then back at you. “Why do they need to sleep during this?” Blade asks.

“You’ll see,” Jing Yuan replies ominously.

Blade and Luocha blink. You lean in the seat and close your eyes, and after a few minutes, you slowly drift off to sleep. Jing Yuan walks over to the monitor and begins flipping through the screen, searching for any abnormalities in your brain while you sleep. So far, everything looks normal, but something strange started happening.

“What is that?” Luocha whispers, not taking his eyes off your unconscious body.

Blade looks away from you, narrowing his eyes at Jing Yuan. “Are you sure they’re not from this world?” Blade demands.

March scoffs. “I thought it was obvious that they’re not from this world. After all that fiasco you and Kafka caused, you’re now questioning [Y/N]’s origins?” March asks, propping her hands on her hips while glaring at Blade.

While the others are discussing the situation and what they’re witnessing, you find yourself in the void again. This time, instead of you standing in the darkness, looking up at Nanook, you find yourself sitting on Nanook’s hands. Nanook gazes at you, brushing your hair from your face while making sure to be gentle. You blink at the massive figure, wondering if Nanook was holding you the entire time before you woke up. You notice a frown on Nanook’s face. Nanook looks focused, almost frustrated.

You place your hand over Nanook’s finger. “Nanook?” You whisper.

Nanook doesn’t reply and continues to stare at you.

You furrow your eyebrows, looking at Nanook worriedly. “What’s wrong, Nanook?” You ask.

Despite your encounters with Nanook, not once was there silence between the two of you when Nanook was communicating with you through your dreams. You try to reach out toward Nanook, but Nanook suddenly disappears from the void, causing you to plummet into the bottomless abyss. A scream claws its way up your throat, and before you know it, you jolt from your seat, ripping the wires from your head.

You lean forward in the chair, cradling your head while trying to catch your breath. What happened, and why did Nanook disappear all of a sudden? Your ears are ringing, and the world around you is spinning. You get up from the chair, pressing your hand against the side of your head. Your knees give out from under you, making you collapse to the ground.

Before you can hit the ground, Blade pulls you into his arms, holding you close to his chest. You weren’t sure if you were hallucinating, but you could’ve sworn that Blade said something to you. Almost like he was comforting you.

“You’re okay, you’ll be okay,” you hear Blade murmur.

He caresses your head with one hand while his other hand is pressing against your back. Your head is pounding, you are seeing double, and the ringing in your ears is so loud that it's making the headache even worse. Everything was rushing to you at rapid speed, making you feel dizzy and disoriented. From who you are, where you’re from, where you are, and who the people around you are, aside from how they have introduced themselves to you.

Luocha looks at Jing Yuan. “So, you’re telling me that they’re connected to the Aeon,” Luocha says, raising an eyebrow at Jing Yuan.

Blade carries you to the chair and has you sit down. You close your eyes, rubbing your temples with trembling hands. Whatever happened with Nanook has impacted you as well. Nanook disappeared suddenly, and before Nanook’s sudden disappearance, Nanook looked frustrated and almost not mentally there— almost distracted. Did something happen prior to you waking up in your dreams? Did you do something to make Nanook upset?

“I wouldn’t say they’re connected to the Aeon, but there is some kind of connection between them. If you looked closely, you would be able to see gold blood coursing through their veins while they were unconscious. We know they’re not from this universe, but does [Y/N] know that they’re not from this universe as well?” Jing Yuan asks, raising his eyebrows at Mr. Yang and your other traveling companions.

Dan Heng furrows his eyebrows. “Gold blood? When Blade nicked [Y/N]’s neck with his sword, [Y/N]’s blood was red, not gold,” says Dan Heng.

March laughs nervously. “You don’t view them as a threat, do you? [Y/N] is harmless, and just because an Aeon has some kind of connection with [Y/N] doesn't mean [Y/N]’s no good,” March says. March looks over at you, who’s occupied with trying not to pass out for the second time. “Besides, you said an Aeon has a connection with [Y/N]... don’t you all feel the same way as the Aeon? According to Mr. Yang, Himeko has mentioned it before. Heck, even Sampo and Gepard say they felt a connection with [Y/N] when they first met [Y/N].”

Blade, Luocha, Jing Yuan, and look at Gepard and Sampo. Everyone stood there in silence while you were trying to recover from what happened. Jing Yuan walks to you and kneels in front of you, caressing your face while lightly tapping on your cheek to grab your attention. You crack your eyes open and look at Jing Yuan with bleary eyes.

Jing Yuan gives you an apologetic smile. “Are you alright? I apologize for putting you in this situation. I didn’t think this would be the outcome,” Jing Yuan says, sighing.

Jing Yuan looks genuinely apologetic and almost just as shaken up as you are. You know Jing Yuan didn’t think this would happen. You can never get upset with him over something he has no control over.

In fact, no one thinks this would be the outcome of your little examination. Nanook appeared before you when you were unconscious, but then Nanook disappeared, letting you plummet into the abyss. You don’t think Nanook is to blame. How can you blame Nanook when Nanook did nothing at all?

You clear your throat, giving Jing Yuan a sympathetic smile and placing your hands over his. “Yeah, I’m okay. My head was aching, and my ears were ringing, but I should be okay,” You whisper. “Please don’t blame yourself, Jing Yuan. I’m fine, really!”

Jing Yuan sighs, gazing at you sadly. Man, you have never seen Jing Yuan this upset before. Then again, it’s your first time seeing him like this. You have known the man for a short time, and whenever you see him, he’s either smiling or has this serious look on his face when talking to Mr. Yang, Caelus, Dan Heng, and March about something regarding the Xianzhou Luofu.

However, the Jing Yuan kneeling before you looks vulnerable and almost like he’s in physical pain from what happened. You smile at Jing Yuan, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. Jing Yuan continues to caress your face while stroking your cheek, occasionally scanning your face to see if there are any visible injuries.

“I’m sorry. This wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for me suggesting this method,” Jing Yuan whispers.

You shake your head, giving the man a small glare. “Don’t blame yourself, please, Jing Yuan. None of this is your fault. It’s no one’s fault.”

Sampo leans toward Gepard, Dan Heng, and Caelus. “Psst! I don’t know about you guys, but I’m not liking the way the General is looking at [Y/N],” Sampo whispers to the three men.

Caelus clears his throat, trying to act oblivious. “What do you mean? I’m pretty sure he’s assessing [Y/N] for any injuries,” replies Caelus, crossing his arms over his chest.

Luocha hums at Caelus’s comment, looking over where you and Jing Yuan are sitting. “Well, if that’s the case, then I can always help heal any of their injuries,” Luocha offers.

March walks away from the group and toward you and Jing Yuan, stopping a foot away from behind Jing Yuan. “Sorry for butting into the conversation, but [Y/N], you said you have a headache, and your ears are ringing! Are you really sure you’re okay?” March asks.

You slowly stand up with the help of Jing Yuan and March, who quickly rushes to your side the minute she sees you standing up. You give March a reassuring smile. “Yes, March. I’ll be okay, I promise! Plus, you know the drill. The headache and ringing in my ears won't last as long, especially the ringing. It usually goes away after a few minutes.”

After what happened, Jing Yuan decided to call it a day. You find yourself lying on a bench outside of the room, trying to process what had happened in the room. All of these scenes popping up in your head like movies made you question whether they’re real or not. Aside from the random images running through your mind, you can’t help but think about Nanook. What happened, and why did Nanook disappear all of a sudden?

“Oh, Nanook. Please let me know you’re okay,” you whisper, staring at the ceiling with bleary eyes.

You slowly start to drift off to sleep as your eyelids grow heavier and heavier with each passing minute. Right when you’re about to fall asleep, you feel like there are eyes on you. Your eyelids fly open, and you sit up, only to see Blade standing a few feet from the bench.

You press your hand against your chest. “You really need to stop popping up out of nowhere. At least give me a warning, or announce your presence!” You say, scooting over on the bench to make room for Blade.

Wordlessly, Blade walks to the bench and sits beside you, not saying a word. You hug your knees to your chest, waiting for him to say something. Blade has been silent since the incident that happened not long ago. You’re grateful that he was the one to catch you and to bring some kind of comfort to you, despite how short it was.

“You’re starting to remember, aren’t you?” Blade asks, turning his head slightly to look at you.

You make a ‘so-so’ gesture in response. “Kind of? To be honest, it doesn’t feel like a memory to me. It’s hard for me to explain it. I have conflicting feelings about whatever is going on in my head. I’m not sure if I can confirm or deny if they’re memories,” you murmur, closing your eyes while resting your chin on your knees.

You didn’t get a response from Blade. You weren’t really expecting one anyway, but out of curiosity, you open your eyes to look at Blade, only to see him reaching toward your face. You blink at Blade, and he stares at you. You look at his hand while Blade continues to stare. Blade slowly pushes your hair away from your face, tucking them behind your ear.

You have to be honest here: you were worried that Blade was going to strangle you this time. Although you’re not opposed to being choked by someone as handsome as Blade— your thoughts were interrupted by searing pain pulsing in your skull. You wince and grab your head with both hands, squeezing your eyes shut.

Blade places his hand on your shoulders, steadying you while you lean toward the edge of the bench. Whatever you have just experienced feels like a blood vein popping in your head, sending pulsating pain throughout your skull that lasts two minutes. You’re no stranger to it, you’ve felt it before, and while the pain is similar, it’s slightly different from the ones you had in the past.

Footsteps approach where you and Blade are sitting, stopping before you two. You open your eyes and look up to see Mr. Yang standing in front of you, holding a drink in front of you. Is that boba? You visibly relax and grab the drink from Mr. Yang’s hand, giving him a grateful smile.

“Thank you, Mr. Yang,” You say softly.

Mr. Yang sits beside you, sandwiching you between him and Blade. “Do you, perhaps, remember everything now? General Jing Yuan said there’s a chance you should be able to regain your memories after what happened,” says Mr. Yang.

“Kind of? I would say that I did, but I’m having a hard time processing everything, and it’s making my head hurt,” you murmur. “How did I end up in your universe, exactly? There’s no logical explanation. At least in my world, there’s none.”

That’s one good thing— being able to regain your memories despite the headaches that occur after. You want to know how you ended up in their world because, as you said before, there’s no logical explanation for how you could’ve ended up in their world. Unless Jing Yuan ended up knowing what brought you to their world. You sip the drink mindlessly, staring off into space while Mr. Yang and Blade sit in silence.

After a while, you and Blade return to the room where the others are standing. You can’t help but feel self-conscious when everyone looks at you. If they all have the answers as to why or how you ended up in their world, you hope their perception of you didn’t change.

Then again, you’re not sure how they view you other than Sampo making a comment about how he felt a connection with you. Perhaps that connection is that sense of familiarity Himeko mentioned to Mr. Yang. Gepard walks over to you, his eyebrows furrowing. You weren’t sure if he was worried or if he was angry. Either way, Gepard looks a little terrifying, and you can’t help but stop in your tracks.

Gepard stands in front of you, ignoring Mr. Yang and Blade’s presence beside you. “Are you okay? March spied on you and Blade, and she said you looked like you were about to collapse,” says Gepard.

“What?! I was not spying! Am I not allowed to check up on my friend?!” March exclaims, stomping up to Gepard with steam coming out of her ears. “Checking up on my friend’s well-being without disrupting their peace is not me stalking them, alright?”

You smile at March, watching the girl scowl at Gepard. March turns to you and gives you a sympathetic smile, holding her hand out for you to take. You grab her hand and let her drag you to where Jing Yuan and the others are waiting for you. Mr. Yang, Blade, and Gepard follow shortly after March pulls you away.

“General Jing Yuan! I have brought [Y/N] with me!” March announces, waving her arm in the air to grab the general’s attention.

Jing Yuan looks at you and smiles, gesturing for you to come closer. You feel your face heat up, walking ahead of March. You’re not prepared for what’s going to happen. You’re hoping for good news, not bad news, and judging by Jing Yuan’s smile, it’s mostly good news. Until you saw the look on Caelus and Dan Heng’s faces.

Jing Yuan places his hand on your lower back and guides you over to the floating screen. “Before I answer any of your questions, I need you to confirm that you have your memories back,” says Jing Yuan. “March mentioned how she heard you tell Blade that you’re starting to remember but can’t tell whether it’s real or not.”

Jing Yuan gestures for you to sit on the chair. Thankfully, it wasn’t the one you were sitting on before the incident. You didn’t really know what to call it other than an incident. You take a sip of your drink, nodding in response to Jing Yuan’s comment.

“Yes, it seems like I am gaining back my memories. It’s going to take a little longer for me to process everything. Since I regained my memories, are you all going to….” you trail off, looking away from the people standing before you.

Dan Heng raises his eyebrows at you. “Find a way to return you to your world?” Dan Heng asks.

You nod.

Caelus sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. “Even if we were to do that, Nanook would not be happy about it,” replies Caelus, “I mean, it’s not like we want you to go back.”

You furrow your eyebrows, looking at everyone with your head tilted to the side. What does Caelus mean by that? I mean, it’s not like you wanted to go back either since your life back in your world wasn’t as interesting or exciting as it is now that you’re in their world.

“With your connection to the Aeon, I’m surprised that Nanook has not told you the truth. After all, Nanook seems… what’s that word? Territorial? Of you,” says Luocha, giving you a sympathetic smile.

You huff, crossing your arms over your chest. “If Nanook was territorial of me, Nanook wouldn’t have disappeared all of a sudden and dropped me into the void,” you mumble. “Anyway, what does Nanook have to do with my sudden appearance in your universe?”

Everyone glances at each other as if mentally debating on who should tell you what. When no one speaks up, Sampo volunteers and grabs your hand, pressing a kiss on your knuckles. Dan Heng sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“If Nanook isn’t going to be the one to take you out, then I will,” Blade deadpans.

Sampo laughs and holds his hand in front of him. “Whoa there, buddy. I’m not interested in you taking me out on a date. I’m only interested in [Y/N],” he gestures to you, “anyway! Since no one wants to answer you, I will be the one to do it!” Sampo says dramatically.

Gepard rolls his eyes. “We came to the conclusion that Nanook is the reason why you’re here in our world. We’re all aware that we’re fictional characters in your world, but Nanook has taken a liking to you,” Gepard says.

Sampo drops your hand, crosses his arms over his chest, and glares at Gepard. Gepard ignores the glare Sampo shoots in his direction, keeping his eyes on you. You blink at Gepard, trying to process the information being given to you.

How in the world did they come up with that conclusion? Nanook, an Aeon, taking a liking to you? Well, they’re not wrong about that because of how affectionate Nanook is when you’re in the void. But how are they aware that they’re fictional characters in your world?

Mr. Yang sighs, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Nanook has taken a liking to you that the thought of being far from you is unbearable. So, Nanook somehow brought you to our world. Hence that is how you and Nanook are able to communicate with each other through your dreams.”

You sigh, suddenly feeling another wave of headaches rolling in. There was so much to process and so many questions you wanted to ask Nanook. The question is whether Nanook is going to be there when you fall asleep or if you’re going to be alone in the void. Unless Nanook wants nothing to do with you anymore. You have a feeling that the reason why Nanook disappeared all of a sudden was because Nanook was aware of the others probing your brain. Whether Nanook dragged you into their world or not, your chances of meeting them were written in the stars.

Note: I'm going to try to make a taglist form, hopefully very soon! It'll be separated from the Genshin taglist that already exists. To be really honest, I had a good title for this fic, but then it completely slipped from my mind, and I ended up choosing the current title. It was a good title, but I forgot what it was! It did involve stars. I have a mini-ish fic idea for HSR, and I'll most likely make and post it either this upcoming week or the week of my finals. To my new and/or returning readers, please keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Read more of my works on my Masterlist | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories on there too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^

#Honkai Star Rail x reader #Honkai Star Rail imagine #Honkai Star rail fanfiction #Honkai Star Rail fanfic #HSR x reader #HSR imagine #HSR fanfiction #HSR fanfic #Dan Heng x reader #Gepard Landau x reader #Sampo Koski x reader #Welt Yang x reader #Blade x reader #Jing Yuan x reader #Luocha x reader #Caelus x reader #Nanook x reader #genshinluvr

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wandering-winchesters · 1 year

Text

Who Did This To You?

Pairing: Dean x Reader Word Count: 4,077 (Oops) Summary: Sam and the reader are close friends, Dean on the other hand is kept at a distance. The reader has a boyfriend, who turns out to be abusive. What will happen when Dean finds out? Trigger Warnings: Mentions of domestic violence, bruises and brief mention of blood. Requested: No, just something I thought up. A/N: I am really happy with how this turned out, please let me know what you think. <3

Masterlist

I press the accelerator down further, hot tears brimming in my eyes, frantic to get back to the bunker. Back to safety and Sam. I need to talk to Sam, he always knows how to calm me down. My boyfriend, Chris and I had fought tonight and it had been bad, he had gotten in my face and screamed at me over the smallest thing. I put up with it for almost an hour, before I got up and left. What had started out as utter rage had slowly turned to gut wrenching sobs throughout the long drive home. I pull into the driveway for the bunker, parking next to the Impala and quickly making the walk from the car to the door. I unlock it quickly slipping inside, I kick my boots off at the front door and head to the kitchen hoping to find Sam. Much to my dismay, the face looking back at me is indeed not Sam, but the other Winchester, Dean. He looks up at me, his eyes searching my face and his brows drawing together when he notices my expression and the tears on my cheeks. I sniff, quickly wiping them away but it’s too late, he’s already seen them.

“Where’s Sam?” I ask, drawing on every ounce of strength within in me to keep my wits about me for a few more minutes. Dean takes his time to answer, taking a sip from the beer he is holding as he studies me carefully. I shift my weight from one foot to the other, waiting anxiously for his reply.

“He went out for a bit, said he needed to get out of the bunker. Can’t say I blame him.” He says, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth momentarily before taking another sip of his beer. I give Dean a short nod and mutter a thanks before turning on my heel, intent upon heading straight to my room but his voice stops me once again.

“You’ve been crying.” He states, matter-of-factly. I freeze in my tracks, weighing my next options carefully. Why does he care? He’s seen me cry before and it hasn’t exactly made him kinder to me. I square my shoulders and turn around to face him once again, his eyes still locked on me. He looks as if he is carefully analyzing my every move, every breath I take and every word that I speak. He’s leaning against the counter top, one leg bent resting on the cabinet behind him. His arms crossed across his chest, supporting the hand that’s holding his beer.

“Why do you care?” I ask, my voice a bit more volatile than I initially intended. I am too tired to put effort into being nice to him, a sentiment that he rarely ever gives to me. He is slightly taken aback by my words, a fact made obvious by the way he holds his hands up to the side, shrugging his shoulders slightly.

“Just thought you might want to talk about it, since Sam isn’t here.” He replies, his tone soft and gentle, something I’d never received from him before. It wasn’t like we were enemies or anything, but he didn’t particularly care for me and I shared the same sentiment about him. We butted heads over everything, he always tried to hold me back on hunts, making me feel incapable and inferior.

“Ill be fine.” I mutter, moving to walk away once again, and once again he stops me his words cutting through me like a silver knife.

“Did he hurt you?” He asks, his voice unreadable, but his face screams danger, depending on my answer. I look at him, my eyes searching his face for any explanation of where this was coming from, but he’s impassive other than anger. I don’t trust my voice, so I shake my head no. It wasn’t exactly a lie, he hadn’t physically hurt me, he didn’t need to his verbal threats were enough.

“I’m just going to go to bed. Thanks anyways.” I say and he nods slightly but he’s not fooled. I turn and actually walk away this time and make it to my room before my tears start to fall again. I sit down on the edge of my bed pulling my phone out of my pocket, intending to send Sam a text, but I am distracted by the multiple messages flooding the screen. Beginning with anger and threats, before changing to apologies and begging for my forgiveness. I toss my phone onto the floor, too tired to deal with the nonsense tonight. The interaction with Dean replays in my head, his kindness strange and cause for reflection. It isn’t as if he was ever a complete asshole to me, but he was never fond of me. I had always been Sam’s friend and Dean just put up with my presence. Neither one of them ever intended for me to start hunting with them, it was a matter of wrong place wrong time. Sam and I had met in college and I went looking for him when he disappeared from classes, the week I found him happened to be when the yellow eyed demon came calling a few years ago, and I had stuck with them ever since. Intent upon learning everything I could about the supernatural. Sam had welcomed me in with open arms and Dean had been dragged along kicking and screaming, metaphorically speaking. Well, mostly metaphorically, he did a lot of yelling. So the concern Dean had for me tonight, was well concerning. It was throwing me for a bit of a loop, curiosity sparking within me. Did he actually care about me and his disdain for me was just a front? No, surely not. I had been with them for three years and this was an utter first. I brush the thoughts aside and close my eyes, hoping that sleep will over take me. Hours later, it finally does.

I wake to knocking on my door, I yell out a muffled come in, and Sam sticks his head in, his expression apologetic.

“Hey sorry to wake you, I am about to head out but I wanted to check in on you before I do. Dean said you were upset and looking for me last night, you could’ve called me Y/N, I would have come back earlier.” I had sat up in bed to look at him and he had opened my door the rest of the way. I smiled softly at the tall man standing in front of me, his hair messy and the collar on his flannel offset.

“Its okay Sammy, you have a good night out?” I ask and he grins sheepishly, nodding his head in response.

“Yeah, actually, I met a girl at the bar. I am heading back to her place now actually. You doing okay?” He asks me, his smile contagious. I chuckle, shaking my head slightly, but smile back at him.

“Yeah I am good, go get ‘em tiger.” He laughs at my response, and jogs off down the hallway yelling a see you later over his shoulder. He had forgotten to shut my door behind him, I sigh throwing my blankets to the side and standing up beside my bed.

I stretch my body, groaning slightly as the tension in my shoulders works it way out. I throw on the jeans I had worn yesterday, before finding a new shirt to wear, I settle on my favorite green tee, a memento from my college years. I pick my phone up from the floor, scanning the mass of texts and calls all from one person. Before sending him a quick message,

8:33 A.M. I’ll be over shortly, I just woke up.

I take a deep breath and grab my keys from my dresser and head towards the entry to the bunker. Dean is in the kitchen again, this time making himself breakfast. He gives me a slight smile as I walk past him towards the door. I smile back but keep on my path to my boots, still left haphazardly by the door where I had tossed them last night. “Need breakfast?” Dean calls from the behind me, I look back over my shoulder and see him standing in the doorway to the kitchen, skillet in one hand, towel in the other.

“Not hungry, thanks though. I’ll be back later!” I say, beginning to head out the door to the bunker. I hear him call out something along the lines of ‘be careful’ but I don’t stop to question it, our interaction from last night still weirding me out.

In hindsight, I should’ve gone back inside this morning. Had breakfast with Dean and ignored Chris’ frenzy of messages. Going over his place this morning was probably the worst idea I have ever had, it hadn’t gone well, worse than I had ever imagined. His messages to me last night and this morning had me convinced that he would apologize for his actions and yet that is the farthest thing from what happened. By the time I had gotten there, he had switched from apologetic to angry again. Instead of his words, he let his fists do the talking. The first time catching me so off guard it knocked me off my feet successfully splitting my lip, the second time I had dodged his blow, stepping out of his reach and yelling at him to keep his hands off of me and trying to leave. But the third. The third landed square on my jaw, knocking me unconscious.

I had come to from Chris shaking me and crying apologies. His touch sending waves of nausea through me, revolted by the thought of him. Glancing at my reflection in the surface of his coffee table I noticed the rapidly forming bruise. A mark that would serve as a vivid reminder of his actions and my inability of acting like a good, obedient girlfriend. Or so he said, after spending the morning accusing me of cheating on him with Sam. No matter what I said, it wasn’t enough to convince him that we were just friends and he had just lost it on me. I had left in a rush when he went to the bathroom, leaving everything but my phone and my keys behind on his couch. The ache in my body spurring me to move faster out of his place and into the safety of my car. The seconds it took me to get from his living room to the drivers seat, felt like an eternity. I had driven as fast as I dared back to the bunker, checking my rear view mirror constantly watching and waiting for him to appear behind me, but he didn’t. So here I sit, outside the bunker, debating the best way to get into my room without someone noticing the bruises still forming on my face. Not wanting the attention or, more likely the “I told you so’s” from Dean. I grabbed the hat from my passenger seat, tugging it low over my face. I rearrange my hair, framing it around my face in such a way that it covers as much of my jaw as it can. I take a deep breath and exit my vehicle, taking the few steps required into the bunker.

I shut the door as quietly as I can, taking soft steps towards my room. I hope to make it into the safety and silence of my room without anyone noticing, I am not even sure who is home at this time but I don’t want to see either of them. I had nearly reached the safety of my space, but I head Dean’s door swing open behind me.

“Y/N, you’re home sooner than I expected. Sam isn’t back yet.” He says and I freeze in my tracks, praying he doesn’t continue the conversation.

“Okay, thanks!” I say, my voice coming out shrill and unsteady, the opposite of what I was trying to sound like. I hear him move to close his door, but he hesitates and I can feel his eyes burning a hole in the back of my head.

“What happened to your jeans? Why is there blood on them?” He asks, and I internally curse myself out for my stupidity. I had wiped my hand across my thigh after wiping the blood off my busted lip. I must have taken too long to give him an answer, because I hear him moving closer to me and I close my eyes waiting for the moment that I had hoped to avoid. “Y/N, look at me.” He says and I can feel him ever so close to me. I turn around, keeping my eyes trained on the ground and my face angled away from him. He reaches out and gently grabs my chin, pulling it towards him so he can see me. I bite my tongue to keep the slight gasp from slipping past, his touch on my bruised jaw causing a ripple of pain to travel throughout my nerves, but he notices and his touch lightens. The opposite of his face, his expression darkens, eyes traveling over my skin. His other hand comes up and pulls my baseball hat off my head, revealing all of the color spreading through my skin, reds and purples mainly at this point in time.

“Who did this to you?” He growls, not waiting for a response his hand drops to my wrist and tugs me behind him. I follow his lead back towards the kitchen, when we get there he points to the counter muttering one word through his angry stupor, “Sit.” I don’t, but he doesn’t notice immediately, his attention turning to something else. He walks over to the freezer and digs out the ice packs that we kept frozen for any injuries that might surface.

When he turns around, his eyes are trained on me, a scowl engrained in his features. He sets the icepack down, before he turns to me, grabs my waist and lifts me up onto the countertop. I am caught off guard by his actions, a gasp leaving my lips from his sudden movements. His hands on my hips the most amount of physical touch that has ever been shared between the two of us.

I train my eyes to the floor, not daring to meet his gaze. He had stepped away again, digging through the cabinets for what I think is the first aid kit. I begin to let my thoughts wander, the dull ache in my jaw pulling me back to the moment that it happened. The pure evil hidden behind his eyes, the look of absolute enjoyment he had as he watched me struggle, his hands rough and violent against my body. But I am snapped back to reality by Dean’s gentle touch, his fingertips gingerly raising my chin to look at him. Tears are beginning to form in my eyes, adrenaline wearing off and emotion taking back over. I take a deep breath, hating the way my lip quivers, still dreading showing weakness to the older Winchester. He notices, he notices all of it, but he doesn’t say anything. He gently wipes away my tears and brings a cold cloth to my lip, cleaning up the cut from the first punch. I can feel anger radiating off of his skin, even though his touch is displaying the complete opposite.

“Did Chris do this?” He asks, his attention moving from the split in my lip to the gash on my forehead. I hiss as he wipes it clean, an antiseptic wipe pinched between his fingers, he mutters a slight apology, but continues patching me up.

“Yeah, he did. He lost it on me this morning, over nothing. It’s my fault though, I ignored all of his messages after I came home last night, so he was angry.” Dean freezes, his fingers stilling on my skin. I look up at him, confused as to why he stopped and I notice his jaw is clenched so tight that it has to be painful.

“Don’t ever say those words again, you hear me?” He locks his eyes on mine, fury absolutely radiating off of every inch of his body. “None of this, none, is your fault, you got it?” His words are sharp and pointed, his intent clear. I nod in response, he obviously didn’t want to hear anymore, got it. I would keep my mouth shut.

He continues patching me up, before he stills, looking me over from head to toe once more. He hands me the ice-pack he had laid out and instructs me to keep it on my jaw. He turns his back to me and washes his hands in the kitchen sink.

“Where does the fucker live?” He asks, his voice low and so calm that it scares me slightly.

“Why Dean?” This is when he snaps, the anger that has been coursing through him coming out in one big tsunami of a wave, now that he knows I am okay.

“Because I am going to go beat the absolute hell out of him, show him a bit of his own medicine.” He says, each word leaving his lips like a bullet leaving a gun. Dangerous and aimed at one specific target.

I sit quietly, unsure how to respond.

“Why? I didn’t think you’d care this much, figured-“

“Oh for fucks sake!” He interrupts me and I jump from the sheer volume of his voice, he walks back over to me and stands directly in between my knees, he rests his hands on my thighs and his eyes meet my own once again.

“I have always cared about you Y/N, from that day you showed up at our motel. Your search for Sam finally at an end. I have watched you let men into your life that don’t give two shits about you, I have watched how they treated you and I have hated every single one. None of them deserve you, they are all pitiful excuses for boyfriends. I heard you crying to Sam, each time one of them broke your heart and I had to sit back and not do anything about it. You deserve more than anyone can give you, including myself. Which is why I never said anything, I kept you at a distance. I can’t do that anymore, I can’t keep watching you put yourself into these situations. God, if you hadn’t left, he could have killed you. Probably would have killed you, and then I never would have been able to tell you that I-, that I love you.” He says, his voice growing less angry after each word leaves his mouth. My brain is spinning by the end of his speech, his words swirling around my head making me dizzy. He squeezes my leg gently, causing me to snap back to reality once again.

I blink at him, once, twice, three times before his words finally settle over me and I am completely speechless. I never saw this coming, I admit I have feelings for him, but I had pushed them so far away because of his hatred for me.

“Dean, I-I don’t know what to say. I always thought you hated me, so I supressed my feelings for you, I dated other men because I thought you would never want anything to do with me. I’m sorry, that I hurt you. I love you too.” I whisper, my hands coming to rest on top of his. He tugs me towards him, his fingers digging into my hips and sliding me across the counter into his embrace.

“God, Y/N, I am so sorry he did this to you. He will never lay a finger on you again, I promise.” He says, his voice barely registering because of how quiet he is speaking. I can hear how close he is to tears, but don’t mention it to him. I hug him back and relish the way his touch makes me feel. How safe I am in his presence, every fear melting away.

I hear the door to the bunker open and Sam calls out a greeting. Dean pulls away from me slightly, but keeps his hand resting on my thigh.

“In the kitchen Sammy.” He calls out, and gently squeezes my leg in reassurance.

Sam rounds the corner and stops dead in his tracks, his eyes locking on my bruised face and anger quickly replaces the initial shock.

I look away from him, shame creeping over me. I put myself into the situation and this was the outcome, now both of them are aware of what I got myself into and it is crashing down on me in waves. I hear Dean talking to Sam, explaining everything that had happened. By the end of it, both boys were rearing to go track him down and give him a taste of his own medicine, or worse. Little did we all know, they were about to get their chance and they wouldn’t even have to leave the bunker.

A knock sounds at the door and Sam trails off mid sentence, glancing between Dean and myself, an obvious attempting at asking if we were expecting someone. Neither of us were, and suddenly it hit me. He’s here, he had followed me. My heart is in my throat, my breathing is heightened and shallow. My eyes meet Deans and he knows exactly what I am thinking. “Stay here, sweetheart. Sam, let’s go.” He says, giving me one last look before the two of them walk out of the room and towards the source of the incessant knocking. I don’t listen however, I slide down off the counter and hurry after them. Not wanting to be left alone and waiting to find out the outcome of this visit. Dean throws open the door to the bunker, immediately grabbing my now ex-boyfriend by the collar of his shirt and pushing him backwards away from the entrance. Sam is quick to step outside next to Dean, the boys creating a wall between me and Chris. Dean withholds the fury of his fist and issues quite a few colorful threats, instilling a healthy fear into Chris. He pulls him up by his shirt again and shoves him towards his car. They stand, watching him leave before turning and heading back into the bunker. Sam is quick to be by my side, pulling me into a hug. Apologies flying from his lips. I reassure him that I am okay, my eyes remaining locked on Dean. Hoping that the moment that we had shared wasn’t a one time thing, dying to once again be in his arms.

I excuse myself from the two of them, heading to the bathroom to clear my head. I spend a few minutes in there, my hands gripping the edge of the sink. Taking breath, after breath, trying to pull myself together. The whirlwind of a day, completely blindsiding me. I open the door to the bathroom and scan the hallway, empty. I take a chance and cross the hall towards Dean’s room. Knocking on the door and being beckoned in by his voice on the other side of the door.

I open the door and cross the threshold, closing the door quietly behind me. His eyes are on me immediately and I stare back at him, my heart nearly beating out of my chest. Four words hang heavy in my throat, fear of rejection constricting my voice. I clear my throat and finally utter the words I had been thinking.

“Did you mean it?”

“Of course I did, Y/N. I will always mean it.” He whispers, and that is all it takes for me to cross the room and throw my arms around him. He immediately hugs me back, tugging me as close to him as physically possible. His lips press against my forehead, sending shivers down my spine. The warmth his body provides is all consuming and like heaven on earth. A feeling that I had never had before, it was clear that this was where I was meant to be.

“I will always keep you safe Y/N, I promise you that. I love you.” Dean says, his lips brushing against my skin as he speaks. I knew he meant it with all of his heart and that was more than enough for me.

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knmaskitten · 1 month

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Love me back ⊹ ♡

Pairing: Kageyama Tobio/ afab!reader.

Summary: inspired by love me back by fromis_9. You moved to your new house thanks to college, and one day, as you were preparing to deliver a gift to your neighbour, you encountered said person, Kageyama Tobio. After that, you keep longing to bump into him and slowly get him to correspond to your feelings. But when that does not happen, you plan a scheme with your best friend as the ultimate test to see if Tobio likes you or not.

warnings/tags: afab!fem reader. No use of y/n. Neighbours to lovers. Kageyama really is bad at expressing love. Reader is head over heels. A little bit of physical descriptions but nothing specific like hair color, length, etc. You use Oikawa Tooru to make Kageyama jealous. Oikawa is your best friend.

notes: I wanted to write this since so long ago, Kageyama is one of my favorite boys. As always, this was not proof read so I apologize for any bad grammar. Not necessary but english is my second language so have that in mind while reading. As always my AO3 is here (I post there first).

wc: 2,500

It was so utterly frustrating having to look at him all day long, knowing how your heart wanted to escape your ribcage every time you exchanged glances with his dark ocean eyes. You longed to see him every day, whether the sun was at its highest or lowest. You wanted to see him. For him to notice you and to exchange more than just “Hi” or “How are you?”. You’re sure you would have a stroke if he ever said something related to your outfits, which you carefully picked whenever you were going to “accidentally” bump into him.

Being neighbours with Kageyama was going to be the death of you. Your anxiety went through the roof when you thought about him, which was no bueno. Your cortisol levels were so high that your therapist advised you to finally blurt out a confession to him so you could be let out of this misery. But no, you were not that kind of girl anymore. All your life, you were the one who always had to confess to everybody, and you hated not being the one being confessed to. This had a huge impact on your self-esteem and made you doubt if you were loveable enough to be even considered a lover.

You were a nice lover, you thought. It isn’t like you haven’t dated anyone before this crush. Your first boyfriend, Marco, was a nice guy™ and you two had a very nice relationship. The thing is, your first relationship was just nice—not passionate, not vehement, not ardent, not fervent—nothing. Just nice. And it was rare to feel what you felt towards Kageyama; you were sure it wasn’t just infatuation; you could already feel what it really was and what it really meant.

You were Kageyama’s right-side neighbour. You moved by yourself, next to where he lived, a few years ago because of college. You met him on your second day in your new home. He was returning from practise; he looked sweaty and tired. He had a jacket that said “Japan” on it, a volleyball ball on his right hand, and his sports bag on his shoulder. His hair was dark and messy, giving him a certain kind of freshness. You were casually walking towards his house, a friendly gift on your hands, hoping to form good bonds with your neighbours.

He observed you carefully and analyzed you, as if he were searching for something else behind your clear intentions. He did not smile at you, but he did stop walking to face you fully, silently questioning you. So you nervously replied:

“I’m…I’m your new neighbour!” You tried not to yell, but your words came out a lot louder than you intended to. This made you feel wobbly, with the tray in your hands threatening to fall to the ground. “I made some strawberry shortcake for you.” You pointed with your head towards the tray; it was a cute, soft pink platter with a ribbon design. It was trembling slightly thanks to your jitters.

“Thank you.” He bowed towards you, his hair moving with its movements. You paid attention to how his muscles flexed and then relaxed, creating wrinkles in his jacket and sports shorts. “I’m sorry, I don’t have anything for you.”

“That’s not necessary; this was just a small gesture. You dont have to give me anything, really.” You blurted your verbiage out without thinking. What was going on? You usually weren’t this awkward with people. You had confidence, which you slowly but surely cultivated through the years, and it was really hard for your ego to accept that a mere boy could have this impact on you.

He was a handsome boy with knowing eyes; his eyes were hungry to analyze the world around him, and the profound, dark blue ocean that his eyes were had you wanting to explore every nook and cranny in them. He was taller than you—almost 20 centimeters taller, giving him a certain kind of power over you. He had a toned and muscular figure, which coincided with the fact that he was a volleyball player, which you admired. You guessed he played in the Japanese volleyball league, making him a professional at what he did. And that was so interesting.

It just occurred to you that he perfectly could have rejected your dessert, given the fact that he needs to eat well and your shortcake was considered junk food. This fact struck your heart like lightning, making you feel butterflies in your stomach. He looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to pass him the tray. It seems you were in awe for too long because he gave you a frown.

“Right, sorry, here you go.”

"Later.” He said while walking towards his house, leaving you perplexed.

That was the first time you two had any interaction. You took every opportunity you had to talk to him: sometimes you needed sugar, other times you needed a kitchen supply he had, and one time you needed help grabbing something from the top of your kitchen cabinets that you couldn’t reach. Other times you nonchalantly waited outside your home, seemingly sweeping your entrance, while you knew he would return from practise around this hour.

One particular time, he looked strangely dazed and out of tune, which you knew (by observing him so much) was weird. You had your broom on your hand, and the leaves in the cement were in a little pile right to your feet. You kept looking at him without a care in the world, scrutinizing him. This did not go unnoticed by him.

“Do I have something in my face?” He straightforwardly said, making eye contact with you. His back was ever so slightly arched and his hair was sticking to his forehead. His blue eyes were lit up with annoyance.

“Kageyama-kun, are you alright? You look out of it.” Worry seeped out of your words, a tender breeze brushing your hair.

“N—no! I mean, yes! I’m fine” He replied a little bit flustered, like he didn’t expect you to read him so well.

You left your broom on the side of your fence and you started walking towards him until you faced him. Face to face, he had to arch his back a little bit more to look at your eyes, which were full of a weird determination.

“Kageyama-kun I know I’m not your friend, but I can help you if you desire; I’m right next to you, and I swear I will do my best.” You stated that you were dead set on helping him out; even if he rejected your offer, you wanted to let him know you were worried about him. The sun shone on the right side of his face, highlighting his skin in a dance of light and shadows. This made time slow down around you, leaving just the two of you in this odd bubble you created.

“I…” He pouted, averting his gaze from yours as he frowned. “I just had a bad practise, that’s all.” He reluctantly said it in a mumble.

With all the will and courage you could possibly muster up, you walked even closer to him and gave him a big, tight hug, mumbling in a low and serene tone, “You’re still an amazing player.”

He trembled and then squished out of your hug, flustered. “I know!” he yelled, pointing to you with his index finger. ”I won’t lose!”

Kageyama was never socially good, and he was even less good with friends. So he did what he knew best: yell and challenge. You stood still, thinking you fucked up, your feelings bubbling in the pit of your stomach as anxiety started to gain a strong presence in you.

“S—sorry.” You muttered before walking rapidly towards your home, obviously not before taking your broom with you. You stopped on your heels, turned towards him and gave him a bow “Excuse me!” You yelled, leaving him there.

And after that, you both exchanged conversations that tacitly had something behind them. You sometimes thought Kageyama hated you and other times that he merely had to stand your presence, but once you thought he saw you as something else. You wanted him to look at you the way you looked at him, to long for your presence like you did his, to analyze your figure and eyes like you did his. To invite you on a damn date! If he didn’t hurry, you were going to finally accept the advances of a guy at your college.

In the battle of egos, you were not going to lose; you had a strong resolve, and that was: Kageyama had to confess to you. And it is not like you didn’t do anything to achieve this; you kept giving him gifts and kept advising him when he looked troubled. You secretly loved when he gave you attention, even if it was just crumbs. You had the opportunity to know a little bit more about him in every exchange you guys had, craving every chance you had of getting his attention. The feeling of his eyes on you, looking at only you with a certain kind of intent.

This went on for about six months—six long months of crumbs. And you were so not having it that you managed to get Kageyama’s phone number and his socials (you always waited for him to text or call you, but he never did, so you reluctantly had to be the one to initiate the conversation), but even then, you were not certain as to what he felt for you. Did he love you as well? Did he hate you? You were so nervous, uncertainty filling your body to the brim.

So, you decided to do a scheme with your best friend, Oikawa Tooru. This was evil in many ways, as you knew the rivalry Tobio had with your best friend. You met Tooru on a trip to your aunt’s house in Miyagi, and after a weirdly funny encounter, you two hit it off as best friends. You rarely met, but this was no excuse for how close you two grew together. It really was a coincidence that the “stupid setter from Karasuno” that Oikawa often talked about turned out to be Kageyama, which was stupidly funny.

You definitely were not the type to do these type of schemes, but you were desperate. You needed at least a glance that said I love you—a lovingly full of attention glance. And this fact also ashamed you; a guy had you craving attention; he had you in the palm of his hand, and he was so oblivious to it. This simply made you furious; you were not one to give into a guy this easily, and it made you angry that he didn’t show any signs.

So, you decided to carry out your plan. You called Oikawa and discussed with him:

“Tooru-chan, accept, please.” You pleaded.

“Using me! Huh! And to make Tobio-chan jealous! Him, of all people!” He said, frustrated and a little bit offended. “Why him, dear? Why him?”

“Please, Tooru, he means a lot to me.”

“But he is an idiot if you have to go to these lengths to get his attention.” He scolded you.

“But, Tooru, I love him!” You cried over the phone.

There was a brief silence on the other line; you could only hear the faint sound of static.

“You are lucky I’m in Japan right now.” He said, resigning to your plan.

“I love you, Tooru! You’re amazing!”

Happily, you hung up the phone. The plan was as follows: he was going to pick you up for a “date” at the time Tobio arrived home from practise, and then you two were actually going to go out because Oikawa asked to at least have some real time with his best friend. So you texted him with the date and time he had to be at your front door. You insisted on him looking extra handsome that day and reacted with, “I’m always extra handsome! >:c” .

When the day came, you decided to pamper yourself. You wore makeup today; you wore a light pink eyeshadow that highlighted your eyes, applying a little bit of glitter at the center of your lid. You carefully placed your blush to make you look naturally flushed. You did your winged liner and used mascara. You successfully enhanced your natural beauty. You left your hair down, as it was what you were most comfortable with. You wanted to look cute, so you picked a white, flowy dress that made you shine. You paired it with black Mary Jane shoes and white socks, as well as a pearly necklace with a purple gem.

At six thirty, your door bell rang and a text bubble appeared on the screen of your phone: “Open the door, dummy.” . And so you hurried up. You put your phone in your black purse and grabbed a black jacket to pair your dress with. You ran downstairs towards the door and opened it very happily.

“Tooru!” you exclaimed, excited. As you hugged your friend tightly, you peeked over his shoulder and saw Kageyama’s figure approaching. You whispered, "Ok, Tooru, let’s do it. Kageyama’s coming”

You knew you were going to get a reaction from him, but not this one. He stopped, looking between you and Oikawa; he got the clue instantly as he saw you both well dressed. You could swear you saw fire coming out of him.

“Oikawa.” He said it in a low tone, angrily.

“Tobio-chan!” He cheerfully replied.

“What are you doing with her? How do you know her?” He blurted out, arching his brow, walking closer to you.

“Going on a date. Not that its any of your business.” Oikawa gave him an annoyed smile.

“No, you’re not.” You swear you and Oikawa are still in your places, surprised by this. Your heart started to race.

“You’re not fair!” You yelled at him, feeling overwhelmed. “You ignore me, then forbid me from going on a date?”

“I…its just…I." He started.

“You what?”

He then walked towards you fully, and taking you by the shoulders, he kissed you passionately. His hands were not moving, and you were so stunned that it took you a second to correspond with him. Oikawa stood still, a little awkward. He decided to slowly walk towards your door and leave you two to it. He was still going to have his time with you nonetheless.

“Oikawa is not the right guy for you. I am. I think I love you. I want you.”

You didn’t say anything, as those words were the one thing you wanted to hear the most, for the longest of times. And you had it now, and it felt amazingly odd; it was a new feeling that meant your love was reciprocated.

“Oikawa is my best friend. I love you, idiot.”

And then you hugged him, and this time he hugged you back.

Thank you for reading <3

masterlist and more.

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angstics · 1 year

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i finally articulated my opinion on my "is gerard way doing drag" question. my definition of drag is when a person impersonates, exaggerates, or appropriates a mode of gender expression. drag can be artistic or political (or both). drag can be an identity. drag and transgender identity are confused as the same thing. for some, it is. what is considered cross dressing can also be considered drag. it's important to note that drag is essential to queer culture, and how the us government harasses queer people through cross dressing, and now anti-drag, laws. we wouldnt be here talking about pop artists doing drag without drag performers and nonbinary-trans-gnc people.

to some people, a self-identified man in a female-identified dress is drag. "cross dressing" depends on cishet norms. queer people, especially nonbinary-trans-gnc people, have called to dismantle the assignment of gender to clothing. under that lens, a man in a dress is just a man in a dress -- for it to be drag, context and intent matters. that's how you get women doing female drag, or androgynous people doing what gerard way's been doing this last year on tour.

in asking "is gerard way doing drag?", im assigning importance to the topic. does it matter? within my understanding, drag is about intent and context as much as gender presentation. intent and context is what makes something important. therefore: understanding why the question is important solves it.

male music artists have a long history of cross dressing and doing drag. there's a good chance plugging any dude into a search engine with "drag" or "skirt" will bring something up. bowie, queen, nirvana, manic street preachers, placebo. here's a list. newer artists: lil nas x, harry styles, anthony green, pete wentz, young thug. some are impersonating female caricatures, some are masculinizing female clothes (long, ill-fitting, straight). some, like molko and lil nas, wear feminine clothes without exaggerating or masculinizing. gerard is in that same grey area.

male music artists have a long history of cross dressing and doing drag -- photos: "i want to break free" mv by queen (1984) / placebo in london (oct 1998) / lil nas x at audacy beach festival (dec 5, 2021) / fall out boy at rock for people (june 17, 2022)

all that history is why it was so weird when kerrang called gerard's riot fest "dress and heels" "a compelling show of contrarian anti-rock star eccentricity". it is not anti-rock star, at least not as described. it may be compelling, contrarian, and eccentric, but no reviewer really cares to analyze why. the closest they get is by identifying non-binary connection (them.us) and its relation to the "minefield that is American gender politics today" (latimes.com).

fans were struck by way's outfits for a lot of other reasons.

1. we have to get it out of the way that they just looked hot -- gerard is perpetually attractive, skirts are pretty. easy equation.

2. he has a long history of gender nonconformity. more on that in my #mcr queer studies tag. gerard is a 45 year old famously androgynous person who doesnt do labels, aligns himself with gender nonconformity (2014 reddit ama, 2018 advocate article, 2015 he/they tweet), and doesnt seem to care to be known as a man.

3. the tour outfits were well-fitted. many were crafted by skilled designer marina toybina and her team. which leads to ->

4. the outfits were very casual and very feminine. as mentioned, most men opt for masculine, ill-fitting skirts. which is to say they are NOT showing leg and they are definitely not showing ass. gerard doesnt steer clear from shortness or tightness or movement. he also dresses in ways people dress day to day -- the miniskirt is as casual as the shorts as casual as the jeans. there's some discussion to be had about what casual means -- he could be imitating expected presentation or just using basics, like his frequent shirt and pants.

the miniskirt is as casual as the shorts as casual as the jeans -- photos: firefly music festival (sept 23, 2022) / uncasville (sept 1, 2022) / eden project night 1 (may 16, 2022)

5. there was variety. many outfits, many types. he wasnt just doing pure femininity. some looks were high concept, some low concept. some gendered, some genderless. some feminine, some masculine. it was playful. its honesty evident in its fluidity yet cohesiveness. expanded in the next points ->

6. they incorporate elements of masculinity and gender neutrality concurrent with the feminine. his aggressive, energetic performance style often doesnt mind what people are seeing when his skirt lifts or shirt droops. he has little to no make-up -- if he does, it's stage and not glam. the closest he gets is the agender black swan look at boston night 1, the stage contour at wwwy night 3, and dubious lipstick at firefly. he also maintains the same hairstyle: barely styled, not straightened-curled. pinned a few times, gelled back some other times.

he has little to no make-up -- if he does, it's stage and not glam -- photos: boston night 1 (sept 7, 2022) / when we were young night 3 (oct 29, 2022) / firefly music festival (sept 23, 2022)

7. the character outfits weren't caricatures, like green's sleazy hooker or queen's uptight housewives. gerard's characters were appropriated but not exaggerated. cheerleader, nurse, manson girl, jackie o, princess diane, st joan. all figures of pop culture. he wore them as they were. even comparing green and way's similar white-green cheerleader costumes there's a difference in presentation. green wears long leggings, way wears shorts. green's costume is based on a stranger things character, way's is a custom remade vintage outfit. green exhibits the masculinization of feminine clothes which way subverts. this comparison highlights what makes way's outfits different, and therefore exciting to talk about.

green exhibits the masculinization of feminine clothes which way subverts -- photos: saosin in garden grove, ca (oct 27, 2022) / mcr in nashville, tn (aug 23, 2022)

8. and when he played with masculinity, it was in a way that was dubbed "boydrag". the new jersey night 2 casino singer look was a dramatic caricature that heightened masculine features until they were pure style... the defintion of camp. he had a mustache -- thin like john waters or a confirmed bachelor, and drawn on with eyeliner. he had a suit -- a pink-gold, glittery woman's cut jacket with a glittery bowtie and pleated shirt. the dramatic flair is accentuated by the black eye make-up, the frank sinatra "my way" cover, the drum tag: "the house always wins".

the defintion of camp -- photos: new jersey night 2 (sept 21, 2022) 1 / 2

when i asked which outfits others considered drag, all replies identified the casino singer and jackie o as drag and the rest as "just clothes". this relation made me understand why the rest couldnt be drag despite all the connections i talked about above. the jackie o outfit doesnt exaggerate the source like casino singer, but the source itself is both highly dramatic and highly gendered. cheer is gendered but not highly dramatic, st joan dramatic but not highly gendered. diane is gendered and dramatic, but not highly. the list goes on and on. it's a fine line. especially cheer could tip into drag for me.

but the source itself is both highly dramatic and highly gendered -- photos: mcr at riot fest (oct 12, 2022) / jackie kennedy onassis (jan 3, 1971)

if drag is understood in this way, simply wearing gendered clothes isnt drag. the look itself has to be about the performance of gender, however that may be presented. that’s the importance of classification. we can see what the artist is doing.

#mcr #gerard way #mcr queer studies #mcr performance studies #qessay #mcr fashion studies

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deepouterspacecandy · 3 months

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To Build A Home

Did I say I was taking a break from writing because I need to focus on my training? Yes. Did I write a quick blurb about how much Abby loves you while I was on the treadmill today? Also, yes. The title comes from a song that will forever make me sob, but you probably already know. Cheers, you beautiful souls.

Abby’s straightforward nature means she often struggles with nuance and subtlety in her interactions with you.

There are certain instances where misunderstandings occur, leading her to withdraw into her own thoughts rather than pursuing clarification. Occasionally, she requires solitude to recharge and reflect, particularly when haunted by distressing memories.

In these moments of her deep, introspective silence, you get anxious about the state of your connection. It can feel like she’s not pleased with you, or that the bond between you is slipping, but that assumption couldn’t be further from the truth.

Experiencing romantic love with you, the first and only woman in her life, helped her envision how extraordinary it could all be, heightening her fear of losing something so precious.

Her admiration for you grows with each passing year.

“Are we okay?” you ask. “We’re good, right?”

You push your food around your plate, the sound of your fork clinking against the porcelain adding to your unease.

It’s possible that your sensitive heart is over analyzing her quiet disposition, but you can’t bear to let your concerns fester unchecked.

Surprised by your question, Abby gazes at you intently from across the table.

“What do you mean?” she asks.

Taking the time to ponder, you understand that being transparent is the optimal way to handle the situation.

“Do I still make you happy?”

Abby settles back into her chair with a frown, her mind racing as she searches for the perfect response to convey the extent of her fondness for you. Every now and then, you find comfort in her words of reassurance, but for Abby, actions hold more weight, especially at a time like this.

“Come outside with me,” she says. Rising from her chair, she reaches out to help you up. “There’s something I want to show you.”

Leading you by the hand, she intertwines her fingers with yours and takes you from the backyard into the forest.

When you initially crossed paths with Abby fifteen years ago, she was meandering the trails of your Montana ranch, stirring up dust with each heavy step. Seeking sanctuary from the chaos and uncertainty that followed the fall of her group, all she wanted was a place to hang her hat. You damn near shot it off her head, startled by the unexpected visitor. Ages had passed since the previous one, excluding the infected, and you learned early on to trust nobody in this dangerous world.

Glimpsing her now, beautifully etched by fine lines and battle scars, it’s impossible to fathom your life without her.

“Where are you taking me?” you ask.

Her touch is delicate as she pulls your hand closer, pressing a sweet kiss onto the back of it.

“Hold your horses.”

“Is this where I meet my maker?” you tease.

When she doesn’t answer right away, you give her a playful nudge, and she hums in response.

“Abigail, if you’re planning to bury me out here, it’s only polite to give me a heads up.”

As her eyes lock with yours, she gently nudges you in return.

“Look up,” she says.

Above you, a sturdy lumber structure hovers thirty feet in the air, cradled by the protective arms of gnarled, ancient trees. Vines adorn the wooden walls, clusters of white flowers blooming throughout, forming a natural tapestry that drapes down the sides. You notice a warm ochre glow seeping through gaps in the planks, revealing the secret hiding place of all those fairy lights you thought you misplaced.

A wrap-around porch with its intricate, entangled branches draws your attention to a rope ladder, inviting you to climb and explore.

“Abby,” you murmur.

With her bottom lip caught between her teeth, she restlessly twirls her hands.

“Do you like it?” she asks.

The realization hits you suddenly that she must have invested months into this project, overwhelming for her, given her fear of heights.

“You said you always wanted one as a kid, so I thought—it’s never too late, right?” she continues.

While suspicions of her growing tired of you preoccupied your mind, Abby was venturing off to build you a whimsical haven in the trees as a token of her affection. Just when you thought you couldn’t love her more than you already do, she swoops in to prove you wrong.

With your fists clenched around her shirt, you pull her into you.

“I thought you were getting sick of me,” you confess.

“Never,” Abby whispers. “We’re just getting started.”

#abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby x fem!reader #abby x reader #abby x you #tlou abby #lesbian

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jesncin · 6 months

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A Failure of Asian Lois Lane: Pt 2: My Adventures with Superman, an honest discussion

If I had to pinpoint the fundamental problem with My Adventures with Superman's depiction of Asian Lois Lane it's in their attempt to subvert the classic two person love triangle: Lois loves Superman but is indifferent to Clark Kent. In MAWS, Lois insta-crushes on Clark Kent and hates Superman. In the show's attempt to make sense of this dynamic, Lois' Asian identity becomes at odds with a story meant to touch on xenophobia and immigrant themes.

Let's have an honest discussion about a show that made fandom cheer as an Asian character removed the one thing that made her most visibly Asian.

Disclaimer: While I am of East Asian descent, I am not Korean. I'll be discussing general Asian diasporic experiences but the specifics of Korean culture are outside of my knowledge (as usual I can't and don't speak for every Asian person ever, I am 1 opinion). Secondly, I'll be pulling from my personal experiences every now and then particularly pertaining to being a butch Asian person watching this show. It'll be a mix of formal analysis and personal anecdotes. Thirdly, this isn't an exhaustive analysis of MAWS Lois' character. We'll be sticking to what I consider is relevant to themes of Asian identity and immigration. Lastly once more, I do not believe the MAWS crew had malicious intent in any (of what I consider) poor writing decisions. We're here to analyze and challenge these writing decisions.

Please read Pt 1 of Asian Lois analysis that covers the comics, as it provides the groundwork for the ideas expanded on in this essay.

We need to talk about Lois' design. In the follow up to MAWS' release, people have been speculating on Lois' ethnicity. CBR writes that the show has "some fans believing that she's at least part Asian" and other articles have the show crew confirm Lois Korean heritage via her hanbok outfit in episode 4. The existence of these articles, my own anecdotal experience of streaming MAWS with Asian friends, and comments I receive from people asserting Lois' Asian identity was never explored in the show ("you'd only know she was Asian if you searched up articles about it"), tells me we have a case of an ambiguously designed Asian woman. Tangentially many people had no idea Livewire, the white haired and blue eyed woman, was meant to be South Asian.

There's a lot to be said about art styles that don't properly stylize ethnic features, but for the purposes of our analysis that means the writing has to deliver the heavy lifting where the design fails. This is the opposite case of American Alien: a comic that relied on the art to portray Asian Lois.

Let's start at episode 3. In it, Lois finally manages to conduct a private interview with the elusive Superman. When she asks where Superman comes from, how his powers work, etc- Superman comes up empty. In this version, Superman can't talk to his Kryptonian father (Jor-El)'s hologram because of a language barrier, so he knows very little about his alien heritage. He leaves Lois, assuring her he's here to help the people of Metropolis. When Clark Kent congratulates her for interviewing Superman, Lois rebuffs him. "Oh, he's [Superman's] a liar." smirking as she says it. This is the start of the Lois Hates Superman For Being a Liar arc.

I'd like you to consider the optics of an Asian American woman interviewing an alien immigrant who honestly told her he doesn't know where he comes from and is still figuring out who he is, only for her to think he's lying. Because she didn't get the answers she wanted. I can't help but think about my own experiences, where I was asked "but where do you really come from?" or "okay but what's your real name?" I think of my Asian American peers who would honestly say they're from Texas or Atlanta and get a vindictive "you're lying" as a response. People want to hear you're from China. They want their biases confirmed. I think about how I honestly can't tell you where my elders hailed from, because of cultural genocide and language barriers. This scene makes me uncomfortable, but let's press on.

Episode 4 is where Lois is most visibly Korean. In this episode the trio of Lois, Clark, and Jimmy are tasked with interviewing rich techbro Prof. Ivo of Amazo tech at an investor event. It's a prom episode. Lois wears a "hanbok inspired gala outfit" designed by Dou Hong and Jane Bak in a deliberate move to showcase Lois' Korean heritage. Bak comments "I remember feeling strongly about wanting to inject some aspect of her Korean heritage without disrupting her characteristic as a spunky and resourceful intern/reporter." while the wording poorly implies that Korean heritage is at odds with Lois' spunky personality- I do want to challenge a couple of the decisions that went into this design.

I want to acknowledge as an Asian butch that there are many ways to sport traditional garments and it's okay to mix and match to figure out what reclaiming culture (and your comfort) mean to you. However we're talking about the opportunity to showcase culture in an episode of a fictional animated show. I also encourage cultural gender expression that thinks outside of western white people's idea of gender (in both fiction and real life).

Whenever artists try to do a non-conforming spin on a cultural outfit, I always have to ask: "what standard of masculinity are we basing this on?" It's clear that MAWS is pushing for a "tomboy" Lois, and this gala outfit is an extension of that. But what's the standards of masculinity in a Korean lens? Men wear hanbok too, so why can't Lois imitate how Korean men wear hanbok, by traditionally accompanying her look with baji (baggy and loose pants)? This design notably has tight pants that hug the form, instead. I know the hanbok look has been modernized in and out of Korea in many ways, but in a show where you have the opportunity to showcase cultural non-conformity, I feel more thought should be put into the outfit outside of a potentially western lens- or the idea that cultural heritage of any sort "disrupts" a character's personality.

Now that we've discussed the design of the outfit, let's look into the narrative role it plays in episode 4. While we can celebrate cultural representation in media, I consider it important to ask "what is this media's relationship with the cultures it represents?" and the answer for Lois' hanbok in this episode is: nothing! It's an aesthetic acknowledgement of culture. "Hanbok" or "Korea" are not terms explicitly mentioned in the show. When Prof Ivo offers beautiful women as compensation for Clark to keep quiet about his company's corruption, Ivo looks over to Lois- who spills food on her clothes, and remarks that she's unclassy. She's not judged for wearing othering cultural clothes- which would have tied nicely into Clark choosing to be silent on issues of Ivo displacing a neighborhood, making Clark realize his complacency actively hurts marginalized people. Despite wearing cultural outfits being a political statement in America, nobody reacts to it. It's clear what the actual goal of this scene is: Clark looks cool for defending his "tomboy" crush.

In a scene blatantly made for fanservice, Lois offers to sew up Clark's ripped tuxedo by undressing her hanbok so she can reach her little sewing kit. Lois never wears her hanbok again afterwards. This scene haunts me. It's a scene that tells you that fanservice is more important than cultural representation. It's a scene meant to set up that Clark gives his tuxedo to Lois later on for warmth. Lois removing her hanbok is meant for not one, but two fanservice scenes.

Lois talks to Clark at the stairwell. She opens up about her estranged relationship with her father, how her mom has passed away, and how she's been an intern at the Daily Planet for a year with no sign of being hired. This makes the narrative decision for Lois to lose her hanbok far more tragic. Lois being a diasporic child with so few familial ties to her culture would mean garments like her hanbok would hold a lot of sentimental value! It's hard enough finding a cultural outfit that fits with your butchess (many of my cultural outfits are hand made to fit my form and gender expression), and yet Lois unceremoniously loses her hanbok. You would think in Lois opening up about being distant from her parents that Clark would be able to culturally relate with the distance he has with his Kryptonian parents. But the narrative opportunity to link their immigrant experiences is not taken, because the show simply doesn't recognize the parallel between the two.

Instead MAWS pushes for the Lois Thinks Superman is A Liar thing again. A far less narratively substantial and fundamentally flawed arc. This episode starts with Lois calling Superman a liar and has Lois ranting about him "dodging her questions" (remember, he was honest with her about not knowing his heritage) thereby rendering her interview unpublishable. She resorts to conspiracy tabloids giddily provided by Jimmy for information. She rather cruelly says "nobody normal believes in aliens". We are uncomfortably seeing the build up of Lois being allegorically xenophobic towards alien immigrants- a Lois on a quest to out an alien before he's ready. This is their justification for flipping the love triangle. Lois loves cuteboy Clark from work, and hates Superman for not confirming her biases that would help her publish an interview that would promote her at work. What a love story.

To wrap this episode up: Prof Ivo ends up challenging Superman to a fight so he can flex his Parasite suit to investors, only for it to backfire, destroy his reputation, and greatly damage the Amazo building (remember this it'll come back later). The episode ends with Lois discovering Superman is Clark Kent. Anecdotally, I was so frustrated with the treatment of Lois' hanbok in this episode, that I went online to search if anyone else felt similarly. All I was met with was fandom thirsting over the stairwell scene where Clark and Lois were undressing. Consider the optics of an Asian character who removed the most visible signifier of her heritage (the outfit far more culturally specific where her character design was racially ambiguous) and how people cheered because that meant they could see her in her undergarments. They can happily thirst over the body they desired now that the othering cultural garment was out of the way. It's just clothes after all. Diversity clothes. This show continues to be very uncomfortable, and a little too real.

In episode 5 Lois is passive aggressive to Clark and Superman, trying to get Clark to admit he's Superman and vice versa. She eventually confronts Clark by jumping off the roof of the Daily Planet, causing Clark to fly down and save her. She proclaims she doesn't want to be friends with him anymore for "lying" to her. This episode caused a huge ruckus online as people were divisive over Lois' actions. Some defended Lois, saying that "women should be messy" and "it's not Lois Lane if she doesn't do something crazy for journalism!". Ignoring that opinion's very flandarized view of Lois' character for a second, let's thoroughly discuss how this relates to themes of immigration and Asian identity.

By this episode, Lois had known Clark for 5 days. In that time she's entitled and angry to the point of friend-breaking-up with him because he wouldn't disclose his marginalized identity to her within less than a week. "A secret is another type of lie!" Lois says, regardless of her lying on sight to both Jimmy and Clark upon meeting them at work, and continued to lie in episode 3 (after promising not to in ep 1) about her intentions to interview Superman. Only Lois gets to lie in this relationship. The hypocrisy of her character is never recognized. Clark calls out Lois for having previously admitted to him that she wanted to dox Superman and "publish all his secrets. MY secrets!". Keep in mind that when Clark brings up Superman feeling uncomfortable about his secrets being published by Lois in episode 3, Lois' response was "yeah, but HE doesn't know that's my plan!". She explicitly admits that she would publish private information about Superman without his permission. But when she's confronted by Clark in episode 5 about that, her response is "I would never do that to you, I didn't know it was you until after the gala. How could you think that?" It's only through conflict of interest that Lois spares Superman of being doxed. He's supposed to magically know this. Extremely cool of Asian American Lois to be entitled to an alien immigrant's identity within four business days.

Episode 6 wraps up the Lois Hates Superman For Being A Liar arc, so let's quickly summarize what happens. Lois and Clark set aside their fight to find Jimmy in an abandoned scientific facility (he's being cared for by Mallah and the Brain). Jimmy admits (very smugly) to having known Clark was Superman all along because he kept breaking stuff. As the trio are chased by killer robots, they emotionally confront Clark for not trusting them with his alien secret- despite neither Lois or Jimmy creating a safe environment for Clark to come out to either of them (Jimmy outed Superman as an alien on his video channel). The moral of the story is Clark should have trusted his friends anyway, because lying is bad. Not once does the narrative hold Jimmy or Lois accountable.

We have Black Jimmy Olsen and Asian American Lois Lane being entitled to their white passing friend Clark Kent's marginalized alien identity. A joke is made at Jimmy's expense that he doesn't understand bigotry, and Lois clearly doesn't understand why an immigrant wouldn't be forthcoming about his identity to his hostile friends at work. This is how that arc ends.

I'd like to quickly compare this Lois Hates Superman For Being A Liar arc to my favorite scene in Superman Smashes the Klan. In this story, Superman debuts as a strongman superhero instead of an alien, suppressing his more othering powers to pass as human. He jumps instead of flying. Roberta, the Chinese American girl targeted by the Klan, calls Superman out for not using his full abilities to save people who could've gotten hurt. Yet, as she's calling him out, Roberta understands Superman's fear of not wanting to be othered. She sees the way her father dresses up to pass as an accomplished scientist, how he tells her mom to speak in English, how her brother makes racist jokes at their family's expense to fit in. She's not mad at Superman, she's mad at the world that would be scared of Superman if he flew.

"I wish it were okay for you to fly!" Roberta yells. This is a beautifully empathetic scene that shows a marginalized person frustrated at a systemic problem, instead of blaming the marginalized for being marginalized. It's the empathy and perspective we're missing from MAWS.

Episode 7 is a metatextual episode where MAWS addresses how their Lois isn't like the other Loises you've seen before. Lois and Jimmy are brought on to a team of alternate dimension Loises to find interdimensional troublemaker Mxy. In seeing the other more accomplished Loises in the multiverses, Lois ends up feeling inadequate about her self worth...in connection to being Superman's girlfriend, of course. Because Superman only loves Lois Lane after she wins a couple of Pulitzers, right?

I'm open to a version of Lois Lane that isn't as accomplished as she's historically known to be. I can like a Lois that's young and idealistic, like in Girl Taking Over. It's hard not to compare this episode to 2022's Everything Everywhere All At Once, another multiverse story about an Asian American woman who is the "greatest failure" version of all the parallel iterations of herself. But while that movie talks in depth about themes of generational trauma, expectations, and self potential within Asian immigrant families, MAWS uses the multiverse to say that while their Lois is less accomplished, she's still a good girlfriend to Superman! Why should I bother giving grace to a different take on Lois only to get such a superficial story out of it. This is metatextual-ly frustrating.

Why is it, the minute we get an adaptation of an Asian Lois in something as prominent as an animated show, we get "the worst Lois in the multiverse"? Lois is historically depicted as excelling in her field. She's an award winning journalist, jaded and mean from having to work her way to the top. She owns her sexuality, she's the experienced city girl. Instead of taking the opportunity to inform Lois' jadedness and excellence with her Asian American identity like in Girl Taking Over, instead we have an Asian Lois that's simply incompetent at her job. Why are we now adapting historically accomplished women into adorkable quirky screw ups? She went from being sexually confident to being insecure over sending a text to Clark. Is it more relateable to see an Asian woman that way? Is it too intimidating to see a butch Asian woman who excels at her job? Who's romantically confident? This is what MAWS would rather do than humanize her excellence or her failures.

Are you tired of an ambiguously designed Asian American woman reporter being xenophobic to Superman in MAWS? Well too bad because episode 8 introduces us to Vicki Vale, voiced by Andromeda Dunker (an Asian actress), with explicit notes in leaked concept art to design this character as "Indian American or Asian American" (as if those are mutually exclusive...) inspired off of real Asian reporter Connie Chung. Vicki wants to write a hit piece on Superman and interviews Prof Ivo's assistant, Alex, for a negative biased opinion on Superman (to Lois and Jimmy's dismay).

This episode is where it's abundantly clear the writers don't know how to talk about xenophobia. They'll make nods to xenophobic rhetoric, but they don't know what the rhetoric means. In response to Alex's derisive opinion on Superman destroying Amazo tower thereby bankrupting the company and putting "thousands out of work", Vicki responds "Superman wiped out good American jobs". This is a misplaced nod to Replacement Theory: the fear white people have over people of color, but particularly immigrants, coming to "their" country to "steal" jobs they're entitled to, ultimately becoming demographically replaced by non-white cultures and people. This rhetoric is also commonly applied to Jewish people.

The problem is, that's not what Superman did in the show. Amazo tech was going to go bankrupt because of Prof Ivo's poor business decisions. Prof Ivo made the mistake of antagonizing Superman and ruining his own image. Superman damaging the building came from his fight with Prof Ivo, not a deliberate attempt to get hired (if anything don't the building repair people have new jobs now?). No one's job is tangibly being taken by Superman. None of this is called out by Lois or Jimmy, who know the full story and were even the ones to attack Alex for helping Prof Ivo (let's be real the writers forgot this happened). In fact, Lois and Jimmy don't react to Vicki's Replacement Theory remark at all! It's like they don't even recognize she said something with racist implications!

Jimmy and Lois meet up with Superman who learns the people of Metropolis are becoming scared of him (from causing some recent property damage in an attempt to hunt a criminal down) and writing mean comments on social media. A user writes "he should go back to where he came from." This is a transparently xenophobic comment. It doesn't work in the context of the show because of a huge plot hole: Superman never publicly came out as an alien to Metropolis. No verified newspaper has explicitly made this fact known. The only source that mentions this is Jimmy's conspiracy channel, which the citizens of Metropolis are apparently treating as fact- therefore (if we're to believe this is how people knew) this means Jimmy absolutely outed Superman as an alien without Clark's consent.

So how does Asian American Lois respond to seeing her alien boyfriend go through xenophobia? She says "Take a break from being Superman and just try being normal." To be fair, the narrative does portray Lois saying the word "normal" as charged (only here at least, not in episode 4), and when she tells Superman to "take a break" it's because he had been overworking himself after suddenly unlocking the ability to hear when someone's in trouble. But was this really the response Asian American Lois thought to say? To her boyfriend going through such explicit xenophobia? At this point it's abundantly clear that racism doesn't exist in the world of MAWS. Being "normal" is to be human. And to be marginalized- or as the show likes to call it "different" is only reserved for white passing alien man Clark (along with gorilla and robot that was once a white man). Any hope of an immigrant parallel between Asian American Lois and Superman should be fully discarded at this point.

After the events of the previous episode where Superman is kidnapped by Task Force X, in episode 9 Lois regrets being allegorically xenophobic to Clark. At least I think that's what's happening. I often describe MAWS as a show that's extremely squeamish with getting political- and I believe the vagueness of Lois' Dark Night of the Soul moment reflects that. "I said awful things to Clark. I doubted him when he needed us most. I was wrong and now he's gone..." Lois says as she cries to Jimmy. Is this dialogue implying she shouldn't have told a sleep deprived Superman to take a break? What did she doubt about him? This dialogue is purposefully vague about Lois being xenophobic. They've universalized Clark's immigrant identity to such a point that they can't keep their argument consistent. Was Lois in the wrong for telling her overworked superhero boyfriend to take a break? Or was she being xenophobic for telling him to lay low for a while? Or is she regretful for hating Superman for Being A Liar? How is that possible when the narrative sided with her and Jimmy in episode 6? It's woefully non-committal. Regardless, the intent of this scene is to pay off in the climax of the episode.

In the end Superman has a showdown with Prof Ivo Parasite, who has grown into a large godzilla-esque kaiju creature. In typical MAWS fashion, the show is more interested in a surface level nod to Asian media instead of engaging with the specific themes of nature and post-war trauma kaijus and godzilla serve in Japanese culture. I digress. Using Jimmy's massive social media platform, Lois delivers a hope speech that instantly heals Metropolis of its xenophobia towards Superman.

Lois says to the people of Metropolis.: "People have told you to fear Superman because he's different from us. But we humans are capable of causing hurt and pain too. [...] Because we want to punish those who don't look or act like us." I mean this in the most polite way possible, but who on Earth thought this line was a good idea for Asian American Lois Lane to deliver when talking about white passing man Superman?? Why did the writers feel the need to specify Superman not looking like us. I simply don't understand how nobody considered the terrible optics of this.

After Superman defeats Parasite, episode 10 is about Clark, Lois, and Jimmy celebrating Thanksgiving at the Kents' house. At the Daily Planet, the trio of interns are promoted to finally being reporters. It only took Clark and Jimmy a few weeks while it took Lois a whole year! Now feels like a good time to remind you that Lois as a character was historically frustrated at sexism in the industry and despised how men were treated better than her (including Clark Kent). Well in MAWS episode 4, Lois has no idea why she isn't getting picked up to be a reporter. According to the narrative, and Perry White's dialogue ("you're terrible interns, so the only thing to do was to make you reporters")- she simply didn't break enough rules yet! Thank goodness she had the help of two men to show her how it's done! This is a pretty clear case of character regression. Keep in mind that in American Alien, at the very least that Asian Lois still underwent sexism, and I gave it the grace that the story could eventually expand to talking about both sexism and racism if it were to continue. But in MAWS? I don't think even sexism exists, let alone racism. Somehow Thanksgiving does, though.

Half the final episode is spent on Thanksgiving shenanigans where everyone's trying to be polite but they dislike Lois' stoic dad (Sam Lane)- who Clark recognizes as the Asian American xenophobic man who tortured him in Task Force X's government bunkers. A parallel is pulled between Sam and Jor-El, two fathers with different ideals when it comes to protecting their kids. There's a huge missed opportunity to have Lois and Sam speak in Korean with each other, to create a parallel in the language barrier between Clark and Jor-El. Maybe Lois isn't as fluent in Korean as Sam is depending on how culturally connected she is. Oh, but the existence of non-English human languages would imply some sort of minority, who would be marginalized, and we can't have anyone outside of aliens and a gorilla be marginalized in MAWS. Non-English languages in America are political, after all. Oh, but they also got a Filipino actor to voice Sam. Generously Lois could be Filipino-Korean but if we're being truly honest it's clear the MAWS crew think Asians are interchangeable.

Let's talk about Sam. In terms of optics, it's already not great that the main villains who represent the face of America's secret government xenophobia are Amanda Waller and Sam Lane- a Black woman and an Asian man. What's doubly notable is that of the antagonistic villains, Sam and Vicki are the most xenophobic. When Sam tortures Superman, he shouts "When is the invasion? How many of your kind will come through this time?" without a hint of irony. Reminder that historically, Asian immigrants were (and still are) considered invaders in America. They are the perpetual foreigner. MAWS loves making nods to Superman being an immigrant allegory, and yet they can't fathom the human beings that allegory is inspired by.

It's not impossible to portray people of color or even Asian American characters specifically being xenophobic. In Superman Smashes the Klan, Dr. Lee is initially antagonistic towards Superman but we understand why. We see him trying desperately to assimilate into whiteness, to the point he rejects assistance from his Black neighbors who help put out a fire in their backyard (that the Klan started as a threat). We understand why he's a character who would turn on fellow people of color, or fellow immigrants, in order to fit in. For MAWS, if we had a flashback scene where Sam was serving in the military and fought against Asian soldiers, showcasing his loyalty to America over his own people- that would narratively explain why an Asian American character would be xenophobic. Writing bigotry from within marginalized communities requires specificity. Otherwise, you've just got a diverse villain. In the end, Lois defends her immigrant alien boyfriend from her xenophobic Asian American dad.

Whenever I bring up how MAWS fails its characters of color but especially Asian Lois, I'm met with people telling me that "hopefully they'll make Lois more Asian in S2" or "they'll just retcon the bad writing in S1" and I hope this thorough analysis on the treatment of Lois' Asian American identity can help enlighten why I personally think that's impossible. The entire concept is flawed from the very beginning. The story MAWS wants to tell is at odds with Lois' Asian identity. In trying to justify an Asian Lois that loves Clark but hates Superman, they never considered what it means to hate Superman. To hate the alien immigrant. The alien other. What it means for an Asian American character to do all that. MAWS is a show that wants to have its cake and eat it too, they want a diverse world without racism or sexism but still want to reap the clout of lightly portraying Superman as "different".

They'll make the most surface level nods to Lois' Korean heritage- but remove all of the cultural context from them. They can't be bothered to acknowledge the inherit political identity being a person of color means in America, they're too busy doing that with Clark. I'm told "MAWS didn't have the time to go over Lois' Asian identity, it's a 10-episode series that focuses on Clark's alienation", and to that I say the potential of an immigrant love story and time frame was there, they simply chose to go another direction.

When I bring up things like Superman Smashes the Klan, Girl Taking Over, and Everything Everywhere All At Once, it's not to say MAWS should have used those stories as reference when crafting their allegory. All of those specific media were released while MAWS was deep in production already. Girl Taking Over was released the same year MAWS premiered. What I am saying is that we, as the audience, should have higher standards. Because better media portraying Asian American characters already exist. Better media portraying Asian characters relating to Superman mythos already exists. What we're doing when we celebrate the breadcrumbs of representation that is MAWS, is allowing mediocrity to exist uncritically.

Shows like Wednesday are known in the discourse for their portrayal of Black characters as being functionally white, yet that kind of scrutiny doesn't seem known for MAWS. The diverse reimagining of Lois and Jimmy is so poorly handled in MAWS that it would honestly make more sense if Jimmy and Lois were white here. The joke made at Jimmy's expense that he doesn't understand bigotry would be actually funny if it was calling out his white privilege. If, for whatever reason, the writers are compelled to write a xenophobic Lois that unlearns her bigotry and falls for Superman, I'd rather she be white for that kind of story. I wouldn't personally root for that kind of couple, but at least it'd make sense. It's a common joke among DCAU fans of color that we like to headcanon Lex Luthor as Black, or Lois Lane and Terry Mcginnis as Asian. It's a cruel irony that the one time we finally have a canonized Asian Lois in an animated show, she honestly feels and acts whiter than actual white Lois ever was.

I mentioned in Pt 1 of my essay that Asian Lois and Superman has the potential to be a definitive love story. One that considers both their backgrounds as immigrants, othered in different ways by American society. The story of a jaded but accomplished Asian city girl who finds hope to be herself again in an alien immigrant superhero. One where she gets the courage to wear traditional clothes again, to practice languages she once suppressed. The story of Superman, an alien immigrant, finding hope in someone with a painfully similar experience.

As of writing, we have yet to see this dynamic in any canon DC media. A second season of MAWS will not give us that story.

#ramblings #media criticism #jesncin talks maws #lois lane #warning LONG LONG POST #this is a 30 minute read for reference. read it in chunks if u like but this is a big lad fellas #as always please be kind!#jesncin dc meta

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moonlit-dreamers · 5 months

Text

hot take but i dont think sun is suicidal

i dont think hes the one with the worst mental health in this show either

besides eclipse (bc thats obvious), id say solar has the worst mental health

hes already killed 2 ppl (didnt want to kill either of them and one was on accident), is insecure about his own identity (asked computer if hes like the other eclipses, and i also bet montys... "teasing" didnt help), has no hobbies of his own, refuses to actually acknowledge his own issues, doesnt communicate to ppl and tries to "not be a bother" to others, never does anything for himself and only ever does when someone tells him to, and probably more.

but i'll analyze solar and his shit mental health later; i wanna ramble about sun

i dont think sun has ever been actively suicidal, mainly passive. in case ur wondering wut the difference is:

being passively suicidal is having thoughts and "wishes" but never actually planning to do anything. a lot of ppl will think "i wish i was dead" when in reality wut they need is a break and they have no real desire to die (this is a common thought process to have when ur burnt out or generally in a mental rut)

being actively suicidal is actually planning to do something and seeking out ways to harm urself with the intent of being severely injured or dying. this is an immediate emergency

sun never went out in search of ways to die. he never planned out ways he could kill himself. the time we heard him say "i wish i was dead" was right after he hallucinated bloodmoon and old moon taunting him. he was tired and he needed a fucking break, so he expressed that through saying "i wish i was dead". now u might be thinking "but birdcage, he did go out and do risky things knowing he might die" yes, that is true. but that does not mean that dying was his intention. he went out and did dangerous things bc he wanted to help, not die.

but if we return to the current moment; he is absolutely not suicidal. his mental health is deteriorating, yes. but from wut i can tell he hasnt shown any signs of suicidal ideation. for a while sun said he had pretty stable mental health. it was only until eclipse came back did his health really start to deteriorate again. then if u add on to how hes constantly being pushed to the side and ignored by his own family (im more than mildly frustrated by that) that is absolutely a disaster brewing under the surface. but does that mean hes currently, at the very least passively, suicidal? no. probably not. at least, from wut we can tell there isnt much to back up the idea that he is.

wut sun needs is to be acknowledged and let in on the happenings of the family instead of being ignored. he also needs to learn how to communicate better bc the severe lack of it is wuts going to cause the downfall of everyone in the show

#birdcage rambles #suicide #suicidal thoughts #i really felt like explaining the difference between passive and active suicidal thoughts is VERY important for this conversation #bc. from wut i could tell. sun was never actively suicidal #unless im missing something #it was always passive #sun and moon show #sams #tsams #the sun and moon show #sams sun #tsams sun #sun sams #sun tsams #sams solar #tsams solar #i think he still counts to be added in here since i talked about him briefly

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astrxq · 1 year

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heyy so i had this spiderman!ethan idea for daysss now, i absolutely love your writing, i don't know if i already sent this to you or not. if i did im sorry😭😭

reader and ethan having huge crushes on eachother

ethan is so oblivious and clueless, he believes a girl like her would never like him

reader tries really hard to get his attention and send him hints that she wants him but in vain. she ends up thinking he doesn't feel the same.

until spiderman comes to rescue her one day, they talk, and from this day spiderman takes the habit to give her a visit or two once in a week.

they begin to form a friendship of some sort, ethan behind his mask is so happy he can finally talk to her without getting nervous, he's confident with his suit on and flirts with her.

she is flattered but her mind keeps going back to ethan.

one day ethan as spiderman decides to make a move on her, she hesitates and ends up stopping him, confessing that her heart is already taken by the landry boy.

ethan still hidden behind his mask is shocked, confused but oh so happy to hear her say those words.

for a moment they stop talking, reader is worried thinking she hurt his feelings, but ethan is debating inside on whether he should take his mask off or not.

"fuck it", he takes it off revealing himself, she is completely astonished, but without a word he cups her face and gently kisses her.

a study date?

spiderman!ethan x fem!reader

words: 4.3k

notes: spiderman ethan is my favorite thing ever

Liking Ethan Landry was a nightmare. Every single interaction with the boy left you unsure of whether he liked you or not. His shy persona left you searching for answers, desperately seeking signs that might show the truth of his intentions.

The way he stumbled over his words, the fleeting glances he stole when he thought you weren't looking, and the gentle blush that painted his cheeks made you question if he liked you back, or if he was just very awkward. Probably the second one, right?

You found yourself analyzing every interaction, parsing every word and gesture for hidden meanings. You pondered the countless possibilities, teetering on the precipice of hoping that your feelings were reciprocated. But it all came back to him not feeling the same way.

Mindy's rant about the horror movie she had watched the night before shook you away from your thoughts, your eyes fleeting up to your friend as she moved her hands around in excitement while you all listened to her. From the corner of your eye, you could see Ethan's leg bouncing up and down right next to Chad.

"I mean, the jump scares were insane! I practically jumped out of my skin." You forced a smile, trying to feign interest in Mindy's movie review while your mind kept drifting back to Ethan. It seemed like an endless loop, your thoughts consumed by him. You wanted so desperately to know what was going on in his head, but his quiet nature only added to your confusion.

Tara bumped her elbow into yours, earning your attention. "You okay?" She raised her brows as she whispered to you, quietly enough for the others to still be focusing on Mindy's monologue.

You hummed, nodding your head at her with a forced smile. It's not like you hadn't tried to hint that you liked Ethan, but his responses were always confusing, leaving you in a constant state of uncertainty.

As the group chatted and laughed, you couldn't help but steal glances at Ethan. His eyes were fixed on Mindy, seemingly engrossed in her storytelling. The questions swirled in your mind. You must have looked at Ethan for too long because Tara let out a small, quiet chuckle.

She leaned in closer, her voice still barely audible. "Sometimes guys are just clueless." You shrugged before uncomfortably shifting on the couch. "Maybe he just doesn't like me, I don't know," you started.

"It just feels like... sometimes, he does?" Tara nodded, understanding before setting her hand on yours, squeezing it just a bit. "I get it," she replied softly. "But trust me, guys can be really clueless sometimes. They might not even realize that their actions are sending mixed signals. And you have been giving hints."

You sighed, leaning back against the couch. "Yeah, maybe I'm just overanalyzing it. But this is driving me crazy." Mindy finished her rambling once Anika raised her hand to ask a question, changing the subject. Tara glanced at Mindy and Anika, then turned her attention back to you with a soft smile.

"Maybe be more direct with him? Ask him out?"

"I have! He just always invites Chad along." Tara raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "Well, have you considered that maybe Ethan is just too nervous to go on a date with you alone?"

You groaned, frustration evident in your voice. "I don't know, Tara. It's like he's intentionally avoiding being alone with me. Every time I suggest something, he finds a way to include Chad or someone else in our plans. He's definitely not interested."

Tara tilted her head, contemplating your words. "Or maybe he's afraid of making things awkward between you two. Some guys just have a hard time expressing their feelings, especially when they really like someone."

You sighed, "Please don't feed into my delusions, Tara." She chuckled and squeezed your hand reassuringly. "I'm not trying to feed into your delusions, I promise. But maybe Ethan is just as confused as you are."

You rolled your eyes playfully. "I doubt that. I've been very obvious about it." Tara smirked and raised an eyebrow. "Obvious, huh? Maybe he's just blind, then."

You glared at her playfully. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"Alright, maybe you're the blind one." She motioned towards where he sat with her head with a smirk, making your eyes trail to where she was pointing, catching the boy staring. Ethan gulped a bit before looking away, down to his lap. "See?"

"Maybe he heard us talk about him," you panicked, looking at Tara for help, "or... he was just staring at you," she said, raising her eyebrows in amusement at your nervousness. "I don't know, Tara, I'm getting tired of wondering if he likes me or not all the time."

"Come on, don't give up. I'm sure he likes you." Tara's words offered a glimmer of hope amidst your frustration. You let out a sigh, contemplating her reassurance. "You really think so?"

She nodded, her eyes filled with sincerity. "Absolutely. I've seen the way he looks at you when he thinks no one's watching. There's something there, trust me."

You couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth in your chest at Tara's words. Maybe there was a chance, after all. "But what do I do? I've tried dropping hints, and it hasn't really worked."

Tara leaned in closer, her voice laced with mischief. "Well, if subtle hints aren't getting through to him, then maybe it's time to be more direct. Take matters into your own hands."

Your eyebrows furrowed in uncertainty. "You mean… like, confessing my feelings to him?" She snorted, "Yeah, sure. You'd kill yourself before doing that. Just ask him out, make sure you make it very, veeery obvious that you want it to be just the two of you. No Chad."

You chuckled nervously at Tara's teasing remark. "Okay, fine. I'll ask him out and make it crystal clear that it's just the two of us. No Chad in sight. I can do that, right?"

Tara grinned mischievously. "Absolutely! You got this." As she spoke, Mindy and Anika had finished their conversation, and the group's attention had shifted to different conversations, Chad and Ethan deep into a talk about some video game they'd bought for their dorm. The girls' attention shifted back to you and Tara. Mindy, noticing the seriousness on your face, chimed in, "What's going on?"

"Y/N's gonna ask Ethan out," Tara whispered back, and Anika looked just as confused as Mindy. "Again?" they both said. "See?" you turned to Tara, an 'I told you so' look on your face.

Tara shrugged, a smirk still playing on her lips. "This time, she's gonna make it crystal clear. No room for misinterpretation."

Anika leaned closer, her eyes widening with excitement. "Oh my god, this is getting interesting! How are you gonna ask him?"

You took a deep breath, feeling a mix

of nervousness and determination. "I have no idea. Maybe a study date?" Tara made a gagging sound, "Nerds."

"There's no way he will think that's a date. He's very stupid with girls, we've gone over this," Mindy added. "Make it obvious." She shifted so her hand was atop her girlfriend's, lacing their fingers together. "A study date is a good idea, I think," Anika added.

Mindy raised an eyebrow, a sly grin forming on her face. "And how exactly are you going to make it obvious so it doesn't look like a regular study session?"

You glanced at Tara, who couldn't hold back her laughter. "Oh, it's gonna be fun. Just... flirt a little, touch his arm, eye contact..."

Anika clapped her hands, unable to contain her excitement. "Yes! I can already imagine it. The two of you, it's like a romcom!" You blushed at the thought of turning your study date into a romantic movie-worthy moment.

"I don't know if I can pull that off," you admitted, feeling a surge of nerves build up inside of you. Anika nudged your shoulder with her hand, smiling at you. "Don't say that! You got this. And if he's as clueless as you think, maybe you'll have to go in for the kiss."

You covered your face with your hands, feeling it heating up. "Oh god. No, no, no."

"You don't wanna kiss him?" she asked, "Of course I do! Just- don't say that."

"Say what? That you wanna kiss the guy you have a crush on?" Mindy chimed in, holding back a laugh at your very obvious embarrassment. "Please stop it, I'll explode, I can feel it."

"That'd be fun to see," Chad said, having moved from his spot on the couch to standing behind you, his hands leaning on the back of the couch, Ethan next to him. "Why are you exploding?"

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment as you tried to collect yourself. "Uh, no reason, Chad. Just… figurative exploding, you know?" You stammered, hoping to divert the conversation away from your crush on Ethan. But just as you seemed to focus on Chad, Ethan spoke. "What's wrong?"

You glanced at Tara, silently pleading for help. She chimed in, saving you from further embarrassment. "Oh, it's nothing, just some inside joke. Don't worry about it, Ethan."

Chad, ever the teasing friend, leaned in closer, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Come on, are we missing any gossip? You know I love gossip, don't do this to me." He pretended to beg as he nudged Ethan playfully.

Ethan's cheeks turned a shade of pink as he shrugged, his eyes briefly meeting yours before he looked away. "I… I don't know. They were talking about… exploding?"

"Y/N's just been struggling with a business assignment, that's it," Anika said, winking your way as she tried to ease in the study date idea. "Oh, I can help you with that if you want," Ethan said, his hand slightly fidgeting with one of the couch pillows nervously as Chad grinned from next to him.

You couldn't help but feel a surge of hope as Ethan offered to help you with your assignment. Maybe this was your chance to spend some quality time together and make your intentions clear. You took a deep breath, gathering your courage.

"That would be amazing, Ethan," you replied, a hint of excitement in your voice. "I could really use some help." You smiled, and Ethan lingered for a second before asking, "Uh, you could come by our dorm tomorrow? Chad needs my help with biology anyway."

You could scream, you could actually feel that fake explosion building up inside of you. Trying to hide your disappointment, you nodded eagerly. "Yeah, that sounds great! I could definitely use your help, and it'll be nice to hang out with you guys."

You swore you heard Mindy groan, and you felt her eyeroll from the back of your head. Ethan blushed, his eyes avoiding yours for a moment before he managed to speak up again. "Yeah, it'll be fun. We can order some pizza too," he suggested, a nervous smile playing on his lips.

You chuckled nervously, glancing at Tara for a supportive look. She gave you an encouraging nod, silently telling you to make your move during the study session. "Pizza sounds nice." You tried your best to make your voice sound cheerful, seeing the way Chad looked at Ethan before shaking his head a bit.

"I can just... ask someone from my class for help," Chad trailed off, "It will be more productive if we just do it all at once, right?" Ethan said, widening his eyes, as if trying to communicate with Chad, trying to tell him that he needed him there so he wouldn't freak out. But you felt your chest heave at the thought of Ethan wanting Chad to be there so badly.

Anika quickly changed the subject, talking about how her parents were going to be in town for the week. And you felt Chad give your shoulder a small reassuring tap before following behind Ethan to sit down on their old spot.

Chad kept tapping on the table with his pencil as you bounced your leg up and down, waiting for Ethan to appear. He'd agreed to meet up at seven; he had even texted you earlier to confirm the time. But now, it was almost thirty minutes past, and there was still no sign of Ethan.

You tried to hide your disappointment, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. Chad noticed your unease and leaned in, whispering, "He's probably just caught up with something. Don't worry; he'll be here soon."

"Yeah, probably," you hummed, deciding to start the assignment on your own. A few minutes went by, and Ethan was still nowhere in sight. Chad, sensing your growing impatience, glanced at his phone and let out a small sigh.

"I'll shoot him a text, see what's taking him so long," he offered, his fingers quickly typing a message to Ethan. You appreciated his gesture and continued to fiddle with your pen, trying to focus on the assignment, but your mind kept wandering back to Ethan's absence.

After what felt like an eternity, Chad finally looked up from his phone with a perplexed expression. "He's not answering," he revealed, his brows furrowing. "That's weird. Ethan always has his phone glued to his hand."

"Maybe he just forgot," you murmured. "Are you any good at biology?" he asked, biting the inside of his cheek as he looked over his homework once again. "Because I'm not getting this." You shook your head but still reached for the paper in his hands, reading it over before pointing at one of the questions.

You smiled, grateful for the distraction and the opportunity to help Chad with the assignment. "Actually, I think I can help you with this one. It's a bit tricky, but let me break it down for you." You began explaining the concept, your focus shifting from Ethan's absence to the task at hand. Chad listened intently, nodding along as you explained.

An hour ticked by, and Ethan was still nowhere in sight. Your initial anticipation had turned into frustration and a tinge of hurt. You couldn't help but feel disappointed by his absence, wondering what could have possibly kept him from showing up.

"He does this sometimes," Chad explained, "he'll disappear for a few hours and come back late." You hummed once again, checking the time. "I think I'll get going." You stood up, gathering your things as Chad grabbed your papers. "Thanks for helping me, Y/N."

You sent a small smile his way before he offered to walk you to the door. "You like him a lot, huh?" he asked, teasing. You felt your cheeks burn, and you chuckled before pushing him gently. "Shut up." You turned to leave, a huge smile playing on your lips as you heard Chad laugh from behind you.

On the walk back to yours and Tara's dorm, you heard people yelling from afar. Curiosity piqued, you picked up your pace to check what was going on. From a distance, you could see a group of teenagers, all wearing masks that covered their faces, and a woman clutching her grocery bags with some items on the floor.

In front of her stood a guy dressed in spandex. You carefully took some steps closer, quickly recognizing the masked hero from the news you'd seen many times. They called him "Spider-Man," and you'd heard Chad geek out about him too many times.

You couldn't resist getting closer, wanting to catch a better glimpse of Spider-Man. You moved closer when the group of teens scattered around, leaving the hero with the woman. Once you were close enough, you picked up some of the food containers that had been dropped to the floor. "Thanks, honey," the lady said.

Spider-Man looked up, his big white bug eyes fixating on yours. He cleared his throat and messily handed the woman her groceries before fully standing up. "Thank you," he said, his voice clearly deeper as he tried to make it unrecognizable to you.

You couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement as you stood face to face with Spider-Man, the legendary hero you had heard so much about. His presence was both thrilling and intimidating, and you couldn't believe that you were actually interacting with him.

"You're welcome," you managed to say, a mix of awe and disbelief in your voice. "It's amazing to see you in action, Spider-Man."

Spider-Man chuckled behind his mask, a sound that was both lighthearted and reassuring. "Well, it's all in a day's work. Just doing my friendly neighborhood Spider-Man duty," he replied, Ethan's voice still poorly disguised by the mask and his attempt to deepen it.

Soon enough, all the containers were back in the woman's bags, and some of the streetlights had turned off due to the lateness of the hour. You started to make your way back home, holding onto your bag that hung on your shoulder, still thinking about Ethan.

You almost jumped when the hero dropped to the floor in front of you, his bug eyes widening a bit. "Would you like me to walk you back?" you blinked, momentarily taken aback by the offer.

"Oh, um, that's really nice of you, but it's not necessary," you replied, a hint of uncertainty in your voice. Spider-Man tilted his head, his masked face unreadable. "Are you sure? It's late, and you never know what might be lurking around."

You glanced around the dimly lit street, feeling a chill run down your spine. The idea of walking home alone suddenly seemed less appealing. "Well, if you insist," you said, mustering a smile. "I would appreciate the company."

As you walked side by side, you couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness. You stole glances at Spider-Man, trying to catch a glimpse of the person behind the mask, but his identity remained a mystery.

"So," Spider-Man began, breaking the silence, "how did you end up at that scene earlier? It's not often I see civilians lending a hand."

You chuckled, feeling a flush of embarrassment. "I just left my friend's dorm a few minutes ago; I was just walking by." He hummed and seemed to think for a second, a small "shit" leaving his lips once he realized he'd practically stood you up.

"This late?" he tried to seem nonchalant. "Well, it's a funny story," you said, trying to brush off the situation. "I was actually supposed to meet someone there, but he never showed up."

"I'm sorry that happened. He must be an idiot."

"He isn't. He's very sweet," you said, chuckling a bit at the thought of Ethan, "it's just... I thought he liked me, I don't know." Spider-Man nodded, his mask concealing any hint of surprise. "I think he's an idiot if he doesn't." He adjusted his web shooters, feeling guilty for hurting your feelings.

You glanced at Spider-Man, who had unknowingly taken the place of Ethan in your evening plans. His words brought a small smile to your face, appreciating the support from a stranger. "That's really kind of you to say."

Spider-Man scratched the back of his head through his mask, a gesture that seemed strangely familiar. "Well, sometimes guys can be clueless."

You nodded, feeling a mixture of validation and disappointment. "Yeah, you're right. It's just… confusing. Sometimes it feels like he does like me, and then..." you trailed off, "God, I don't even know why I'm telling you this, sorry."

Ethan chuckled softly, the sound muffled by his mask. "No need to apologize. Sometimes it's easier to talk to a stranger about these things. I guess that's the advantage of the mask," he said, trying to lighten the mood.

You couldn't help but smile, "Yeah, I guess. It's just frustrating, you know? Mixed signals and all that." He nodded again, slightly frowning under his mask.

As the two of you walked, the tension in your shoulders seemed to ease a bit. You felt comfortable with Spider-Man, as weird as it sounded, even if his true identity remained a mystery.

You approached your dorm building, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment that your time with Spider-Man was coming to an end. He reminded you of Ethan; their mannerisms were very similar. But the thought of them being the same person didn't come to mind as you talked.

"Well, this is me," you said, gesturing toward the building. "Thank you so much for walking me back. It was really nice talking to you, Spider-Man."

Spider-Man nodded, "The pleasure was all mine, Y/N. Stay safe." He made a salute sign with his fingers, letting out an awkward laugh as he embarrassedly walked away.

Ethan sighed once again, adjusting his mask as he stood in front of your dorm's door. He was nervous that you'd hate him for showing up at your door dressed as Spider-Man and about to reveal his biggest secret to you. He had been standing there for about five minutes, overthinking it.

When he knocked, though, Tara opened the door with a confused look on her face. "What the..."

"Is Y/N here?" he asked, trying his best to deepen his voice. Tara's eyes widened as she took in the sight of the masked hero standing at the door. She glanced back at you and called out your name. "Y/N, Spider-Man is here to see you."

You looked up from your laptop, confusion evident on your face. Putting it away, you walked towards the door, your gaze shifting from Tara to Spider-Man. As you approached, you noticed nervousness in the masked hero's posture. "What are you doing here?" you said, your voice laced with surprise.

Tara moved out of the way, staring attentively at the stranger at the door. Ethan grew more nervous under her gaze. He turned to face her and then back to you. "Uh... I was hoping we could talk? Alone?"

You furrowed your eyebrows, and Tara walked out of the dorm, her eyes still wide. "Chad is gonna freak out," she mouthed to you before closing the door, leaving you and Ethan alone in the dorm room.

"What's going on?" you asked, confusion evident on your face. "That guy... you like him, right?"

His question made you stop and think, not really understanding. "Uh, yes. Sorry, why are you here exactly?" Ethan took a deep breath, the nerves apparent in his voice as he began to speak. "I... I wanted to apologize for not showing up last week. It was completely my fault, and I understand if you're upset with me. I can't make any excuses for my behavior."

"What?"

Only then did Ethan realize he messed up the order of the plan he'd practiced hidden in his dorm's bathroom. He was supposed to take the mask off first. "Oh, uhm," he reached for the hem of his mask, struggling.

With a slightly awkward tug, Ethan managed to remove the mask, revealing his familiar face. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he looked at you, his eyes filled with both apprehension and hope. You stood there, stunned, as you processed the revelation. The pieces started falling into place, connecting the dots between Ethan's absence, Chad's mention of him disappearing, and the familiar mannerisms you noticed while walking with Spider-Man.

"You're Spider-Man," you stated, trying to process it. "I'm so sorry I stood you up. I lost track of time. And—" you cut him off, waving your hand up to shut him up. "I'm sorry, you're Spider-Man?"

"Yes? Yes," he said, stumbling over his words at your slight rejection of his apology. "But... I wanted to hang out with you, I just... forgot. I'm sorry." You were baffled at how quickly he'd moved on from the fact that he was the masked hero of New York.

He sighed, "I really like you." He nodded to himself, slightly smiling at the fact that he'd finally gotten the courage to confess. You stayed silent, overwhelmed by the amount of confessions Ethan had just dropped on you.

"I... I need to sit down."

He raised his eyebrows, pulling out one of the chairs at the lunch table for you to sit on, then another one for him. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "The guy I've been crushing on turns out to be a superhero. It's like something out of a movie."

Ethan's smile grew wider, relief washing over his features. "I understand if you're upset." You took a deep breath, letting the initial disappointment fade away. "I was."

"I won't tell anybody," you promised, reaching for his hand on his knee, your legs bumping into each other's.

His hand nervously reached out from under yours, gently cupping your cheek. His touch was warm and tender, causing a shiver to run down your spine. You could feel the electricity in the air, the undeniable connection between the two of you.

The kiss was hesitant at first, as if both of you were exploring unfamiliar territory. But as the seconds passed, it deepened, growing more passionate and fervent. Ethan's hand on your cheek caressed your skin, his touch sending sparks through your entire body. Your hands instinctively found their way to his chest, holding onto him as if afraid to let go.

Tara's knocking on the door made you pull back, her voice loud through the door. "Can I come in? I think they're throwing a party across the hall, and I don't wanna be here right now." You jumped to stand up.

Ethan widened his eyes, pulling his curly head inside of the mask again before standing up to hug you and quickly pulling at your window, waving at you right as you nervously opened the door for Tara.

#ethan landry oneshot #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry fluff #spiderman!ethan landry #jack champion x reader #jack champion #scream 6 #scream movie #ethan landry x you #spiderman x reader

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soquimic · 2 years

Text

void state: tips, affirmations, my experience and motivation.

⚠️ i don’t want to sound “rude”, but i will be very straightforward with all that i’m adding to this post, i want to be a help, not only for you, but for me too. i have encountered my fails and mistakes while practicing the void, i want to address them all below to help people analyze and wake them up.

number one: the victim mentality.

you have probably wondered in any point of your journey: why aren’t my desires here? i am doing everything that i can and they still aren’t here.

you probably don’t notice the problem while you’re thinking like this, your mind got tricked into thinking IT IS like that, you have assumed this for so long that your mind only knows that fact and it won’t change unless you decide to flip the thoughts.

you are wondering.

you are NOT accepting.

the moment you notice that you’re looking for a result to say it’s been working, you will see that you’re doing everything wrong. you are NOT SEARCHING. your desire IS HERE. you just need to switch that mentality and accept it is yours. as soon as your thoughts align with your new mentality and beliefs, your life will go better and you will manifest faster.

number two: the limiting beliefs.

no. you didn’t have any limiting beliefs in the first place until someone started to point them out. you think that because something worked in the way it did to another person, it would be the same for you.

N O.

you can be literally sitting, doing nothing, just thinking OF SOMETHING, and it can easily manifest if you assume it will. you do not need to do what x person did, you do not need to have a strict mental diet, you do not have to saturate your mind to the point you’re drained. you do not need to impress anyone, you do not even have to impress yourself.

why not? because a god knows their power and if a god knows the power they hold, they know that everything is easy and they can do anything cause they are a creator. they want a chair to appear in front of their eyes? sure, they can make it appear. they want to be a leader in everything they do? sure, they are a leader. they want to materialize whatever thing they are thinking in that exact moment? a piece of cake.

the moment you embody the god mindset and you start acting as if, you will mock yourself for wasting all that time doing nothing but complaining and running here and there asking bloggers for advice when you don’t even need that, all you need is: believing in yourself and know your true power.

number three: procrastinating, doubts and wavering.

you don’t have to worry about the why, where and how. it’s obvious that is because you deserve that, if you are wanting something is because you know by fact that you deserve it. the time, the date, it doesn’t matter. it is yours. you are that person you are wishing to become. you have that dream body. you have that dream house. you have all that money.

instead of scrolling down through success stories and feel happy about other success, you should be applying all that you have learned from them and their posts. you are the only one who is capable to change their fate and reality, if you decided to sit down and do nothing, how are you gonna make progress? how are you gonna see changes? it’s contradictory when we say that you can manifest while doing nothing, but it’s not the same nothing KNOWING and ASSUMING it’s yours than nothing NOT APPLYING and POSTPONING your desired life.

i want you to ask yourself: what am i doing? what is stopping me? why haven’t i done progress? and answer those questions with total sincerity. if you think you can’t achieve it, you are stopping yourself and your mind and it won’t manifest. if you flip the thought: i can achieve everything as soon as i set the intention for it, i deserve every one of my desires.

stay loyal to your assumptions, don’t doubt them, what you assume is what you’re gonna get.

number three: the void state.

we really love the idea of getting anything in an instant, it makes us feel untouchable. wrong. it doesn’t make us feel untouchable, WE ARE untouchable.

if you are complaining and saying things like: i don’t know why i am not entering the void, i do everything, i meditate, i affirm but i can’t even feel symptoms.

N O.

stop right there. you are assuming it, every void experience is different even though people describe it as the same, of course IT IS the same feeling but every experience is seen in another point of view. there are some times where you won’t even notice that you’re in.

you need to assume you always get in easily, you need to believe that it is easy. BECAUSE IT IS. people overcomplicating something so simple as breathing and relaxing.

don’t let negative thoughts take over your assumptions, remember, all you have to do is stay still, relax yourself and affirm for it. you need to persist, it doesn’t matter if you aren’t feeling anything at all, you are getting in.

i also had my doubts with it, i would try every day but i noticed how obsessed i was with it that i had to take a break from it and returned again with new assumptions and i have got in twice, the problem is that i fall asleep.

a tip from me if you’re struggling with this deep sleep at night just right after you start meditating: drink coffee throughout the day, start earlier (1 hour before the hour that you usually nap) or have a little nap in the afternoon. it will sure help you a ton. my concept is alright but what’s stopping me from focusing is that damn sleepy feeling.

if some day you’re feeling guilty, remember: that is what you want, why do you want it? cause you deserve it. nobody or nothing can change that fact. it’s yours.

if you still struggle with the void after all, i have some personal affirmations that now won’t be that personal cause i’ll be sharing them with you:

i am the void.

i enter the void whenever i want.

the void is so easy for me to enter.

as soon as i think of the void, i get in.

no matter what, i’m always in the void.

i enter the void easy and effortlessly.

i deserve everything that i desire.

i can’t be behind it if i am the void.

every night i enter the void.

i always wake up in the void.

i love how easy it is for me to enter the void.

i don’t need to worship the state because i am the void and the creator.

i know the void is within me and i can dominate it.

i am a master at the void state.

they could never dominate the void like i do.

i get into the void instantly.

remember that nothing is impossible.

the only thing that is impossible is what you make your mind believe is impossible. you’re a creator, you’re deserving of everything and you have your desires.

#law of assumption #affirm and persist #affirmations #manifestation #success story #void state #void success stories

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naomihatake · 8 months

Text

In search of freedom (Ch. 4)

4. One step forward

Chapter 3 ; Chapter 4 ; Chapter 5

⠀⠀⠀⠀She's been searching for freedom her entire life and everytime she thought it was laying right in front of her eyes, she was mistaken. She was running around the East Blue, seeking herself and her dreams, meeting people she never forgot. No matter how much she traveled, she could only catch a glimpse of peace before realizing everything would crumble at her feet.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Maybe it was destiny that brought her on that ship with three strangers — foolishly, that's what she tried to believe when the moon shined beautifully and hope settled in her chest, squeezed by the same ribcage where feelings were blooming.

Pairing: female!reader x OPLA Zoro Roronoa

Warnings for this chapter: fluff, some angst, alcohol

Word count: 3.8k

Theme song: fic spotify playlist (click on the link)

A/N: Tons of interactions between Zoro and reader. Not a long chapter, but I wanted to offer more insight about the reader's past and the relationship she has with her crewmates. I know they travel from Syrup village to Baratie in a day, but I wanted this exact scenario, so let's say it took a half a day longer ;) Not proofread yet.

The reader is referred to as "Witch" because I have no intentions of using "Y/N".

I'm open for comments and opinions! <3

They spent the rest of the day buying supplies for the journey. With no previous discussions, they all came to the conclusion that Nami would handle the berries, with some opinions from the witch who was used to always saving up money.

The witch has loads of information and experience about the map of the stars above, so she decided to save Nami from a sleepless night. She already took a nap after they set sail a few hours before dawn, falling asleep after she laid down on the sofa in the cabin. She completely forgot about her wound, too tired to mind the pain at that time, as if she's got hit in the head again.

Now, she was purposely ignoring the ache. She analyzed the stars for long enough to figure out where they were heading. From Zoro's perspective, the way she counted the stars and figured out the cardinal points was witchy. Realistically, he knew that Nami must've had the same way of figuring out how to sail during the night and not only her, but other sailors as well.

The witch sat on the deck, her back resting against the mast, her head tilted back to gaze up at the stars. The wound stung and it was uncomfortable, but she didn't want to bother herself with cleaning it up. Also, she had no clue where some bandages might be, and she didn't have the energy to go around and ask about it.

Meanwhile, Zoro knocked two times at Nami's door, opening it after receiving a sign he could enter. The navigator was sitting on one of the hanging beds in the room with some notes and maps in her lap.

"Do you know where's some first aid kit?" Zoro asked.

"Hm?" she raised her head at him, frowning. "Did you trip after drinking too much booze and got hurt?"

He rolled his eyes with a sigh.

"I didn't even drink today. Just tell me where it is."

"Should note it down in the calendar," she scoffed with a smile. "There should be one in the chest over there," she pointed at it by tilting her head.

In the corner of the room, under a small desk, was the chest she mentioned. He opened it and found what he was searching for.

"Oh," he heard Nami whispering.

When he looked at her from where he was crouching, she had a shit-eating grin on her face.

"What?"

He was absolutely clueless. The most oblivious man Nami has ever seen and, for the record, they were all oblivious as fuck.

"Nothing," she smiled innocently.

What is she up to? Zoro wondered.

With the first aid kit box in his hand, he got out of the room and walked back to the deck, where the same woman stargazed. His hand was still resting on the hilt of his sword while he stomped on the wooden planks. She hasn't moved one inch, except for the gentle smile that tugged at her lips.

The only source of light was a gas lamp on a barrel close to her and she glowed. He stopped in his tracks to gaze at her the same way she looked up at the sky and he realized quickly that his lungs stopped functioning.

I'll need some booze after this.

He let the kit fall in her lap and he was surprised by the lack of discomfort she showed at his sudden appearance. Each time someone came from behind, he saw her step away or react in some kind of way, be it a grimace on her face or a sharp inhale.

"What's this for?"

"Take a guess," he shook his head.

She was impossible. Did she do it intentionally?

"Shit, I completely forgot about the bandana," her eyes widened in surprise.

She undid the knot of said material as fast as she could, inhaling through her teeth at the sharp pain.

Only then he noticed an unopened bottle of something — he hoped it would sting his throat — sitting to her other side. He sat cross legged and leaned in over her legs to wrap his fingers around the bottle, tugging with his teeth at the cork.

"That was mine," he heard a faint voice complaining.

"It was."

He hid the smirk threatening to show on his face by placing the bottle at his lips, taking some long gulps. The alcohol stung so pleasantly against his tongue and he anticipated a sense of calm once he'd drink enough.

A restrained hiss got his attention. The witch's lips were knitted together and she tried to clean her wound with a wet cotton ball — it was alcohol, he guessed. After swallowing hard, she continued to tap the skin lightly. Her other hand was digging into her thigh, distracting her with another kind of ache. She was obviously concentrating, the reason why she didn't spit out smart remarks at him.

Zoro sighed heavily and let the bottle down with a low thud.

"Will you need stitches?"

"No," she muttered.

If she wouldn't have been hurt, her face would've looked almost cute.

Since when did he start thinking that way about people? It must be the booze.

She seemed relieved when she finished. The next step was to apply some ointment, which was less troubling.

Then, came the impossible task: wrapping her wound with one hand. Since her other upper arm was hurt, she couldn't do it any other way. The wheels before her eyes worked well enough — certainly, there were a few ways she could do that.

It couldn't be that hard, right?

The swordsman by her side achieved inhuman abilities, because telepathy wasn't something that happened naturally. She needed help dressing the wound.

The real issue was will she ask for help?

He didn't know exactly why he wanted to hear her say something. Anything. The smallest word leaving her lips would sound like a yes in his head and he would act accordingly with the alcohol swimming through his veins.

It wasn't in his nature to be so calculated. Nonetheless, exceptions always existed.

He didn't need to be proud about helping her. No, it was far from that. He had another kind of pride and it settled in the scabbards still holding his swords at his hip. Zoro wanted to see how far she'd go until she realized that asking for help wasn't a sin.

"Um," her lips parted.

"Give me the bandages."

He opened his hand for her to place the white material in it.

"I wanted to say that you owe me a bottle of booze," she blinked up at him confused.

He didn't wait for her to give him the bandages, instead, he took them by himself and positioned himself a bit closer. Suddenly, the alcohol seeping in his bones helped more than he guessed the first time he saw the bottle.

Was he holding back his usual strength at that moment? There were no coherent thoughts in his head while he wrapped the white material around her upper arm as gentle as he was capable of. Zoro avoided grazing his fingertips over her skin, but it was impossible any other way, so he found himself in a weird stance: his hand would hold her arm still from time to time while he rolled the bandages.

A cruel mistake was to look into her eyes, which he unfortunately did. The witch was also looking at him. Probably, he should be more grateful about the way her intense gaze didn't falter when it met his own, even if it made his stomach tingle.

He drank too much. Or too little.

There was one way to find out and that would be taking another bottle to drown down his throat.

He was never the one to look away first, be it an enemy or a friendly staring contest. However, he failed that time.

There must've been some potion in that bottle. Otherwise, there was no explanation.

"Thank you."

It was the second time she thanked him in a day. The swordsman didn't see much in these things, but he was genuinely intrigued about the nature of his own gestures. As someone used to actions, questions sounded pointless in between his thoughts. Then, why did he suddenly ask instead of straight up finding out the answer?

Why did he do these things without being asked to?

"Sure," he let out softer than it was meant to be.

He got up and headed to the galley to grab two more bottles of alcohol.

There was a different feeling than the usual duty he felt about people. She didn't need his protection or help, she could perfectly do it all on her own. She skillfully tossed knives through the air and was awfully proud about her abilities, a confident smile on her face.

Zoro never asked, but he guessed she was part of that world long before they appeared in her life. It wasn't possible to follow the rules of the sea unless you sailed before and she conquered the power of water itself.

And the strength of his heart on top of that.

"Zoro!" Luffy's enthusiastic voice beamed. "Let's learn the stars."

"What?"

Wasn't that the reason why Nami and the witch were on that ship? They already knew a lot.

"It's fun! I didn't know there were bears in the night sky!"

"Of course there aren't bears in the sky!" Usopp commented.

"They're just constellations, Luffy," the woman chuckled.

Both of them came to her like curious owls with big eyes, begging her to show them some stars; now, all of them sat on the deck. Of course their supposed captain would learn about anything only to forget half of it the next minute, but the intention mattered, right?

She didn't expect the swordsman to accept Luffy's invitation, but he did so, sitting in the same place he did a minute ago. Only the booze would determine whether or not he'd have enough patience to concentrate.

"Why is it called Ursa Major? Is there another one?" Usopp turned his head.

"Yes: Ursa Minor," she pointed her index finger at the sky above. "The Ursa Major is there, right? They look the same, but the other one is smaller."

The sky was filled with stars and there were so many of them, it was almost impossible to spot a specific one. They sparkled beautifully, as if they smiled back at the pirates eager to learn their names.

"Where, where?" Luffy looked up, confused.

The witch moved her hand to the side and pointed at another constellation.

"Search for the same figure, but in smaller form."

"Fount it!" Luffy and Usopp exclaimed in unison.

She let out another soft chuckle and the swordsman paid more attention to that lovely sound than the stars she mentioned.

"See the tip of the bear's tail? That is its brightest star and it's called the North Star. Whenever you point towards the spot on the horizon directly below it, it means you're pointing north."

Luffy's lips were opened in surprise while he looked at the sky.

"So you're also a navigator!"

"Just because I'm better than Zoro at directions doesn't mean I'm a navigator," she joked lightly.

"I think you're overdoing it," the swordsman huffed.

"That's why you were so late?!"

Usopp was already cackling.

"The mansion was in front of your eyes and you still decided to go the other way," she nudged at him.

"I was just checking around," he muttered between gritted teeth.

"You're so bad at lying, Zoro," Luffy teased him.

Their captain and the sniper were laughing colorfully, until tears gathered on top of their lashes. The sound was accompanied by the same reaction coming from the witch, who was unaware of the palm she placed on Zoro's shoulder, while the other hand was holding onto her stomach.

However, the swordsman was hyper aware about it. It warmed him up almost as pleasantly as the booze, but it was a foreign sensation settling into his stomach. Those gentle fingers that wielded knives and had been dirtied by blood touched him and he didn't have an ounce of will within to push her away.

It's just a touch, what am I getting so worked up for?

"We just need to find a musician and the crew is complete!" Luffy smiled brightly.

The witch's hand dropped from Zoro's shoulder, gripping at one of the bottles he brought with him.

"I can sing," she whispered as if it was meant to be only for herself.

"I can dance!" Usopp grinned. "Guys, you have no idea how I was the star of countless parties! Captain, you have everyone you need right here."

Before the Straw Hat could say anything, the witch opened her bottle.

"With a guitar, Luffy, otherwise I won't start disturbing the fish in the sea," she let out a short sigh.

"If we find a guitar at our next destination, do you promise to play the guitar?"

The puppy eyes boring holes into her forehead couldn't be ignored so easily. Defeated, she nodded and took a long gulp from the bottle.

"Great!"

And with that, Luffy got to his feet, his chin tilted down to look at his friends.

"Good luck with the night watch."

"I'll come to watch over you, Luffy," Usopp solemnly touched his heart. "Who knows when an enemy will sneak in. I need to be prepared and protect my friends!"

"So tonight we find out about your snoring habits," the swordsman arched his eyebrow.

"I don't snore!" he frowned while he walked side by side with Luffy.

"Good night, you two," the witch smiled in their direction.

Zoro continued drinking from the bottle in his hand, the first one he picked up already empty, sitting by his side. The witch had far less resistance than him and none of them got some well deserved sleep in the last two days. He acknowledged the proximity between him and the woman sitting at his right, but annoyance crawled up his throat — why he wanted to be near her was beyond him.

"For how long have you been on a ship?" he wondered out loud.

"Is it obvious it's not my first time?"

They turned towards each other at the same time, locking gazes the same way they did when he bandaged her wound. At least that time there was a plausible and logical reason — one he created on the spot. The second time it happened, he was just pulled towards her like a magnet.

And maybe they were not exactly opposites nor each other's mirror, but they always found themselves in the presence of the other.

"This can't be your first journey on the sea," he shrugged. "You're not scared at all."

"Did you just imply that I'm scared of water?" she cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Then are you scared of land? You were damn anxious back in Syrup Village."

The witch crossed her arms under her chest in a defensive manner.

"It was my intuition."

"You were losing your shit."

His teasing comment received a wide-eyed stare from her.

"That's not true."

Her lips were pulled in a thin line right after and she averted her eyes, looking back at the stars. She was searching for the right words to tell him lame stories she was fond of.

"I'm used to sailing, yeah. Was part of a crew for almost two years and then left because I couldn't find my place there. It was my father's crew."

"So it runs in the family."

"Kind of," a sour smile creeped on her lips. "My mother hated pirates. How come she married one? He didn't become a pirate until years later."

After another long glance towards a constellation she just noticed, she brought the bottle to her lips and gulped down until half of the bottle was gone. The memories flowing back always left a bad taste in her mouth, a sensation she wanted to fight against with some more alcohol.

"And you are a pirate."

The conclusion was obvious.

"I don't think I have to say it out loud, do I?"

The sad smile on her lips didn't falter. The spoken admission that her mother hated her guts for choosing the same life as her father would've hurt more than the silence that spoke for itself. Memories sucked her into the past like a water vortex in the middle of the sea.

"What do you mean by 'I'm leaving in the morning?" her mother had furrowed her eyebrows at her.

The tension could've been cut through with the knife resting against the young girl's hip. She resembled her father too well: they walked the same, they had the same gaze and far too similar weapons.

Before her mother's eyes wasn't standing a daughter anymore, but a pirate, monsters she hated from the bottom of her heart. Cruel, ruthless, merciless monsters with no hearts. People with egos bigger than their bounties and strength that could wipe away entire islands.

Demons.

Her daughter has become a demon.

"You're talking after your monster of a father," her mother spat out after slapping the table with her palm.

"We both know he was more humane than you."

"Where did you learn such words from, girl?!"

"You."

The witch was still standing in front of the door with a bag hung over her right shoulder. A merely sixteen years old with fire burning in her irises.

"He's a criminal and a thief on top of it! A liar! A betrayer!" the woman's voice rose higher, threatening to break glass.

"Maybe you didn't agree with his living style, but he's never done anything to us! The sea is a battlefield, it's kill or get—"

"I've heard that excuse coming from him countless times, I don't need you to quote that man!"

"If he is just 'a man' for you, just know that he was always more of a father for me than you were a mother."

A sharp sound bounced off the walls and the young witch's cheek stung after the woman's hand flew across her face. Her head turned to the side, but no whimper left her lips.

"I dare you to say that again. As if you didn't live under my rooftop ever since he became a pirate — a monster."

The young girl used to be bold even at that time. Her left cheek ached painfully, but it didn't stop the fire from burning. No, it was like pouring gasoline over it, thinking it would stop.

She turned her head towards her mother and rolled her shoulders back, eyes boring holes into her forehead.

"He was a better father than you were a mother."

A stable voice and clear words filled with venom to the brim. She didn't falter, nails digging into her palms as she tried to contain her anger — her hatred.

"Is that what you wanted to hear? You lack self awareness, mom. You seem to forget about the times when you'd tell me I'll become a failure just like him. You intentionally brush aside the speeches you gave me about how no matter what I wish for, I have to just suck it up and accept the fact that all I will ever be is an obedient girl. I'm not obedient and I'm not a girl — I'm a pirate. No one on the sea cares whether or not I'm a woman."

"These are fairy tales for children! You won't be able to survive for longer than a day. You will come back crawling at me and I'll remind you who was right!"

"See? Exactly what I was saying. You're just proving my points and yet you cease to realize. Everytime you hit me, everytime you degrade me, every single time when you want to show me you have power over me — all of these are pointless."

A reckless teenager grasping for the first time at the notion of freedom after mourning her deceased father for five days. A flame learning how to burn.

She made one step closer, the furrow between her eyebrows deepening.

"Kill me. You've always craved seeing my father dead, didn't you? Why don't you kill me too? Wouldn't that make you happy? I bet it would, since you always acted like it."

Words could hurt and she learnt it from her mother, it seemed like. She's never heard someone use words like she wielded knives better than that woman and that time it backfired.

Before she even realized it, the bottle her fingers gripped at was almost empty, making it easier for tears to gather in the corners of her eyes. She's been silent for so long and Zoro glanced at her from his peripheral.

"And him?"

"Been dead for three years. I became a part of his crew right after. It didn't make any sense to continue living in my hometown any longer. They're like a shadow ship — they refused to give the title of Captain to someone else, even if technically the one in command now is the Vice Captain. Whenever they need to make a decision, they think of what their deceased Captain would've done."

The swordsman by her side crossed his arm over his chest and grinned.

"That's one hell of a loyal crew."

They were my family, even if they would drink late in the night and have awful cooking skills. They would laugh and offer me advice, they taught me what a pirate's pride is about.

"You still seem regretful."

The witch turned her head towards Zoro and he swore he'd never seen so many emotions flowing in those beautiful eyes of hers. They glowed with golden sparkles hence the gas lamp. There laid honesty and fierceness, a human who turned against its nature and decided to go further.

"I never regretted leaving. I don't regret any of it. Maybe there were things I shouldn't have said or done. I could've been kinder, less revengeful. If I am to be honest, despite being aware of the consequences and effects of my actions, I don't regret it. It can't be undone and there's no place for apologies when I meant what I said."

"The crew scolded you."

It wasn't a question, but a statement. Obviously, the crew was formed by men and a few women past twenty. They had more life experience than her.

"A little bit. They were, indeed, more mature than me," her head turned towards the horizon again.

Vague and cryptic answers, harder to decipher than Poneglyphs. However, Zoro wasn't an archeologist and he didn't ask for more than she was able to share, which made her shoulder relax. The witch didn't even notice when she tensed up.

He stretched out his legs from their crossed position and leaned better against the barrel. It seemed like the pirate hunter didn't have any intention of leaving the deck.

Their shoulders remained close and none of them moved closer or farther away. Both of them were content with burning a little more before admitting the truth even to themselves.

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