#and god. if i could DESCRIBE to you how much we had to fend for ourselves in that era.

[storm-driver]

I WISH, I WISH SO BADLY THAT I COULD EXPLAIN THE ROXAS HATES WAFFLES THING TO NEWER PEOPLE, BUT I JUST FUCKING CAN'T, YOU HAD TO BE THERE TO FULLY UNDERSTAND IT.

[exoexid]

the suyeol lore is so crazy

[juyeonszn]

BAD IDEA RIGHT?

PAIRING lee juyeon x f!reader

WORD COUNT 4.10k

GENRES … smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, literally porn with plot. like i’m so insane, enemies to “we fuckin” as reese put it 🥰, frat boy tbz again!!!, juyo is literally so irritating in the first half im not even gonna lie, he’s also a manwhore, making out, reader is a bit of a brat, juyeon has a dirty mouth, kinda dom!juyeon, vaginal fingering, oral (m! receiving), SHOWER SEX !12!1!, he’s hitting it from the back btw, unprotected sex, creampie, juyeon is actually… i don’t even know how to describe him writing his character made me want to claw at the walls lol

SUMMARY deep down you’re fully aware that you’re probably making a huge mistake by giving into juyeon just like every other girl on campus ever has. but paired with how intoxicating his mouth feels on your own and the steam filled bathroom clouding your head, you can’t seem to find a logical reason to stop.

MORE heheheh im back 🤭 oh my god this was actually the cause of a week full of sleepless nights. i genuinely drove myself crazy writing this bc NEED FRRRR like idk i’m so 😭 delusional. ANYWAYS. ANON. THIS ONE IS FOR U. U REQUESTED THIS AND I RAN WITH IT. u wanted more juyeon, i deliver more juyeon ;) also shout out to ally, moni, AND reese for beta’ing 🥺 i love u my cupcakes!! prompt used: 18 <3

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble

If there was anyone on Earth that you hated more than anything, it had to be Lee Juyeon.

To put things plainly, he was quite literally the bane of your existence. Being around him made your blood pressure skyrocket and gave you migraines that lasted for days. It was insane how one person could affect you so much by doing so little. It seemed as if he thrived off of getting under your skin.

Considering he was the captain and the pitcher of the baseball team, it wasn’t shocking. He was also a member of one of the most popular fraternities on campus. But he happened to be roommates with one of your best friends, and that made it ten times worse.

You’d known Changmin since third grade, along with Kevin and Chanhee. When he mentioned he’d be joining a fraternity in college, you were a bit apprehensive. All you knew about them was what you’d read in YA books and seen in movies. Neither gave them a good rep. Part of you wanted to talk him out of it, but you knew this was something you had to let him do, given you were adults and it was his college experience. At least you still had the other two under one roof.

The first time you met Juyeon was also the first time you attended a frat party. Changmin had just passed his initiation after waiting a year and he invited all of you to celebrate. You were excited for the most part since high school parties were more for an adrenaline rush due to the fact that your parents never let you go to them and you either snuck out or lied about going. You didn’t have to worry about the limitations of parents this go around.

The boys disappeared almost immediately upon arrival, leaving you to fend for yourself in the very crowded fraternity house. You could hardly pass through a room without bumping into somebody’s shoulder or elbow, huffing as you maneuver around the house equivalent to a sardine can. Your drink nearly spilled onto your top multiple times and you were glad you decided against the heels for the night.

You chugged the rest of the jungle juice in your cup as you stepped onto the patio, where it’s just as noisy and just as packed. You’re lucky enough to find an empty lounge chair near the house’s pool, unoccupied and calling your name. When your legs touch the plastic chair, you flinch at how hot it is, most likely from being in the sun all day.

“Woah, do you want a cushion?”

You look up at the source of the voice. You’ve seen him around campus before, and even at Changmin’s games. Lee Juyeon was just one of those people that you had to know, unless you’d been living under a rock. Just like everyone else in the world, you couldn’t deny how attractive he was. From this distance, you truly understood why girls would giggle like high schoolers over the guy.

“Uh, sure. Yeah, that would be great actually.” You nod, watching as he wanders towards the shed in the corner of the big ass backyard. He returns promptly, holding his red solo cup between his teeth and one hand on your lower back guiding you to a standing position so he could place down the cushion.

“As a thank you, can I get your name?” He gives you a cocky little smile that should’ve been a warning. And looking back on it, you should’ve seen his true personality sooner, to be completely honest. The way his lips curled at the corners, like a conniving bastard who got off on irritating others.

“It’s Y/N,” you say, messing with your empty cup. “I’d ask for yours, but I kinda already know.”

He laughs at that, scratching the back of his neck. “That’s not surprising.” It’s at this point that you’re starting to see through his sweet facade, but despite knowing better— despite always keeping your guard up— you let yourself fall for it just this once. All because you didn’t want to fuck things up for Changmin. He owed you big time.

“Well, you are a talented athlete.” You didn’t want to fuel what is probably already a massive ego, but you’d rather compliment his baseball skills than the fact that he was infamous for screwing around with half of the girls on campus. Technically, that was a feat of its own since he’d only been in school for a year.

“Oh, so you think I’m talented?” He rested a hand on your chair, leaning down to your level. Confidence oozed from every corner of his being and if you weren’t so self aware, perhaps you could’ve ended up like all those other victims of his charismatic behavior.

“I go to the games for Changmin,” you scoff, glancing away from his face to stop the heat rising up your neck. “I’ve only paid attention to you once or twice.”

“Yeah, sure. Let's go with that,” he bites his lip, blatantly checking you out. “I wouldn’t mind paying attention to you a little.”

“I’m unimpressed, Juyeon,” you snort, raising an eyebrow at him. “Does this shit really work on everyone?”

“I can drop the act if you want, baby. Just let me know when you’re ready to stop playing hard to get.” He stands upright, running a hand through his hair.

Every time you ran into Lee Juyeon after that, he was more and more insufferable. He knew his influence on you, too, if his smug fucking grin was anything to go by. You wish you could just slap it off of him. However, you stood by being the bigger person in any given situation, so that was off the table. (And half of you still felt a moral obligation to not get your friend into hot water.)

“Would it kill you to play nice every once in a while? I do live with the dude, you know.” Changmin whines, trailing you in the supermarket like a lost puppy.

“He’s got a point, N/N,” Kevin adds, humming as he tosses a boxed dinner into the cart. “I get that he’s a little bit of an overconfident douche, but rolling your eyes at him when he hasn’t even done anything just makes it worse on you. And JiChang, too, I guess.”

“Bro…”

You weren’t even sure why he decided to tag along with you and the other boys when you mentioned grocery shopping. In fact, he might as well have stayed his ass home if he was just going to gang up on you the whole time. Chanhee sighs dramatically, bringing your shopping cart to a halt.

“Can we not have a peaceful grocery trip? Is that impossible or something?” His lips form a thin line. “I swear, all we do is talk about how much Y/N hates Lee Juyeon. Can we please move on?”

“Thank you, Chanhee, I agree,” you nod along, walking backwards as you do so and ignoring the faces your friends make. “He makes me want to kill myself.”

“Who makes you want to kill yourself?”

You jump up, frightened by the sudden voice in your ear. Your friends all give you sheepish smiles, as if they’d already tried to warn you. (What shitty jobs they did.) With a hand over your heart, you turn around to meet— speak of the devil— none other than Lee Juyeon himself.

“What are you doing here?” Your eyes narrow and your arms cross over your chest. Luck could never be on your side when it came to this guy.

“Uh, last I checked, this was a public supermarket. Where I can publicly shop. I wasn’t aware that I had to run that by you. So sorry, sweetheart.” He pouts, his expression so theatrical you nearly give in to your constant urge to punch him in the face.

You feel your eye twitch, and it takes everything in you to step back and assess just how bad it would be if you committed murder right now. Changmin comes to your rescue, doing damage control as best as he can while Kevin attempts to talk you out of becoming a criminal.

The two frat brothers do their little fraternity handshake thing and then finally he’s out of sight, out of mind, allowing you to visibly relax. Chanhee purses his lips. “Okay, so maybe I do see where the anger comes from. And holy shit, Y/N, you have the patience of a saint.”

“The person you have called is unavailable! At the tone, please leave a message. When you have finished recording, you may—”

“Goddammit.” You curse, ending the unsuccessful call.

The downside of working far from campus, was working far from campus. You didn’t have your own car and usually relied on one of your roommates for a ride to and from. But now here you are, stranded at work while it’s pouring cats and dogs outside. Kevin was in class and Chanhee wasn’t picking up his phone. You could call Changmin, but you’re pretty sure he also had a class around this time.

Just as you’re about to succumb to your demise, you receive a text from Chanhee.

[2:57 pm] michael jackson: IM SO SORRY AJNSSJNW BUT SOMETHING CAME UP WITH A GROUP PROJECT

[2:57 pm] michael jackson: DONT WORRY THOUGH, IVE GOT IT COVERED UR STILL GETTING PICKED UP

“Could today get any worse?” You mutter to yourself, locking your phone and tossing it into your purse. As if your timing couldn’t be better, you spoke entirely too soon. Your eyes squint at the unfamiliar car rolling up under the carport. Your brows furrowed in confusion, because you had no idea who could be your saving grace. Chanhee was a wild card so who knew who he had on speed dial.

But then the passenger window rolls down and you wish the ground would just swallow you whole. Lee Juyeon grins that stupid fucking grin of his, beckoning you to his car as it unlocks when he shifts into park. You shake your head.

“No way. There is absolutely no way I am getting into that car.” You shout over the pelting rain.

Juyeon tsks, his eyes rolling when he reaches over the center console to open the door for you. “Is there anyone else who would drop everything they’re doing to pick you up in this weather?”

Your lips pull into a flat line. The answer was no, you didn’t have anyone else who would drop everything they were doing to pick you up in this weather. That was the reason Juyeon was here, you supposed. It didn’t mean you weren’t at least going down without a fight, though. Except, Lee Juyeon was a man who was all too comfortable with how expressive you were. Most notably towards him.

“What? Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?”

“Fuck you. I’d rather walk.” You seethe, starting straight in the direction of your apartment. Juyeon groans at first, your constant need to prove yourself getting on his nerves for once. Then his eyes widen slightly when he realizes you’re not joking.

The truth was that the rain was freezing and you’d love to be in the shelter of a warm car. In fact, you didn’t really care that Juyeon was the person driving. But you were too deep into the bit now. You couldn’t just turn around and get in the car, for you had a pride to protect at this point.

“Shit.” Juyeon swears under his breath, reaching into the backseat to grab an umbrella. Sure he loved to tease you and rile you up, but he wasn’t cruel. Your friends would have his head on a silver platter if he let anything happen to you.

You pause in your steps when you’re no longer being showered in rain water. Juyeon holds the umbrella over your head with a worried expression. You feel kind of bad for making him chase after you even though he’d already gone out of his way to pick you up. Sometimes you wish your ego wasn’t so fragile. Maybe then you could accept help when you needed it instead of making things worse.

“Can you please stop being so stubborn and just get in the damn car, Y/N? Do you have to make everything difficult all the time?” Usually, pissing you off made him over the moon, but you can tell he’s not exactly pleased at the moment. You swallow thickly, nodding quietly and following him back to his car.

The whole drive to your apartment is silent save for the song playing on his speakers. It’s not as loud in comparison to the storm outside, but you’re grateful that it’s filling the space between you. If only Lee Juyeon hadn’t done such an excellent job ticking you off like a bomb, then maybe you would’ve just hopped in the passenger seat with ease. But no, he had to goad you until you made an irrational decision and now here you are.

As he pulls up to your building, you say a little prayer that you don’t regret your next actions. He stops as close to the stairs as he can, but you turn to him before unbuckling your seatbelt. With a deep breath, you ask, “Would you like to— uh— come inside?”

He glances from you to the stairs and then shrugs, parking in the nearest empty spot. He holds the umbrella over both of you as you make your way to your unit, lightly sprinting so you don’t get anymore soaked than you already are. You figured the least you could do was invite the dude into your home and offer him some hot tea, just so he could warm up before heading back to the TBZ house. Your roommates not being here to make fun of you was also a plus.

There’s still an unspoken tension even after you’ve shed your raincoats and shoes by the front door, settling into your apartment and its coziness. Juyeon sits at the breakfast bar as you busy yourself with preparing the kettle and getting a couple tea bags. His watchful gaze is a little intimidating now that you’ve seen his serious side.

Once you’ve finished making the tea, you set his mug in front of him. You look everywhere but him when you say, “I’m gonna take a shower if you’re okay waiting out here by yourself.” He doesn’t respond verbally, so you take it as your cue to leave.

You turn on the water to let it heat up before gathering your essentials. When you’ve completed your back and forth trip from the bathroom and your bedroom, you’re finally ready to just relax in your shower and forget about today’s events. But how could you ever truly relax with Lee Juyeon in your space, permeating your peace?

As you’re shutting the bathroom door, a foot jams itself between the threshold and stops you. You glance up from the floor to meet Juyeon’s eyes. They’re darker than you’re used to, a deep shade of brown that has your stomach twisting into knots.

“You know, Y/N, this game of cat and mouse is starting to get old,” he takes a step into the steaming room, locking the door behind him and trapping you. “Just admit to yourself that you want me.”

You sputter at his bold words, because you don’t. You don’t want Lee Juyeon. Why would you want Lee Juyeon? “I’m not gonna lie to myself. I don’t want you.”

He laughs humorlessly, closing the gap between you just a little more. You don’t have it in you to back away from him. He reaches a hand up to tuck some damp hair behind your ear. You’re still wet and cold from your stupid idea to walk in the rain, but Juyeon plans to warm you up perfectly. “You sure?”

“Positive,” you breathe.

“Why don’t we test that theory?” Now he’s got you backed into the wall, his face a hair’s breadth distance from your own. “I have a feeling I can change your mind.”

You don’t know if it’s the heat of the bathroom or Juyeon’s lips being so close, but so far simultaneously that has your brain turning into static. Your head feels fuzzy, like you’re watching TV on an empty channel through a blurry lens. You lick your lips, vision trained on his. “Why don’t we?”

That’s all the confirmation he needs to press your mouths together in a searing kiss, hotter than the temperature of the room. You feel him smile against you when you make no move to push him away, instead carding your fingers through his hair. He groans when you tug a bit, twirling the longer strands around your index.

His hands slip under your top, thumbs rubbing circles into your waist. This is a terrible idea. Deep down you’re fully aware that you’re probably making a huge mistake by giving into Juyeon just like every other girl on campus ever has. But paired with how intoxicating his mouth feels on your own and the steam filled bathroom clouding your head, you can’t seem to find a logical reason to stop.

When you part for air, you both start stripping your top layers, resuming your attacks on each other’s lips once you’re left in nothing but undergarments. Juyeon trails kisses along the side of your neck, nipping and sucking wherever he feels fit. You gasp when he finds that particular spot that contributes to the butterflies fluttering about your stomach. “God, you’re so annoying.”

“Yeah?” And despite getting ready to give you the pleasure of your life, his grin against your skin still manages to irritate you. “You hate me so much, huh?”

“Mhm,” you whine as his fingers dip beneath the band of your panties, toying with your sensitive cunt. “Hate you so bad— ah…”

“You might wanna shut up soon, sweetheart,” Juyeon warns, sliding his ring finger between your lower lips. “Or else I’ll give that mouth something to do.”

“I’ll do whatever I want,” you pull his hand from your underwear, kneeling in front of him when he furrows his eyebrows in confusion. Your nails scrape lightly down his abdomen before hooking into the waistband of his briefs, freeing him from the material. It takes a lot out of you to not visibly react at the sight of his cock, hard and flushed to the tip. You couldn’t dare inflate his ginormous ego, the situation you were currently in already doing enough on its own. His size is impressive too, making you wonder just how he expects you to take him like a champ.

“What a fucking brat,” he hisses, your tongue swiping along the underside of his dick. “Always gotta have the last word, don’t you?”

“Mmmm,” you moan, mouth full with just the tip. You’d never been the type of person who cared about size. As long as they knew what they were doing and made you finish, you held no qualms with their length. In fact, you don’t think you ever even paid much attention to anyone’s dick in your life. But if there was anything to back Lee Juyeon’s cockiness, it had to be, well, his cock.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve imagined this moment,” he confesses, wrapping your hair around his hand into a makeshift ponytail. “But, fuck, this is so much better.”

The admission shoots straight to your core and you find yourself whimpering, the vibrations against his dick driving him crazy. He has to support his weight with one hand flat to the wall, the other still tightly fisting your hair. With every suck and flick of your tongue, he tugs a little more, the sting on your scalp providing you with more pleasure than pain. You pull off of him to take a breath, jerking him off as you do so.

“Am I meeting your expectations?” You bat your eyelashes up at him, drool sliding down your chin and makeup smeared under your eyes in tear streaks. He groans at the sight of you, forcing you to a standing position so he could kiss you again.

You start dragging him towards the shower, unhooking your bra and stepping out of your panties. He raises an eyebrow at you, amused. “You want me to fuck you in the shower, baby? Have you slipping all over my cock?”

“Duh,” you can’t help but roll your eyes at his question, practically pawing at his underwear to get him out of them fully. “Did you think I sucked your dick on the bathroom floor for fun?”

“That mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble one of these days.”

He kicks them off, reconnecting your lips as you step into the shower. The hot water hits your back almost like a massage, synchronously getting in your mouth as you make out with Juyeon aggressively. It’s like he can’t get enough of you, big hands kneading and groping everywhere and nowhere all at once. You feel insane, especially with how good of a kisser he is. It’s like you’re on cloud nine and nothing’s capable of bringing you down.

When he’s finally lost his patience, he spins you around, pressing you cheek first to the shower wall. You feel him against your lower back, his lips leveling with your ear. In spite of acting as if he had himself under control, you can hear the pant in his breathing, deep voice a little desperate than usual. He has a hand gripping your thigh and picking up your leg.

“No protection?” He asks, his cock already gliding between your folds in anticipation.

“Mm-mm,” you shake your head as best you can with his body sandwiching you to the tiled surface. “Wanna feel you raw.”

“Fuck, you can’t say shit like that to me,” Juyeon groans into your ear, giving no warning as he spits down your front and hikes your leg higher, thrusting into your cunt. “You’ll make me wanna stay buried in you forever.”

You moan, hand coming up to hold the side of his head as he fucks you into the shower wall. If someone were to ask about this very moment, you weren’t too sure how you’d defend yourself. A moment of weakness, perhaps? But if a moment of weakness felt this fucking good every time, you might fall into a habit of judgment lapses.

He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, nibbling and biting your shoulder and the surrounding area with each snap of his hips. The angle he drives into you at has stars forming at the back of your vision, the tip of his cock brushing that one spot deep inside of you whenever he thrusts up. You don’t even think his entire dick is in you as he does this, but you also don’t really have the mind to care, way too focused on memorizing the veins of his shaft with your walls.

You’re far too gone to consider the consequences of your actions, the horizon of your release just beyond your fingertips now. You’d never needed someone so viscerally before, so carnally. Yet here you were, sucking Lee Juyeon’s cock in with your pussy like you were a damn vacuum. The sounds you’re making bounce back and forth on the walls, no doubt louder than the shower water itself.

“I— I-I’m so— fuck,” you mewl, words wobbling. “I’m so, so close, Juyo.”

“Yeah, baby?” He sighs in your ear, nudging your sensitive clit with his thumb while raising your leg as much as he physically can. “Me too, where do you want me?”

“Inside,” you don’t think you even make sense anymore, babbling as he continues to fuck you stupid. “Please. Want you to cum inside me.”

Juyeon grits his teeth, pleased with himself that he didn’t orgasm right then and there. He uses his last ounce of strength to get the two of you off together. “C’mon, sweetheart, cum for me.”

The fogginess subsides pretty quickly after you’ve finished, your brain registering what just happened almost instantaneously. If you weren’t so hypersensitive, you would’ve pulled him out yourself and scrambled to flee the scene. (And maybe even the country.) There are many more rational thoughts running through your head now. The entire trajectory of your life has just been changed, whether you realized it or not. But the biggest issue was:

What the hell do you do now?

© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[nvvacanesworld]

gojo x reader 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪

Satoru x Reader !

Part 2 link here

tw-angst, hurt/no comfort, breakup, arguing, crying , swearing, GOJO IS MEAN :((( use of baby (as pet name) no curses,sorry if i missed anything let me know.

GOJO MASTER LIST!

Hot, Sweaty, and just uncomfortable. That’s how you would describe your situation right now being Sugurus house warming party.

The only reason you knew him and even were in this unfortunate position was because he was bestfriends with your boyfriend.

The famous Gojo Satoru. Women loved him, Men wanted to be him, and You? Couldn’t even fucking find him. Sitting in the kitchen on a barstool taking baby sips of your drink is where you found yourself after he left you when you guys walked in when Geto spotted him and called him over. Leaving you to fend for yourself

Things with you guys have been rocky for a while now. You didn’t know why ether. It was just like he stopped being your sweet boyfriend who courted you and just became some jackass you couldn’t even recognize.

Caught up in your own mind you didn’t notice the guy next to you trying to get your attention. Turning your head you your eyes catch one’s that look tired looking at you.

“I’m sorry did you say something?” you said to him. Letting your eyes wander you really take in his features. A big muscular frame with tussled black hair, green eyes that could make any man cower in fear, and a smirk on his face adorned by a scar on his lips

“Yea, s’just never seen you before do you know the host?”

Hesitant with your answer you finally replied “Sorta, his bestfriend is my boyfriend so i tagged along” pausing “i don’t know where he went though” casting your state downwards in shame. It really was pathetic, being here alone while he was out probably having so much fun.

They say speak of the devil and he shall appear. Just in that moment gojo waltzed into the kitchen like he owned it along with geto and some other douchebags you didn’t care to know. Walking right passed you too. You felt so small and invisible.

Turning around he finally noticed you sitting there.

“Oh shit hey baby where have you been? I haven’t seen you since we walked in i would’ve thought you went home” He said causing him and his friends to chuckle

Meeting his eyes “I’ve been here the whole time i couldn’t find you and this place is so big so…” you said sheepishly. “and you weren’t answering your text ether satoru” god you felt so pathetic having to say that to your own boyfriend. Like you were some hoe begging for his attention. I mean who has to remind there own boyfriend to check their fucking phone. You started to get upset.

“Damn” He said starching his next “My fault” .The chatter and laughter that once filled the room died down now leaving an awkward silence.

Getting tired of being here you got up from your seat. “Can we go home i don’t feel well” you said tugging at his sleeves.

You didn’t miss how he face fell to a look of disappointment and you would’ve felt bad if you weren’t in this situation but you didn’t care. You had been here for three hours and you just wanted to go to sleep.

Flashing a look at Geto it seemed he gave in. “I’ll catch you guys later”

———————————————————————————————

the door slammed as you walked into you and gojo’s shared home, Or should you called it a house ? because home is where the heart is and there was no love in this shared space.

There used to be back when you moved in a year ago. You thought to yourself while walking to through the halls that led to the kitchen.

There you saw gojo sitting at the counter looking through some mail from this morning.

Your back turned to him going to the fridge you didn’t say anything to eachother. You didn’t want to speak to him right now. Not after he basically just forgot about you. It’s like he didn’t even want you there. It’s like he didn’t want you anywhere anymore. the tension in the air was thick until-

“Why were you acting like that back there?” not even looking up from the mail as he did it.

“What?” You were confused. If anything you should be asking him that question. Turning around to look at him you started at him going through the mail

“In the kitchen y/n, don’t play dumb. You were such a buzzkill” Finally relieving his issue with you.

For a while you just stared at him. You couldn’t believe he had a problem with you of all people. And for what?

“It’s like you were calling me out trying to paint me as a bad boyfriend”

“Because i said you weren’t answering your text?”

“You didn’t have to mention that. It’s like the whole room went silent after you did. You made everyone uncomfortable”

You couldn’t believe your ears. What the fuck was his problem

“maybe i wouldn’t have had to mention that if you answered your text Satoru, or i’ll do you one better, looked for me after you ditched me at the fucking door” your voice started to get louder. Just who did he think he was?

Groaning at what you said Satoru ran a hand down his face. Finally meeting your eyes.

“God y/n please don’t start. i cant enjoy myself now without you? huh? is that it? I don’t have to be glued to your hip 25/8”

 “Do you even realize what you did ? You left me alone Satoru! Alone, I don’t know everyone like you do.” Pausing tearing up you felt your voice start to crack “And it’s like you have been doing emotionally for ages, When’s the last time you did the thing you used to do? Like talking to me about my interests or even talking to me at all? It’s like you get home from work don’t even eat with me and go to sleep and do it all over again…do you even care about this fucking relationship?”

“Oh please don’t make this about you, i work and provide for us y/n, i can’t have time for you like i used to this new job doesn’t allow that” Dropping his mail and standing up “I wanted today to just be a day where i could finally get that stress from my job off my shoulders but here you are ‘bitchin, we’re you always so needy?”

Needy? Bitching? That’s how he sees me? You could basically feel your heart breaking at his harsh words.

“I’m not needy Satoru…i just need you to see me it’s like you don’t even care about us anymore” Tears were spilling down your flushed cheeks as you confessed what you’ve been feeling for what seems like eternity.

“You’re crying? y/n you’re being dramatic i’ve been busy with work of course i care about us how could you even say that?”

“I can say that because that’s how it feels being with you now, it’s like you don’t even care it’s like you’re a whole different person” Getting angrier you felt the need to vent out your frustrations. It was now or never. “The old Satoru would’ve never let us not talk, the old Satoru would’ve never called me needy or called me talking out my feelings “bitchin”, the old Satoru wouldn’t have left me in a kitchen alone for three hours while he did god knows what while ignoring his girlfriend” You yelled at him practically out of breathe by the time you were done.

But by the looks of it as you went in Satoru was getting sick of it. Slamming his hand on the island he spoke “God women what is your problem?” He seethed “ The old Satoru isn’t here anymore how about that”

Taken aback by his outburst you went to speak up but he beat you to it

“You know if i knew you were ‘gonna be this annoying i would’ve took Utahime up on her offer” He chuckled to no one in particular

You felt your blood run cold and your heart drop. What is he talking about ?

“What offer Satoru?” you croaked out

“You wouldn’t want to know”

You were done. You couldn’t live like this anymore you didn’t deserve to live like this anymore. When have you felt so weak?

“Then maybe you’re better off with her” You spat. Grabbing your coat you headed for the door.

He didn’t try to stop you. You don’t know why but that hurt more than anything that was or could’ve been said. Maybe because it told that it was really over.

But it also made you happy

Because it opened your eyes that there was no reason to stay.

AN: OKAYYYY SO that was my first time writing something i’m so sorry if it was bad. I feel like i was missing something maybe i should’ve been more descriptive.?? uhh idk let me know what you think REBLOGS AND FOLLOWS AND LIKE AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED AND FEEL FREE TO LEAVE REQUESTS PLEASE !!!!! I NEED IDEAS ON WHAT TO WRITE NEXT :)

[beardedblizzardstrawberry]

Grief

Wanderer X Gn!Reader

‘The most painful feeling is when a loved one is buried six feet underground, no longer breathing the same air as you. An overwhelm feel of grief is all you’re ever left with now’

W.c:1k

Warning: Mentions of death. Not proofread. 

Blizzard’s inconvenient note: This one’s a short one! I was sleep deprived so I don’t know what I wrote. One question for all. If you had the chance to grant a new name for the wanderer, what would you call him? 

Death...

Why does such topic stabs your heart with a mallet? 

Connected both of your palms, you silently pray underneath one of the many trees standing on the deserted island. Orange and red leaves snaps away from mothers’ branches. The wind taking them elsewhere as they follow. 

The nameless Wanderer stands behind you with a blank look on his face. He wonders. How do you deal with it? Why doesn’t it anger you when life has taken what’s important to you? Don’t you want to just burn everything down to ashes? Call it a joke? 

He finally snaps his thoughts when you gently call his name. The eyes you give him. You show a sense of warmth in them and he despises it. That look of those who used to be by his side. Nothing good ever comes from it. In the end, it’s all a waste. Why even bother?

“Right here is my brother. He was only six years old when he ultimately took his final breath. It’s only been a couple of years but it stays ingrained in my memory”, you said. You don’t tell much about your past to anyone. It’s simply the fact that you don’t trust anyone. The wanderer wasn’t an exception at first. When he opened up to you on the day the both of you were prepared to travel to Tatarasuna, you can’t help but feel a sense of guilt. You would’ve left him at Narukami Island but that goes against the promise you made to the Dendro Archon. Hence why you also decided to unravel your heart before him. 

“We lost both our parents to an unidentified disease. I was young and helpless at the time. Almost all of our neighbours migrated, leaving a few to fend in this tarnished land. My brother and I were one of them”

He listens carefully to whatever you have to say. In the end, it helped him push the burden off his chest when he told you about his story here. 

“When he lie lifeless on the floor of our home, I can’t describe the emotion I felt back then. I didn’t know whether its grief or...betrayal. I wanted to curse the world for it”

Tears brim your eyes as you speak without a care whether he chooses to hear you or not. It’s not the first time you’ve talked to yourself. Sniffles can be heard. He can only stand and watch you suffer from the memories you recall. He knows how you feel, deeply. In spite that, the two of you handled the grief differently whereas he became the destroyer of the world but you, you chose to be the peacemaker of this wretched world. That’s why you studied hard in Fontaine. To study about the life of human like machinery. Thinking that maybe you could bring your brother back. Thus,

It’s all just a fever dream...

Never meant for reality...

Until you met him. 

The first time the both of you laid eyes, both of you knew you wanted nothing from each other. Let alone be near each other. You were brought by one of the sages to abruptly meet with the Dendro Archon. True to her name, she knows everything about you in and out. By scoring first in this years dissertation, you were chosen to study -take care- the former Balladeer, once known as Scaramouche. 

The both of you had your petty fights. You’d admit. Mostly started because of him. However that was all in the past. The both of you learnt to set your differences aside and comply what is told. 

You study and observe him for the God of Wisdom, while he gets the chance to wander again and hone his new heart. This time not impended by the higher ups belonging to the Tsarita. 

You and the nameless wanderer explore far and wide. Immersing in the nature of what you call serene and tranquillity. Without even realising it, whenever he would cause a ruckus, whether It’d be fighting a mob or arguing humans,  you start to concern about his well being. You were beginning to care for him...

But unlike your deceased brother, the wanderer is immortal. You wonder if he feels the same way for you. What will happen if you’re no longer in this world? Does your kindness and affection reach out to him? Your body has fallen too deep into the pits of your emotion. Perhaps you wanted to give him the love that you couldn’t provide for your little brother. You didn’t need the same thing happening to him. 

The story sounds awfully similar to the boy he met centuries ago that he almost thought your brother to be that boy. But who knows, it could be his reincarnation dealing the same ending in sickness. He never displays it but he does have affection for you. Very close to how he felt for both the boy and Katsuragi. Possibly more unique. It’s just that he wishes to never return back to his vulnerable self. Never. Again. 

He doesn’t want to go through a mental break down again...

when you’re gone too...

You turn around slowly after finishing your prayers. He sees your eyes has redden and puffed up from the silent whimpers. His throat tightens at the sight. You remind him of himself and he hates it so much. Why can he conjure an image of himself at your place? For many years, he tried to walk in life as lifeless as he was made out to be. But he feels like a tin soldier who puts their hand on the left side of the chest when they are overwhelmed. 

You stroll to the Wanderer and took his hand in your grasp in which he intertwines his fingers with. The two of you continue your journey and face what awaits in the future. A howl of wind blows. Maple leaves dancing around mid air. He glances at you and his heart softens. He too wants to give you love. Something he wasn’t able to do because of the pain that derived from love. He wants to try again. After all, he’s basically a flipped leaf. 

And when you’re no longer around, he won’t act the same as a result of his previous action. Instead, he’ll be like you. As kind as you. To love like you, just as much as you did for your little brother. He’ll just accept it. Death comes after life. That’s what mortality is all about. 

Ultimately, he’ll wander again in the future. This time as a true lone wanderer without you by his side. Your mere existence becomes a recollection to him. All he can do is move forward in life while you’ll forever be remembered in his heart...

-

@Do not repost, plagiarise or submit this to other platforms without permission.

Like and Repost if you enjoy the post

[lesewut]

Parzival - A fool becomes the Grail’s King II/III

Wolfram von Eschenbach’s Parzifal - The poem retold by Friedrich Aldebrand with numerous illustrations by K. A. Wilke, published 1930 in Vienna, Austria

Parzival! A companion that will remain in this dreamer's heart forever. How was your search not mine too? How shouldn’t the reader not get excited and recognizing the dissimulation that well-intentioned advice from mother distorts us for life. How did lips of mine also remain silent, frightened of being too rude and thereby not only hurting myself but also not acting right? How should we not seek to say the right thing at the right time, in moderation, rather than either remaining silent or saying too much?

Parzival, they wanted to protect you from suffering and yet the fulfillment of your fate sought you out in a lonely forest. In you is the fearless father, in you is also the suffering mother.

And the seeker reads the books and, in addition to the simple Parzival, amazement at so much wealth and splendor, at the idea of tolerance the poet Eschenbach emphasizes and how often winds from the Orient blew into the heart of Europe!

The reader was able to experience the most beautiful and pure looks of love and feel the deep love that gave him a pleasurable pain. How noble were the women described and how brave were the men? In my head I see Parzival's father wearing the shirt of his beloved Herzeleide, in battles until it hung from his body in threads, until he had to leave her, because the lust for adventure ached in his chest.

How touching the sorrow for Love did make many physical wounds forgotten. And Gawan, whom we can accompany on his adventures, how he fends off enemies with a chess board and figures, how he has to complete the tasks in the magician Klinschor's castle: A miracle bed on wheels, hidden dangers in the walls and over four hundred women and four queens, who hope for liberation! What psychology we encounter in the characters, especially the women whose personalities correspond to Eschenbach's ideal:

Herzeleide, her name can be roughly translated as heart-pain or suffering in the heart, the virgin widow who, symbolizing selfless devotion and the archetype of mother and virgin. Trying to save her son from knighthood, lets him grow up in forest solitude, which can be interpreted as a sign of maternal hypertrophy. Shortly before her husband's death, she dreamt of her child as a Lindwurm (~wyvern), but when Parzival is born she puts everything into raising him. One of the core problems is also located here: The mothers oppressive nature, hindering the child to grow into an independent adult (risk of stayin a puer aeternus) and the missing father, who, in terms of psychological significance for the child, cannot prepare for his emancipation from the mother. Parzival would certainly still be living with his mother without meeting the four knights, whom he previously believed to be God, given how little he understands the world.

It is also important that Parzival fails to ask the question to the Fisher King the first time. It takes a longer journey, a maturation through the torment that he goes through, in order to become worthy of acquiring the Grail through inner healing and sanctification.

How was the accuser not even somewhat reconciled with his clumsiness when the hermit tried to soften Parzival's complaints against God?

For over five years, as in the good old blues songs, Parzival was far from his salvation, but during that time he acquired a depth that did not detract from his purity.

During this time he also met the grieving Sigune, Parzival's cousin, who for the first time gives him the identity that his mother could not give him, because for the first time he learns his worldly name; previously his mother had only given him pet names. Sigune is also the one who makes him aware of the meaning of the Grail, she asks him if he had asked the question and only then does he find out about what he missed.

Another female figure who represents the search for the Grail and the closeness to the Grail service, who becomes Parzival's conscious and unconscious guidance, is his later wife Kondwiramur, who will later give birth to two sons (twins? See also the meaning behind the symbolism here, for one child will wear the crown of “worldly service” and the other child will be “in the service of the Grail”).

And what other legendary characters didn't we also get to know:

The Grail messenger Kondrie, who is described very extensively and fearfully, but still has a loyal way of not letting anyone down. And the beautiful Moorish queen Belakane at Zazamank mourning the departing of Gahmuret, who freed her kingdom from King Eisenhart and was previously subordinate to Baruch of Baghdad, and how the pain of parting without a word hurt her so much that the reader only wanted to hope to read something pleasant from her in the ongoing story. Queen Belakane will not appear any further, but their son Feirefis, the son in magpie colors, whom Eschenbach describes so lovingly and how both brothers then fight each other unrecognized until they rejoice in the gain of their acquaintance and the equality of both, whether baptized or unbaptized , is repeatedly emphasized by the poet: that they were actually one and the separation into separate beings was just a phenomenon! What a wonderful thought of deep tolerance!

[vitamintonki]

Shield of faith 5e

So, recognizing this, some Bible translations use the words “in addition.” This is fine, but it loses the emphasis of above all. But this can’t be what he is saying, because we’ve already seen in weeks prior that it is not the most important piece. When we read the words, above all, we think that Paul is saying this is the most important piece. Both ways of translating this are right, but at the same time, both leave out the idea of what I think Paul was really trying to get across. He says there at the beginning of verse 16, above all, or as it says in some of your translations, in addition. Soldiers crouched behind it as if they were behind a wall.Īnd we also see from Paul’s choice of words in introducing this piece of the armor that this is the type of shield he has in mind. Sometimes, because of the nature of this shield, it was referred to as a “door.” To get the soldier, you first had to get past the door, or get past the shield. In this way, it all but covered the whole body. Rather than moved around to fend off attacks, it was planted in front of the soldier, and sometimes fixed in the ground. It was much larger than the other, and it was used differently. This is generally the type of shield we think about when we imagine a shield.īut there was also another kind of shield. One was smaller and round and could be used by moving the arm to defend a certain part of the body which was being threatened. There were two kinds of shields used by soldiers in Paul’s day, and two different Greek words to describe each. Finally, we will look at how we can take up the shield of faith. Above all, taking the shield of faith with which you will be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked one.Īgain, like with the other pieces, let’s look at the picture Paul was using here and how the shield was used in his day by the Roman soldiers, then we will look at how Paul meant for us as Christians in spiritual warfare to use the shield. Today, in Ephesians 6:16, we are going to look at the Shield of Faith.Įphesians 6:16. This fourth piece is what gave them confidence in God and gave them certainty of victory-even in the face of overwhelming odds. Caleb walked by faith, in the strength of his God.Īnd as we turn to Ephesians 6 today to study the fourth piece of spiritual armor, we will see that it is similar to what Joshua and Caleb had. And even though he was now 80 years old, because God was on his side, Caleb was victorious. In fact, it was the very same “giants in the land” that had so scared the ten spies 40 years earlier that Caleb went to battle with. 14:7), knew that if God was on his side, he could not be beat.Īnd so when the tribes entered into the land, Caleb went to battle some of the fiercest and strongest opponents there were (Josh 14:12). After the forty years of wandering were complete, we read about how Joshua was chosen to be he leader of Israel as they entered into the land, and that Caleb, though he was now 80 years old (Josh. Joshua and Caleb trusted in God that He would be their shield if they followed Him, but the rest of the nation did not have faith, and so they perished in the wilderness.īut Joshua and Caleb were the only ones of that whole generation to survive and to receive their inheritance in the Promised Land. That is what always happens when we do not trust in God. It was only an eleven day journey from Sinai to Canaan, but because of their lack of faith, that eleven day journey turned into forty years of agony and death in the wilderness. If they had followed God into the promised land, they would not have had to spend 40 years wandering in the wilderness. They knew that all they had to do was follow God, and He would protect them and provide for them. Joshua and Caleb knew that the Lord would go before them as their shield and as their strength. Only do not rebel against the Lord, nor fear the people of the land, for they are our bread the protection has departed from them, and the Lord is with us. They said in Numbers 14, “If the Lord delights in us, then He will bring us into this land and give it to us, a land which flows with milk and honey. Two of them, Joshua and Caleb, knowing and remembering that God had provided for them and protected them time and time again, trusted that God would do the same thing for them here. In the book of Numbers, there is the famous story of the twelve spies who went in to spy on Canaan, and after spending 40 days looking around, they came back and said that while the land was good and rich, there were giants in the land, and the Israelites would get killed and enslaved by them if they went in to attack.

[starryevermore]

How does Reader react when the soccer moms start dissing Ari? I feel she is so protective

meeting adjourned

let’s ride ✧ a biker!ari levinson series | ao3

pairing: biker!ari levinson x single mom!reader

word count: 1,017

warnings: council of moms being bitches about ari, pet names (sweetpea/baby/pretty boy)

note: ooh okay, so we'll see this happen in at least one of the chapters of let's ride that have yet to be released, but it's definitely something that keeps happening. so, for this, this takes place after ari and sweetpea get together, specifically after they get engaged.

The Council of Moms made you want to bash your head in a fucking wall. They were so picky about every. single. thing. You often wondered if they were ever happy, why they were leading the lives they were if it made them so miserable. Well, actually, no, you knew of at least one thing that made them happy: Bringing misery to other people.

The new soccer season had just begun, and you were having to subject yourself to time with them once more. At least this time, though, you wouldn't have to fend for yourself when Jefferson wasn't around. Ari had committed himself to come to every practice with you, unless circumstances absolutely forced him to be elsewhere. But, for now, you were by yourself. The coach had yet to arrive, and Liam had pulled Ari away to play with while they waited.

So, you stood off to the side, watching them, praying that the Council of Moms wouldn't notice you.

Luck wasn't on your side.

"Oh. My. God," Charissa said in what could only be described as the most perfect Janice from Friends impression you've ever heard in your entire life. "Is that what I think it is?"

For a moment, you didn't think she was talking to you. After all, why would she be? The moms had practically left you alone since Liam's birthday all those months ago. So, why would she be talking to you now?

But then, someone was grabbing at your hand. You jumped back, wrenching your hand away. "The hell do you think you're doing?"

"I just wanted to look at your ring," Charissa said, rolling her eyes.

"And you couldn't have asked?" you asked. "Guess that's where your kid gets his bad attitude from."

Sherri jumped in, stepping in front of Charissa. "So, what's that ring for?"

"It's on my left ring finger. Take a guess."

Sheana's eyes went wide. "No way. You didn't get engaged!"

And you had. It was the sweetest thing. Ari had surprised you on your anniversary. He’d taken you out to the park, under a pretty gazebo you and him would always danced under. He’d brought you there blindfolded, and when he removed it, he revealed Liam waiting for you. And Ari had knelt in front of Liam, asking him if it was okay that he asked you to marry him, that he didn't want to do anything that would've hurt Liam's feelings. And Liam, sweet Liam said he’d been waiting for this. Ari barely had time to double check before Liam was hugging him, saying that he would absolutely love it if Ari married you. Then, when Liam pulled away, Ari got on one knee, presented you with a pretty ring in a pretty velvet box, and asked you the one question you'd been dying to hear.

"I did."

"To Ari?" Phyllis said. "Hmph. It's not a great ring, but I suppose it's the best he could do. But as long as it makes you happy—"

"You're not really in the position to be judging people's jewelry."

"I'm just saying—"

"I don't care. We're not friends. And, even if we were, there's some shit you should keep your mouth shut about."

Silence lulled over them, and for a fleeting moment, you thought they'd leave you alone. Until—

"Ugh, you could do so much better than...him" Terra said, her nose wrinkling as she looked over to Ari who was kicking a soccer ball back and forth with Liam as they waited for the coach to arrive so practice could begin.

"Are you fucking serious?"

"You shouldn't swear around—"

"I don't give a shit. Are you really talking shit about Ari? When everyone knows that your husband's sleeping with his secretary?" you asked. "Sweep your own fucking porch before you start talking about other's."

"He's just so—"

"Oh my god, I don't care what you think about Ari! You've made it perfectly fucking clear you don't like him! But guess what? You're not the one dating him! And I'm fucking glad you're not. He is the sweetest man I have ever met. He is kind, he is caring. He helps take of Liam, treats him like Liam's his own flesh and blood. He's sweet and devoting and makes me feel like a goddamn princess. And all of that is better than anything you deserve, you fucking witch!"

"I don't treat you like a princess."

You whipped around, seeing Ari standing behind you. "What?"

"I treat you like a queen." He looked over to the Council of Moms. "And I ain't gonna stand for anyone tryin' to make my queen feel like shit. You'll go on and bother someone else, before we have an issue. Right?"

They all looked like they wanted to push further, but the longer Ari glared at them, the faster they were to back away. When they were finally gone, you wound your arms around Ari's waist, burying your face in his chest.

"Thank god you showed up when you did. I was gonna fuckin' claw their eyes out or something."

He laughed. "Not gonna lie, sweetpea, I'd pay good money to see that."

"I just hate the way they talk about you. They got no right to. They don't even know you, don't even try to know you."

"And I don't want 'em to. If they're gonna act like that, they don't get to be anywhere close to my good side."

"Cause your good side's reserved for me, ain't it?"

"Damn right it is."

You pulled away, leaning up to brush your lips against his. "I love you so much, baby."

"And I love you, sweetpea," he mumbled against your lips. "Can't fuckin' way for you to be Mrs. Levinson. Can't wait for our family to be official."

"I'm so glad I met you. I dunno what I'd do without you."

"You don't know what you'd...Sweetpea, I know I'd be a goddamn mess without you. If anyone's lucky, it's me. And I'm gonna spend every day of the rest of my life showin' you just how much I love you."

"Yeah? That a promise?"

"You know it is."

"Hmm, then I suppose you better get busy, pretty boy."

[shushiyuii]

Here is a writing request! I hope you have fun with it! You can put noms in if you want to! :D : Giant warden hybrid Wilbur lives very deep underground and is very lonely. He meets a lost avian hybrid named Phil and decides to help him out of the cave system. When they get out Wilbur is sad that Phil has to go. Phil then decides its time to adopt another child and brings Wil with him home to a surprised Techno and Tommy.

AAAAAA I LOVE THIS SO MUCH! THANK YOU ANON! I DID HAVE A LOT OF FUN WITH IT and may also have gone a bit crazy with it? lol

(I didn't include Nom's in this story but if you ever wish for a part two with noms or anything i'd be more than happy too!)

Warnings: Injury, (Maybe some heavy subjects such as a child being lonely)

Words: 2.6K+

He doesn’t remember his younger days; he honestly couldn’t be sure who he was or how he even came into existence. One thing for sure was sounds, the tapping of a spider’s legs, creepers occasional hissing, skeleton’s bones rattling and a zombie’s growls.

It was always so dark, he’d seen the light of lava, sometimes even the light of day but the sky was always so high, so out of reach. And he couldn’t quite fit into the cave systems to find a way, so he was stuck.

He’s alone, he hates it. It’s too dark.

…

Phil flew high above the clouds in laughter, it’d been a while since he’d gone out on an adventure. Well, if you counted a much-needed mining trip of coal, iron, and such. But it was nice to be out of the house for once, especially with the kids out of the way.

Not in a bad sense though, he loved his kids but sometimes things were so busy he couldn’t keep track of things. Raising a toddler and a somewhat crazy child is well chaotic.

His two kids, Techno and Tommy. Techno had been adopted by Phil a bit early on, when Phil first met his now-wife, Kristin. He found Techno on the streets of a village, trying to fend off bandits. Phil’s fatherly instincts kicked in, a thing he’d always had and couldn’t help but take the boy in. Much to his reluctance.

Techno grew up with Phil and is now a very healthy and happy 11-year-old, and then there’s Tommy. The most recent member of the family, his little bundle of joy of about 3 years old, Techno found it odd being an older brother, he still does but he copes.

The feeling of his feathers swaying, his hair blowing, him having to attempt to keep his hat on every second, he missed this feeling. He was glad he just managed to find a babysitter since their mother was currently out on ‘business terms’.

…

The vibrant blue sky, below the loving shades of green passing with every flap of his wings. He wondered if his wife was watching over him, with her being a god and all.

He was happy how life was currently going as of late, he only hoped that fate had a good future ahead of him.

He shook himself out of his thoughts as he finally arrived at the destination. He had been well prepared for this trip; it was a mine that he’d been wanting to adventure for ever so long. He could tell there was something about it, something special.

And judging by the vibrant minerals just shining from the sunlight of the entrance, something told him there was more than just iron and coal in this cave, perhaps something more valuable, diamonds.

…

He wasn’t sure how long it’d been, but it had been a long time, he had quite a bit of iron, coal. But not only that gold and emeralds, a valuable currency. He wouldn’t have to worry about mining with the number of minerals he now had. Not only that but diamonds could be used to create powerful weapons.

He knew Techno would be happy, he’d always loved shiny things. Probably due to his Piglin features. And he could make Kristin some beautiful jewellery. It made him happy to say that his family was going to be good for a good while.

…

He picked up different noises, it was odd to hear such things. He could hear strange padding noises, perhaps some creature moving? Not only that but he heard the breaking of stone, which was a rare sound in his caves.

It was somewhat crazy to think something else could be coming closer to him, to hurt him. He knew he was strong not he didn’t even know If he was as strong as the outside monsters.

He wasn’t sure how he came to be in this world, he was always so alone. But sometimes the vines would speak to him, telling him of things like a place called the surface, which was colourful and bright.

…

The breaking of stone could be heard again, it only got louder and louder every minute. Whatever was making those sounds had found him and was coming for him. His antennae twitched anxiously; he was scared he didn’t want to die.

His claws bared as he readied his sharp teeth, he scanned for wherever the sound was coming from and waited to attack.

…

He panted as he broke at the stone, it’d been a while since he’d done so much mining, he was much out of shape. He had no idea where he currently was, he was long lost in this cave with no way of finding his way back. Despite the torches, he had no lead to where he came.

He was now trying to mine into the walls, hoping to find another branch of the cave that would finally lead him to a way to the surface. After the struggles of breaking through the wall for however long, he finally found another branch of the cave.

Big mistake as the first step he took into this cave, there was a loud crashing sound. Something had tried to hurt him, and he barely dodged it, the ceiling of the cave barely supported the impact, rubble falling from the ceiling.

He readied his sword for battle as he ran to behind a rock for cover. Something that caused that impact was definitely big, like strangely big. Not only that but the cave was one of the darkest caves he’d ever seen, the only light being from his torch.

He had no idea of where if he was honest, he couldn’t even tell if he was hiding properly. Anything could creep upon him at the current moment, it was oddly quiet, the only sound being his heartbeat.

…

He heard a strange growl behind him, it scared him with how deep and shallow it sounded, definitely a monster. Hesitantly he turned to the right, and right there was the monster staring right at him. But the monster flinched back when Phil turned around, the bright light in the monster’s face.

It seemed to hurt its eyes as he held his eyes and stumbled back in pain, from what he saw he saw about four eyes, antennae, and dark greenish-blue skin, with some light green bioluminescence that reacted to light. It appeared to be a Warden, a creature Phil had read about.

A creature of great mystery, one that mostly relied on sound, one that could communicate with plants. It was an odd creature, but the thing is about this Warden. It had a set of hair, not only that but it looked a lot more humanoid than what he’d seen drawn of the creatures.

It looked rather young too… No! No fatherly instincts! Monster?...

…

He winced in pain and stepped back from the strange being, he hadn’t seen light in quite some time. This thing was nothing like he’d ever before. He had never seen such a strange light. It hurt. This thing was strong if the creature had that then it could definitely kill him.

It came prepared.

“Hello?” it spoke. His eyes dilated as he scanned for the light, he saw it move around. He could see the creature’s confused features. It seemed almost scared itself, not only that but concerned. Something he wasn’t quite familiar with.

He was surprised by the fact that he could understand the creature, it was an oddly familiar language. “Hello?”, he replied with hesitance. He was scared that the monster’s features would change, and the creature would attack him.

“Oh! You talk? Good, because I think there’s been a bit of a misunderstanding!”. The creature made a strange sound, but seemed relieved and happy? Laughter?

“Sorry about the light, I didn’t realise it’d hurt you, my name is Phil. How about you?”

“What’s a name?”

“Oh? You don’t have one, well I guess a way to describe it would be a sort of title, something people can call you to identify you from others!”.

“… I don’t have one?”.

…

The creature- Phil had come closer, more friendly than before. No weapons, a smile. The once bright light is now dim, more adjustable.

“Well, if you don’t have a name. How about we give you one?”.

“Okay…”.

“Hmm… You look like a.. A Wilbur!”.

“Wilbur?”.

“That’s your name! Wilbur! Do you like it”.

“It sounds nice. I like it!”.

A name? It sounded nice, it made him feel unique, different from others…

…

“Well, Wilbur. Do you think you could help me?”, “How?”. “Well, you see I’m kind of stuck here. I don’t know my way out.”.

“Where do you want to go?”, “The surface.”.

…

“The surface?”, “Yeah! I need to get home!”. “Home?”, “Yeah, it’s where I live with my family!”, “Family?”, “A group of people who are very important to me, I have to get home or my sons, I don’t know what will happen.”, “Okay. I’ll help.”.

Wilbur lent his hand, confused Phil just stared at it. But Wilbur just ended up scooping up Phil and standing up, wandering through the caves.

“So, you live in these caves?”, “Mhm”, “Aren’t you lonely?”, “… Yeah…”.

“How old are you?”, “I don’t know, they say I’m a youngling…”.

…

Phil’s fatherly instincts kicked in, a kid on his own in a fucking cave system? No fucking way. He had no choice; his mind was already made up. This kid was now his, he now wanted nothing more than to smother this boy in the love he never had, care for Wilbur. Like how he met Techno.

The two ventured the caves for a while, surprisingly no mobs. The two at this point had spoken for a while and gotten to know each other a small bit, Wilbur seemed fairly interested in his family too! So, it made him happy to think that he’d achieved a new son!

But he spoke a little too soon, a loud bang frightened Wilbur. Wilbur jumped back and dropped Phil from a height. Phil landed with an oof and looked back at Wilbur who was now crouching in fear, immediately he ran over to comfort the boy despite his aching leg.

“Hey, hey. Wil, it’s alright, it was just a creeper.”. He ran his hand over the boy’s own hand, “I-I, it was loud...”, “I know, I know. But it’s okay! It’s not gonna hurt you anymore mate! I’ll protect you!”.

…

He released his hold on his eyes and looked down to Phil… Protect? As in guard him? Phil’s eyes were enough to reassure him, it brought him comfort despite the small time of knowing him, he’d never known such a kind person before.

He picked up on a sound, the tugging of string. Phil didn’t seem to hear it as he was concentrating on him. He looked back to see a skeleton aiming an arrow at Phil. Scared, he quickly brought Phil to his chest as the skeleton shot the arrow.

Phil screamed but immediately calmed as he heard the arrow hit the ground, realizing that Wilbur had only been protecting him. He smiled and looked back furiously at the skeleton.

He reached for his sword and despite his aching leg, wiggled out of Wilbur’s hold and sliced the skeleton in half, its remains turning to dust and bones. He looked back to Wilbur, “You okay, mate?”.

“I’m fine! How about you? You’re walking differently.”. “Ah, I’m fine mate. My leg just hurts a bit!”. “Hurts? As in pain?”, “Yeah? Wh-“.

Phil was cut off when Wilbur brought him back to his chest, standing up and continuing their adventure to the surface. Being sure Phil was secure in his hold, not wanting to bring any more pain to this man.

…

A bright light could be seen in the distance, “Hey Wil! I think that’s the surface!”. Wilbur looked over in the direction of the light, he winced slightly but his eyes adjusted as he made way to the light.

Once they were outside, Phil took a good breath of fresh air. Wilbur copied, confused as to why and surprised with how fresh the air felt in his lungs. It was refreshing.

“Wil! We’re outside! Thank you so much!”

“It’s nothing but…”

“Hmm, what’s wrong?”.

“Where do I go now?...”

“We can go to my place if you want, you can meet Tommy and stuff.”.

“Really?”.

“Of course, Wilbur!”.

Phil then flew upwards and directed Wilbur to follow him, along the way Wilbur would get distracted by the views and greenery. Phil was more than happy to wait for the boy.

Now that he thought about it, he had a clearer view of Wilbur, who was definitely a lot more humanoid than he first thought, perhaps he was a hybrid of sorts? Only time could tell.

But at the break of dawn, Phil arrived home as was greeted by a worried Technoblade running towards him, a Tommy trying to follow behind him, wanting his father’s hold.

“Techno! Tommy! Are you guys okay?”. “Dad! Where have you been?”.

The worried words of his son and the rambling of his toddler were enough to make him scoop them up in his arms and cover them in kisses. Which seemed to cheer the two up.

But all hell broke loose when Techno stared up at Wilbur, he stood in front of Phil to protect him. “Who are you?!”, “Techno! Calm down! This is Wilbur! Your brother!”, “Brother?! Really Dad?!”, “Yes really”.

…

Despite the reluctance, Techno grew used to his new sibling, so did Tommy who seemed to really like Wilbur. Not only that but Kristin was more than happy to have Wilbur adopted into the family, and that’s how Wilbur joined the family.

… Bonus …

“Bitch!”

“Oi, don’t use those words, Tommy!”.

Tommy was now about 5 years old, a very clingy 5-year-old. One who never left Wilbur alone, not that Wilbur hated it, he loved his younger brother a lot. It was just sometimes he could be quite annoying.

“Wilby! I want cuddles!”. His antennae twitched as he closed his four eyes, pinching his nose to be as dramatic as possible and let out a long sigh, “Finee!” he dragged out. Tommy’s excitement as he ran to grab blankets was more than enough to make him smile.

Wilbur sat down against the wall as Tommy dragged pillows and blankets against the floor, the things being double his height and dragging behind him. Then made his way to throw the pillows at him and attempting to climb onto his lap.

He failed multiple times, “Wil! Help me!”. Finally with the help of Wilbur’s claw he adjusted and cuddled within Wilbur’s hold.

“Tell me that story again!”, “The one about the civilization and the brothers?”, “Yeah!”.

Wilbur laughed, “Okay!”.

Within 5 minutes of the story, Tommy had fallen asleep, so Wilbur changed to a simple lullaby whilst playing with his baby brothers’ hair. Something precious, something he’d always protect.

“Got room for one more?”, Techno stood there in his crowned PJs, who seemed barely functioning, his blanket and pillow dragging behind him. Usually, he’d never do such a day but today seemed to be an exception. “Of course Tech!”.

The three then fell asleep together.

…

“Awwhh! Look at them Phil!”, Kristin whispered as she peered into the room of her son���s bedroom. Phil giggled, “I know! I’m glad I have such a good family”.

Within the palm of her hand, he laid. Thankfully for them, Kristin was a giant, so the house was already pretty adaptable for Wilbur. She placed a kiss on his forehead. “Love you, hun!”, “Love you too!”.

[ktheist]

1 | play me like a toy [m]

title inspired by blackpink’s sure thing cover.

⟶ read the last part, all yours to enjoy, here.

muses. mafia heiress!reader x ex-mafia!director!hoseok

genre. age gap factor. chaebol-mafia family au. arranged marriage au. office au. modern au.

words. 5.8k

warnings. contains smut. mentions of gun use. mentions of cheating.

verse. knj. ksj. myg. kth. pjm. jjk. jhs. 

synopsis. 

sit still, look pretty. 

such were the words your maid-turned-mistress of a mother has ever taught you. the mindless marionette mask worked for the most parts. but when you find yourself hanging by a thread - or is it the beeping line of your dying father’s heart rate monitor? - you decide it’s time to shed off that mask and seek han group’s infamous loyal dog that went off radar 17 years ago.

jung hoseok.

alternatively;

“marry me or be killed.”

“is there a third option?”

“we fucked but you were too drunk to remember so that option’s invalid.”

x

jung hoseok is in a dry spell.

there was no doubt as to whether he could score a date, get laid and maybe even have his nightstand to call him up again exactly the week after.

the issue was time.

with his boss and longtime friend getting married, he ends up coming to work with a different pile of papers on his desk every day. well, it was his idea to sign a promissory note that if kim namjoon ever found a woman he loved and married, hoseok would take half of the ceo-ly workload so his overbearing boss could enjoy his honeymoon and truly, as hoseok would put it, live.

the order went a little differently but namjoon found a hole in the way the sentences were worded that got him flying away to the caribbean and leaving hoseok to fend for himself in these trying times.

oh, and it’s almost hit the third month of the newly weds going mia.

in the first place, he didn’t think namjoon would hold the agreement over his head like he was flexing a few hundred thousand dollar’s worth of lawsuit.

but the man did just that and now hoseok is slaving over his nine-to-five which actually tend to drag on till ten or, if he’s lucky, even midnight. sure, he got promoted from head secretary to director but he’s wondering if this endless cycle of coming back home only pass out in the bed and wake up earlier than a parent with a toddler - is worth it.

hoseok groans, his hand grabbing around for his phone to put a stop on that obnoxious alarm even if it’s just for five minutes before he has to hear it again.

and grab something he did, but this so called phone feels too soft to be a phone and shapes like an cup but softer and - he puts more pressure to his grasp out of confusion -

“mhm, what the hell?”

- it complains in a groggy voice too.

almost as if pricked by a needle, hoseok leaps right out of bed, sending the duvet flying to the floor and revealing the naked woman - you - who’s stretching her limbs whilst her face scrunches in displeasure at the rude awakening.

“__-___?! wh-what the- what are you doing in my bed?”

x

“so you touched my boob,” you say, legs crossed and arms folded over said boob.

“i-i-” it’s the first time you’ve ever seen hoseok opened his eyes so wide - he has pretty eyes. especially when they’re brimming with fear and bashfulness, “i’m sorry, i have no excuse.”

he hangs his head low.

“why didn’t you touch the other one?”

it’s then, when hoseok’s eyes snap up to you, gaze searching for a sign - any sign, to confirm that he misheard that, does the man realize that you’re messing with him.

that, and you doubling over with laughter trickling out of your mouth should be affirmation enough.

“god, you should’ve seen your face, hobi!” you’re still holding your stomach when hoseok’s shoulders stiffen and his round eyes turn sharp.

“that’s not something you joke about, ___,” he says, it’s easy to mistake his sternness with anger if you didn’t know him your whole life, “are you gonna let it go every time someone disrespects you? mr. han would’ve snapped their neck in half-”

“hoseok, come on,” you cut him off with a dismissive hand, “none of those gory talks about snapping necks and pulling out nails. that’s the reason i end up here in the first place.”

it’s the way silence lulls into the room and hoseok looks at you with the hardest knitted brows and eyes that seem to have retracted his soul far back into his memories, as though searching for something - that makes your heart drop.

all sense of humor now gone.

“you don’t remember what happened last night... do you?” the last part is just an addition to ease your throbbing heart.

if you’d left it as a statement, it made it more real that he did forget.

just a man, sitting at a half empty bar, three shots of vodka in and hostility in his voice that could’ve killed but so very hoseok of him, “that seat’s taken.”

aloof. distant. and every word in the book that described a man who didn’t want to be bothered and he drowned himself in alcohol.

“i’ll leave once the owner comes back,” you’d slipped into the seat anyway, despite the heat of hoseok’s stare.

not paying any heed, you ordered yourself a margarita.

“it’s been awhile, hasn’t it, hobi?”

that’s when he turned to you. truly looked at you.

“do you perhaps have a little sister who,” his eyebrows began to knit as if the screws in his head started turning, “would be about your age by now... ____?”

you didn’t really catch up. all you could remember was hoseok’s calculative stare as he watched you down one drink after the other. the the chilliness of the margarita somewhat soothing the burning sensation as it went down your throat.

“that’s the fifth for you,” his large hand covered yours, stopping you from picking up the glass as he cautioned you.

“yeah? i’m only stopping if i have something else to occupy my mouth with.”

in his distracted state as he tried to make sense of what your words meant, you lifted the glass to your mouth and downed the last of your drink.

and then, you stood up, walked the tiniest distance between your seat and his, grabbed him by the collar and crashed your lips on his.

you remembered your confidence dissipating like air with every second passing without hoseok so much as responding to your kiss.

maybe it was the shock.

because one that passed, you found his arm around your waist and his lips kissing you harder than you kissed him.

you stumbled into your car, not caring if yeojun had a front row view from the rearview mirror of the things that transpired at the back seat. you barely remember the walk from the parking lot to his apartment.

those sweet whispered promises. the hands that burned your skin with every touch. those eyes that pierced right into your eyes, as if invisible hands reached into your soul and grasped it in his palm.

“mine,” hoseok husked, voice sending ripples of pleasure dripping down your legs. he’d thrust himself balls deep inside you, like a beast who hadn’t had a drop of water since the drought, “you’re mine from head to toe.”

if that wasn’t enough, he fucked you raw until you were at your limit and he’d just... stop.

“hoseok, why-” you’d been breathless, skin glistening with sweat and knees trembling to give in but he’d banded an arm under your torso and held you to him so your bodies remained connected even if none of you moved.

“you think i’d just let you cum so easily?” he placed a hand on your ass, as if warning you what would happen if you’d pull away, “after all these years... you grew up fine as fuck.”

he’d languidly pulled out of you, as if knowing how torturous it felt for you with his fingers on your clit that sent electricity through your veins.

“what is it, hm? is it the kang’s or is it the seong’s? i guess the rumor about boss being hospitalized was true,” his words barely registered in your mind as his index finger touched your back and traced down your spine whilst he started thrusting in and out of you agonizingly slow.

“please, just fuck me,” you’d hissed, pain and pleasure and frustrations mixed in your voice.

“hm, still as tight-lipped as ever, huh?” he’d sounded completely relaxed as if the smacking sound that echoed in the air as his body slammed against your deliciously - didn’t affect him in the slightest.

as if he took no pleasure in fucking you. as if this was only for your poor little soul that came running back to him because you had no one to depend on.

“y-you have to- ah! s-swear your l-loyalty to- oh my god,” it was last night, while the citylights poured through hoseok’s window, his room was directly across another apartment building.

“loyalty, huh?” he tested the words on his mouth, as if it was a foreign candy gifted to him as present.

his body feels hot against your back as he lowered himself flush against you, his breath fanning your sweat-glistened skin, his voice brushing the shell of your ear, “you should know i’m yours as much as you’re mine. nothing i wouldn’t do for you, kiddo.”

he’d used that nickname he’d used to call you as he fucked you into his bed, and sent you moaning his name like you wouldn’t know any other name.

anyone could’ve seen.

neither of you cared though.

well-

you throw your gaze out at the twenty storey building, noticing a man vacuuming the living room three units to the left from the unit directly across from hoseok’s. above him, two kids, a boy and a girl are jumping around while holding an airplane in their hands.

-until now, that is.

hoseok had become an entirely different person last night. no - rather, he’d returned to you as the man you’d always kept in that special spot in your heart and locked it up so no one would be able to see past your steel schooled expression and the devil may care nature.

“i...”

your gaze snaps back to hoseok once again. he parts his lips for the briefest moment, as if to say something but clamps them shut again. the way his eyes gleam with guilt is enough to tell you the unspoken words that hang in the air.

and yet, your heart hardens like the steel mask you often wear on your face.

“and... to think i gave you my virginity too...”

the silence that lapses between you is tangible.

“sike, i’m kidding,” you grin, brows rising to the ceiling but when hoseok doesn’t so much as laugh or frown - he simply looked at you like a parent disappointed of his child who still didn’t see why what she did was wrong - you tilt your head to the side slightly, “or am i?”

“ugh, you’re no fun,” you throw your head back after failing to gouge a reaction from the man who screamed bloody murder as if you’re some street rat that he was so close to calling infestation control.

“i need to meet mr. han,” he announces after a whole solid minute of sitting on the edge of the bed with feet planted on the floor.

“what for? what are you gonna tell daddy? ‘i’m sorry i took your daughter’s virginity, sir, it won’t happen again?’“ you watch him get up, tongue unconsciously slipping out and sweeping over your bottom lip as you watch the curve of his ass as he walks to the closet and disappears into it.

“were you really a virgin?” he comes out dressed in fresh crisp button down tucked in a pair of black pants, a contrast to his rolled up sleeves, creased shirt and disheveled hair from last night.

“i don’t know, did it feel like i was?” you shoot him a coquettish smile.

the gentle protrusion of his adam’s apple bobs up and down, his lingering gaze on your crossed, bare legs not going unnoticed by you. you’re donned in last night’s dinner dress that hugs your curves and stops mid thighs.

but his gaze is gone too soon.

“you’re not seriously going to daddy, are you?” you tug on his sleeve just before he steps out of the door, “hobi, i’m just kidding, i’ve been with multiple guys before you,” the way his brows threaten to knit into a frown doesn’t go pass you but it’s gone too soon, “and does daddy like the idea? he’s not fond of it, but he knows he can’t stop me from doing whatever i want with my own body.”

the beep of the door as he opens it rings in the air as he looks at you in the eye, “did any of those men work for mr han?” 

only silence follows his reply as you bite your lower lip, hesitant.

“we can’t hide this- mr han might already know. he has eyes and ears-” hoseok steps out of the door only to stop dead in track when he sees at least half a dozen men lined up in front of his apartment in black suits.

“good morning, miss ____.” they bow at exactly 90 degrees angle like robots.

“-everywhere...” hoseok trails off, eyes scanning the area on high alert.

“don’t worry, they’re not daddy’s men. they’re my men,” you raise one hand, index finger pointing to the ceiling as you shoot them an expression void of any smile.

they seem to understand that as they dip into a bow again, the leader, yeojun, stops in front of the elevator when he and his men would have joined you in any other circumstances.

“it’s not about saving my own ass, ___,” hoseok begins.

the way his arms cross over his chest makes his sleeves wrap deliciously around his biceps.

his deep brown eyes appear like a hazel storm under the sunlight that pours from every crevice of the parking lot where the elevator stopped at. “mr. han asked me to protect you from everything and i’m sure he hired someone else after i left to keep trash men away from you... and to think i did exactly what he wanted me to protected you from-” 

“hobi,” nimble hands hover over his chest before you gaze up at him through your lashes, making sure to give it a slow, innocent blink before speaking, “i didn’t regret what happened last night. and you trying to apologize for someone i’m not sorry kind of hurts.”

“i’m sorry i didn’t think of it that way...” he trails off, lips pressed in a straight line as though deep in thought.

“if it makes you that uncomfortable, i won’t talk about it but promise me this stays between us, please?” you hold up a pinky finger like you would when you were younger.

the smile that makes its way to hoseok lips causes your heart to palpitate just when it’s barely calmed down.

his pinky finger is much larger than yours as it hooks around yours in a promise, a ghost of a smile tugging on his lips. as if he’s still unsure if he should be making any promises. as if he’s unsure if he should be hooking his pinky with yours instead of pushing you as far away from him as he could. but before he can come to a conclusion, a voice reverberates into the air.

“miss ____.”

the sound of hoseok sucking in a sharp breath rings in your ear as a dozen men in black suits bow at the sight of you.

before another word comes out from anyone else, you speak, voice echoing against the walls.

“listen up you sons of bitches, if i find out any of you snitched to daddy, i’ll make sure your wife, your husband, your kids, your grandparents, hell even your neighbors pay for it. got it?”

a round of rigorous “yes, miss!” follows after the splitting silence that hovered after you finished.

turning around, almost getting lost in those pretty, star entrapped eyes of his, you smile, “see, they’re loyal to me.”

“uh, i can see why.” it’s the humorous tone that finally wraps around hoseok’s words that makes your heart clench painfully.

he’s still the same hoseok you know.

some things never change.

“well, i’ll lend you one of my cars,” you say all of a sudden.

almost as if hit by a foul ball, hoseok’s eyes widen, “shi- what time is it?”

you don’t expect much when you check your phone, the digits on the screen staring back with a 9-something am - you don’t care to check the details, “late.”

“fuck, i was so focused on gathering enough balls to meet mr. han - i need to get the papers i was supposed to look over for today’s meeting,” a string of curses follow hoseok’s scampering retreat. and you simply watch in your spot - he’s always been such a klutz, forgetting the important details and scrambling to get what he’d forgotten and just remembered - done.

before the doors of the elevator close and swallow him in its belly, hoseok’s nimble fingers slip between the shutting gap, making the doors split open again, “oh,” he says, as if remembering something, “you don’t have to do that - i can drive, i got a driver’s license like, eons ago.”

right.

when he left, he was only 18 and had nothing more but a duffle bag filled with all his belongings and an acceptance letter of the university he applied to.

hoseok had been driving you around everywhere before that. he got pulled over by a cop once but your father easily handled that.

jung hoseok’s been with you for as long as you remember.

you recall bawling your eyes out and clinging onto his leg, begging him not to leave because your nanny left and you found out a few months later that her body was found washed up along the river bank near her hometown.

mr. kim, the gardener quit and said he wanted to visit his kids but the whole family ended up dying in a fire.

everyone who left ends up dead.

pushing the somber feeling that’s threatening to pull the muscles in your face into a frown, you shake your head, an amused smirk tugging on your lips as you mask away every other feeling.

“you really don’t remember anything, do you?” somewhere in that innocently clueless gaze of his, you search for a lie - it would’ve been better if he lied about forgetting for whatever reason.

but when the genuinity over pours from those pretty eyes, you push away the gnawing feeling in your heart, “we were both shit faced drunk last night so we came to your place with my driver and you left your car at the bar’s parking lot.”

“oh shit,” he begins punching the button on the inside of the elevator, “i won’t take long, i pro-”

the metal doors gradually shut, cutting off what he was about to say.

x

“p-please, i’m sorry, i’ll do anything...” the man’s words got blurred out as you stare out the window of his medium sized flat with a master bedroom, a room and a bathroom connected to the common area.

it’s been a week since you met hoseok. you want to be mad that he doesn’t call, especially after not seeing each other for so long and finally reuniting only for him to forget everything about that night.

but you didn’t even give him your number and you may or may not be mad that he didn’t think to ask.

a bloodcurdling scream drums against your eardrums, making you physically flinch as your head snaps towards the man lying on the ground with his mouth wide open and no longer any sound coming out.

his head is titled at the new guy who’s standing over him with a baton gripped in one hand. the sight itself makes the pit of your stomach churn.

“god fucking damn it, yeojun,” you shoot a glare at the head bodyguard, “didn’t you teach him rule number 1? make no sound, catch no attention?”

at that, yeojun snaps his fingers and two of the bodyguards closest to the new guy - soon? soobin? was his name? - approach him. one of them places a firm hand on his shoulder whilst he kicks soobin behind his knee, sending him kneeling with a thud.

“i’m sorry, miss ___, it seems soobin,” ah so you did get his name right, “needs to join mr. yoo here in learning a thing or two about obeying orders.”

yeojun doesn’t even flinch when one of your donned-in-black bodyguard strikes one of their own at the back of his head with that baton they usually carry around their waist.

soobin’s face scrunches up painfully as he breathes out through his nose, teeth gritting together.

“you boys, break some things and you, get the car ready,” with that, the bodyguards hovering over the middle-aged borrower and soobin begin scampering around, toppling shelves over, pushing vases to the ground and breaking plates in the kitchen.

“you were too nice,” yeojun murmurs underneath his breath once you’re in the hallway, the sound of glass shattering and furniture breaking still echo off the walls.

“i shouldn’t even be doing this shit anyway. who does he think i am? sending me to take care of small fries...” agitated, you shoot yeojun a glare.

to which he only responds with raised eyebrows, as if asking if you’d go against your brother’s orders just because you’ve never liked to see violence yet violence follows you everywhere.

“let’s see.... richest bachelor, heir to han group, one of the biggest conglomerate family that runs the underground ring...” the black haired man starts counting off with his finger until you swing your purse to his side.

“which side are you on? me or my chanyeol’s?!”

laughter trickles down his lips as he follows you into the elevator. somewhere in the distance, the hallway faintly rings with the fading sound of mr. yoo’s helpless pleas.

x

when you arrive at kimcorp, the secretary shoots up from your seat, her smile is gorgeous and welcoming but the knitted set of brows above her eyes do a poor job of hiding her anxiousness.

odd.

you didn’t use the han name to get past the receptionist, only mentioning “hoseok is expecting me, tell him i have something of his he’d really like back.”

was it the lavish dinner dress? was it the couture handbag?

“ah, it’s the fox fur, isn’t it?” you twirl on your heels, lips curling prettily as you narrow your eyes at the startled secretary.

she’s standing there like a thief caught red-handed. as if her worst nightmares came true the moment you started saying something besides the “i’m here to see jung hoseok.”

“i-i’m sorry, ma’am?” her shoulders tense up and her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“nothing, it’s nothing,” you put on a billion dollar smile - one that she seems to be struggling to wear.

before the poor thing peed her pants, you turn around, your back on her and push on the double doors of the office with a white plate that spells out “head director jung.”

the syllables of your name roll off the mouth of the man behind the large desk that almost takes up half of the room, piles of documents stacked up on either sides while the middle section is cleared for a mac and a macbook perched directly in front of him.

“you sound surprised, didn’t the receptionist tell you i was coming?” you put on your best smile even as you watch him push a button on a smaller-than-a-palm-sized remote directed at the cctv and dash for the blinds and close them so that the secretaries facing his room won’t have any visual access to what goes on from now on.

“yeji didn’t specify who,” he says mindlessly, still peeking through the blinds - possibly to check if anyone noticed the sudden move.

somehow, hearing the name of another woman leaving hoseok’s lips doesn’t sit right with you.

“since you easily told her to send me right up, i assume you have an idea of who it was,” a devious smile tugs in the corners of your lips as the sound of hoseok sucking in a sharp breath brushes your ears.

as he was in the middle of turning around and facing you, you managed to catch him off guard and trap him between the window and yourself. the ridges of his toned abs brushing against your front torso with only layers of clothing separating you.

the warning tone he uses to say your name with is music to your ears.

he sounded like the old him. the old hoseok who’d drive his fist into anyone’s face without batting an eye. the old hoseok who would turn to your crying frame with the sweetest smile and hand you back your backpack that fell on the ground amidst the struggle of trying to bite and kick your kidnappers in the shin.

“i missed you, you know?” your voice is tinged with playfulness but your heart skips a beat like a schoolgirl with a crush.

“i-i... we...”

the words get stuck in his throat the moment your lips brush his. what surprises you is the softest sigh that leaves his mouth before a large hand buries itself in your hair, pulling you close until he’s tasting you. licking your bottom lip as if asking for something he didn’t need to ask for in the first place.

his free hand grasps your ass as if he’s been dying to feel your soft cheeks in his palm. you part your lips for him, tasting the faintest sense of cigarette in his breath.

hoseok tends to smoke when something bothers.

you hope it’s you. you hope he lays in bed at night, staring at the ceiling. you hope you’re all he thinks about.

by the time you pull apart, you’re both heaving for air. a soft thud drums in your ears as hoseok leans his head against the blinds-covered-window. you press your cheek against his chest, face hot.

one of his hands sits on top of your ass as if paying his overdue respect for your body but yet unwilling to let you go. the other rests on the back of your head, his thumb mindlessly caressing your scalp.

“hoseok?” you’re the first to break the silence.

he simply hums in response, “hm?”

“i can’t give it back,” you turn your cheek to bury your face in his chest, your voice coming out muffled, “i can’t give back your freedom.”

x

“so you’re saying you can’t let me go...” hoseok echoes the words you say to him.

but the way his lips curl into a pleased smirk and his white shirt creasing at the front from having your bodies pressed together a moment ago, gives those words a different meaning than you intend them to.

somehow, the distance between you seems smaller.

“thanks miyeon,” hoseok’s smile switches to that of a kind, considerate superior.

miyeon, the woman who guided you to hoseok’s office returns his smile. but you don’t miss the cautious gaze she throws your way before slipping out of the room after setting down the tea cups.

he’s back to himself. the kind that jumps at every little sound and tends to wear a frightened puppy look almost too often.

“no, rather...” you trail off, chanyeol’s face burning at the back of your mind - your brother, the heir to han group and the man that will marry you off to the kang’s in order to mend the strain in the family ties as soon as your father breathes out his last breath.

you shake your head, a smile on your face, “it’s been awhile, how bout catching up over lunch?”

and so it goes, you visit hoseok every few days in a week. at times you tell the secretary to keep your visit a secret so you could surprise him, you’d end up catching him neck deep in work yet he still manages to pull off the rolled up sleeves, two buttons undone and slicked back hair with a single strand falling over his forehead, its tip grazing those set of strong eyebrows.

when you knock, he looks up and the tension in his brows seem to fade away. he shoots you a dimpled smile as if he’s been waiting for you to whisk him away from work.

and you do just that. arm looped around his, you both walk out of his office like lovers.

hoseok talks about his past - the one you’re not part of - fondly. as if looking through a lense of something he never dreamed he could have.

at first, he attracted the wrong kind of crowd with his permanently set furrowed brows. but then he finds things he enjoys doing outside of classes that he couldn’t get to enjoy when he was with han group.

dancing, tracks, boxing and more. he likes that rush of adrenaline that courses through his veins. 

and you tell him about the meetings and gatherings and social events to maintain your relationships with the vassal families. they’re usually attended by the women of the han family which means you and han chohee would be smiling and laughing together in front of the wives and daughters of the vassal families before taking off that loving step-mother-and-step-daughter facade once you walk out of the vicinity.

your lunches and dinners are spent with trips down memory lane, filling the other in on the moments each of you miss in each other’s lives. and for a moment, the hoseok in front of you who flinches at the sight of bugs and little, random noises feel familiar.

that is, until you hit your one month reunion mark.

chanyeol’s been gathering support of the vassals by personally accepting their invitations.

his presence easily overshadowed yours and yeojun confirmed that your father’s condition isn’t getting any better.

“i need you to come back and work for me, half of the men would drop everything and follow you,” you stare at the girl staring back at you on the surface of the tea. she bites her lips and you feel the faintest taste of blood in your mouth.

eyes snapping to his calculative ones - as if he already knows what you’re going to say before the words even pass your lips, “i need you by my side so i can take over han group.”

the hoseok sitting in the single couch next to you with parted legs and feet planted on the dark carpeted ground fits the head director setting better than the inked skin, cigarette smoke and gun-in-waistline setting you’re about to drag him in.

“you’re willing to go against chanyeol to become the head of the family?” he asks, eyes clouded with a sort of emotion you can’t pinpoint.

hoseok’s always been an enigma. his mind, a maze you’ll never end up figuring out.

guess that part of him is still the same.

“it’s not a choice for me to make,” a clean click! resonates in the air as you place the gun you’d pulled from your garter, point facing him, index finger on the trigger, “you have two though.”

it’s the way his eyebrows rise whilst his eyes glint with amusement tells you that hoseok - your hoseok - is still somewhere in there.

throw a sane man into an asylum and he’ll start going insane. put a mad man  back in society and he’ll trick you into believing he’s sane with his warm, dimpled smile.

“marry me or be killed,” you say simply.

that amused glint is still there, granted, it shines faintly compared to the caution that overflows from those sun-hit brown eyes as they fix themselves on the gun perched on the see-through coffee table before they travel to your knuckles, to your arm and meet your steel gaze.

his the softest protrusion of his adam’s apple drops and rises again as he swallows, “is there a third option?”

“we fucked but you were too drunk to remember so that option’s invalid.”

the air is dense with tension. it fills up your lungs and almost causes your chest to cave. you’re not sure how long to stay there, stiff and still like a rock with your back straightened as if your etiquette teacher was hovering right behind you with a long, wooden ruler that’d be ready to strike your arm at a slump of your shoulders.

but liberation comes to you in the form of a phone call.

“___, we have to go, th-the boss- the doctor says he’s not gonna make it through the night.” it’s the first time you’ve heard yeojun stammer as if he hasn’t quite yet recovered from the shock of the news he’s relaying to you.

“are you sure?” you can almost hear the thump of the organ in your chest slowing down before it ceases to throb completely, “you know how bad chanyeol wanna fuck me up, he could’ve made the doctor tell you this because he knows you’ll tell me and if... if i rush there and daddy’s laughing that obnoxious laugh while trying to make pass on the nurse like he usually does...”

yeojun grunts, “yes, ___. i have men planted there as patients, nurses, janitors and they all say the same thing - that the doctors are rushing to the vip ward and they’re trying to make it look like your usual hourly check up but it’s not... look, this is the real thing. if we mess up, there won’t be another chance. now, did you convince hoseok to come back?”

almost as if reminded that you’re not the only person in the room, your eyes snap to hoseok whose eyes are already fixed on you with a concerned expression.

“he’ll come back.” with that, you hang up the call.

“i’d love for you to think it through for a few days, realize this isn’t really a life you want and come to me on your own to sign our prenups,” you say casually, placing down the teacup and slipping your phone back into your handbag as if you’re getting ready to leave the tea party, “but...”

but before you can lift the gun and fully point it at him, a large hand covers yours. his warmth seeps through your pores and makes your body feel warmer.

“the gun’s a bit excessive,” his breath fans your face as your eyes fix on the supple skin of his neck.

it’s as if invisible hands reached out and held your head in place, forbidding you from tilting it and gazing into his eyes. his fingers reach over the back of the gun, grazing your hands.

a click cuts through the silence.

“at the very least, unlock the safety,” his teasing tone doesn’t match his saddened eyes.

and just as you thought you’d closed the distance between you and him, the circumstance forces you to take five steps back.

[lady-elora]

"It was love", or five reasons and five refutations of hatred for sylki

So, folks, I did it. I finally translated from Russian an amazing article about the romantic line in “Loki”. I agree with every word in it. Hope it’ll help all the sylki shipers to fend off the attacks of antis with a reasoned arguments.

Would you like to talk about our god Odin the most controversial Marvel franchise pairing which caused a storm of indignation and negative emotions on the part of fans?

 We're talking about Loki/Sylvie from "Loki" (2021) mini-series, or sylki (lovie) as they were called by fans. Apparently a simple get-pairing consisting of a man and a woman (or bisexual gender fluids, if you prefer), but some people were shocked by such a relationship on the screen. Why? What for? How? That may be your questions. So we’ll discuss their claims and groundlessness of them in this article.

But before we start talking about it, I want to clarify what actually the concept of the "selfcest" is.

Usually we marked as a "selfcest" those works that describe the relationship of a character with himself. Most often, this warning implies a "doubling" of the character; alternatively – the same character is taken at different ages or falls for his/her absolutely identical copies.

Agreed?

Let's go then.

< < < 1 > > >

 The first and main thing which follows from the definition above is: "Showing the selfcest on the screen is disgusting and immoral!"

 It also follows from the definition above that the selfcest is the relationship of the same character with himself in the form of identical copies both in character and appearance. The highest form of narcissism, according to Mobius (which, in fact, is to some extent true). Horrors from a snuffbox, according to some impressionable audience. It hardly makes sense to rant about the fact that masturbation is also a form of selfcest (although the fact is rather amusing).

 The bottom line is that if Loki once again created a copy of himself to deceive someone and fell in love with it, it would be a selfcest. Splitting himself into two people and building a relationship between them is a selfcest as well. Turning into a hermaphrodite and ... no, this is something completely perverted.

 The basis of the selfcest is absolute identity. If we take a character who is so in love with him/herself that he/she sees relationships only with him/herself, then in such a case he/she can only build them with a perfect scanned copy of him/herself. It will be very easy for the person who knows him/herself inside and out to notice some inconsistencies in a partner, and then it makes no sense to build a relationship if he/she is not as perfect (as the "original" is), isn’t it? That’s how this logic works.

 And now attention, please!

 Is the romance of two Elvis Presley understudies a selfcest?

They look almost the same, both like Elvis... But no, right? These two people are different people, with different tempers and lives, who are similar only in appearance and pseudonyms. So this is a very ordinary relationship.

Now let's get back to our sheep. So we have two people from different worlds, with different stories, different tempers, different powers and different external signs who were born under the same name and later lived their lives with different ones. The only thing that is identical in them is the essence of the God of Mischief. So where is the ground for an egoistic selfcest? Nowhere.

Don't forget about identity. We can say that they are very similar, since initially they are both Lokis. But do you wanna say it's so hard to meet similar people in real life? No. Do you wanna say it's hard to meet similar people in two similar universes? No. I'll tell you a secret: writers often like to use the trope of intertwining almost identical tempers between characters to show their mental connection. And it's not a crime, but a common technique. And, again, a "similarity" doesn't fall under the criteria of selfcest.

 And finally, if Sylvie were an exact copy of Loki, would there be people who love one but can't stand the other? It's the same character after all, so what's the problem? But the point is that Loki is Loki. And Sylvie is Sylvie. They exist separately from each other and are not the same due to the presence of distinctive features.

 If you want to use Kang's words, remember that he admired these two.

 < < < 2 > > >

 The second and no less amusing is "Loki doesn't need a love interest at all!"

 I'm sorry, but which Loki?

 The one who appeared in all the films of the series "Thor" and "The Avengers"?

 He's dead, guys.

 And Loki from the series is a character torn out from the finale of the first "Avengers" and revamped by TVA with the help of an impromptu session of psychologist Mobius and viewing on-screen all of his promising deeds. This Loki was told head-on that he was created as a minor character in order to plot his machinations for the development of the protagonists and he was unnecessary to the whole world. This Loki has an advantage over the previously known version of himself just in knowing this fact. This Loki has recognized for everyone and for himself that he didn't want to harm the others. And this Loki, by definition, is already a different character, but for some reason people tailor him to a long-familiar one, ignoring the obvious things point-blank.

 He is no stranger to simple human feelings, because every version of the God of Mischief is initially an offended and despised child grown up in the shadow of his own brother, a child who just wanted to be loved too and in the same way. Only the paths to this under-goal were different for all Lokis. One killed Thor in order to remain the only ruler (people always adore kings), another invented unthinkable feats (people love heroes), the third built a perfect world out of promises for everyone, the fourth tried to become a hero himself, but was too crushed to find mistakes in his plan, the fifth excluded himself from the equation so that everyone understood he didn't want to harm the others and to cause the pain.

Loki from the series is a version that knows everything about himself, but at the same time is not bound by the framework of the other variants' plot. He doesn't need to win back Asgard, to fight with Thanos, with the Avengers, with contempt and so on. He is free from borders. He is from the world where Frigga never died. He is the only Loki without the "glorious purpose". He is different.

So his attitude to other people is now different as well. It's stupid to perceive this version exactly as a long-known character.

After all he had seen, this Loki would hardly be able to live alone like any other. He is extremely naked and needs love (in any form), as the most reliable and not bringing destruction and suffering point of support.

 < < < 3 > > >

 The third and my favorite thing is: "Love in five minutes! Why did it come out at all?"

Why did Loki fall for Sylvie, and even in a couple of days?

OK, you can quite easily explain Sylvie's motivation: she found a person who had interest for her, who suddenly cared about her, protected her... Could he be an unworthy party in such a case? Moreover, before that, Sylvie, in principle, had no close people and she internally really lacked such an attitude to herself, banal love (parents, people, friends, romantic), which she hadn’t due to the lack of normal childhood and a stable life.

But Loki?..

But Loki is not a vain killing machine from The Avengers anymore, not a person for whom the self-affirmation is the only goal in life. Let's rewind a little, and remember that he was brainwashed in TVA and lowered from heaven to earth. Loki was always reasonable. Loki could always be courteous and friendly. Loki was always a gentleman. And finally he realized that there's no sense in all this aggression and hyperbolized narcissism, and he pushed his one-actor theater aside in order to at least normally rethink the concept of time and reality.

 And here comes Sylvie.

Unpredictable, dangerous, painfully similar to him, but at the same time completely different. Loki never had good intentions in his conquests; only the ways were sometimes good. Sylvie went to the good liberation of people and the return of their right to choose their lives, but through blood. In fact, she is his mirror image.

She intrigued. A wild person who swung at the destruction of the time control organization alone and coped well with it.

However, the countdown started from the moment when they both got on the train. The moment when Loki began to understand what the real essence of Sylvie was. Grown up in fear, distrustful, broken Sylvie, who was desperately trying to make TVA pay for everything. For everyone. And it was amazing for him.

Here, as for me, the Moffat's quote about his BBC Sherlock fits very well: ..when he saw her, he thought: "Maybe there can be someone like me?" – but with a slight nuance that Loki himself would like to be someone like that. Like a fighter in spite of and for the good, causing admiration. With some corrections in the form of the absence of a painful childhood, despair and anger.

Then the spring of "Loki's MeUs" begins to unwind, and the essence of it is that he understands her and her feelings, because, although they are different people, they are internally similar. Loki looks at her as if she is a person he has known for a very long time, but not completely. It's like if you met an old childhood friend seven years later: it seems to be the same, but also it seems to be different. It seems that everything is elementary, but there's not enough of a certain number of details.

(He'll realize later that he was missing much more).

So we take the initial interest, add the conditional knowledge of a person, and we get a very specific variation of the trope "from friends to lovers".

This may seem far-fetched, but we have two factors on our hands that are fundamental for this trope. Keep them in your head, but for now, let's applaud the fact that Marvel for the first time figured out how to derive formulas for the logical development of relationships in the shortest possible time. In what way? In the most elementary way: through psychology.

There's such a thing as the stages of the formation of relationships, which includes:

- Falling in love (interest, flirting, rethinking)

- Trust (challenge, joint activity, mutual assistance)

- A sense of kinship (empathy, responsibility, confidence)

- A sense of unity

- Love

In our case, only the first three points are considered, but the third one is with a chip in the form of a final. I should also focus attention on the fact we are not considering love. We are considering a serious crush, which can develop into love, since the latter one is a slightly longer process that still has to go through to the end. And we consider them in extreme (+accelerated by our two fundamental factors) conditions, where our heroes are forced to work together and trust each other in order to survive.

After reviewing the aspects of the three points we have chosen, we can easily draw analogies with the events that happened with Loki and Sylvie.

They are interested in each other, they think that they know each other, they develop in relationships with each other in a completely healthy way. A little faster than in the series for a hundred episodes maybe, but it is conditioned.

Needless to say, this is impossible and illogical: we have the clearest example of love from nowhere in the form of a couple of Scott Lang and Hope Van Dyne, who had absolutely no prerequisites to it, but at the same time kissed at the end of the first film. Nothing personal, it's just a fact.

The relations of our "defendants" aren't based on carnal attraction, they didn't immediately break out ready-made due to a rush of adrenaline, they are not one-sided and not abusive. Loki and Sylvie carry about each other, support each other (if it doesn't seem so, then we'll also talk about Sylvie a little later, everything in its own time), plus sympathy and love based on the fact that a person is ready to fight with you and trust you, sounds very appropriate, doesn't it?

And yes, there are similar examples of "love in five minutes" in life, which I've also seen. This is real.

 < < < 4 > > >

 The fourth thing which also makes me roll my eyes is "Sylvie didn't need relationships at all and she didn't care about Loki."

So let's make a small lyrical digression and think about who Sylvie is.

The Goddess of Mischief? Yep, but far from Loki, which means there's no sense to adjust her to the same classic image. As a child, Sylvie was dragged out of her own world. As a child, Sylvie fled across the time with fear and horror from TVA. Sylvie hid all her conscious life and saw people dying around her over and over again. Sylvie knew that outside of the apocalypses millions are simply dying from the hands of TVA too. She was alone all the time, during all her life she developed anger and hatred for this organization, until revenge for herself and for others became the only meaning of her life.

And here comes Loki.

Another version of the God of Mischief, which forces her to rebuild the plan on the go, in order to still bring it to the end. Frivolous, broken, stucked up Loki. He lazily, automatically puts sticks in her wheels. And then, on Lamentis, he suddenly decides to fight with her and help. After that, he completely trusts her with his life and cares about her own. And it seems to her like some kind of nonsense, like another trick, an invention for personal gain. Sylvie understands the essence of Loki, but she can't perceive him the way he perceives her. She sees in him what she could have become without the intervention of TVA.

But after that rush through the city, after realizing the hopelessness of the situation, when he says he is sorry and he thinks she is amazing, something clicks in her head. No one has ever cared about her (in this regard, she is not like Loki, who had at least Frigga), and now Loki, who knows her only from the archives and her meager life-story, who dragged her into the apocalypse, but also tried his best to help her to get out, just says that he is fascinated.

Sylvie grew up with her own concept of truth and lies: for her, there's only her truth and the eternal deception from the others. And then she thinks: may it be that..?

The thoughts that no one on the entire Timeline needs her, and that she should have recognized the lie, are marinating in her head to the end. Loki is not like the people she has spent her whole life with (he looks more like her, understands more or tries to understand at least; he believes), Loki behaves strangely and worries about her. Sylvie can't believe it (her past affects her completely), but subconsciously she wants someone to really care about her.

And she starts taking care of Loki in return. She comes closer and closer, but at the same time she is ready to turn around and rush back at any moment. Because she's scared. Sophia Di Martino says that for Sylvie, feelings are something new, unknown, and such things always cause fear in people. She tries to deny it, to be ironic, she's waiting for a trick, but doesn't move away.

She's just thinking: "Come on. Betray me. Betray me so that I'll be right again and trust no one anymore."

But Loki doesn't betray her. On the contrary: he recognizes that he cares of her, he tries to protect her with all his might. And that's the moment when Sylvie finally falls in love. That's why she pushes him through the portal to TVA which – the Multiverse is being formed, yay – is the safest place at the time.

Why didn't she give up on killing Kang? Because that was her glorious purpose. Sylvie lived with the revenge and the dream of saving everyone from the dictator and she just couldn't give up all this after the horrors that she experienced in her life. Blood, death and fear – that's what she saw during all these years. But Loki didn't see that so he couldn't understand. That's why Sylvie didn't listen to him.

And if she didn't care about Loki, if she didn't feel anything at all, Sylvie would have killed him the moment her sword was at his neck. She'd killed before – it wouldn't be a problem. But she does care of Loki.

 < < < 5 > > >

 The fifth and final thing is "These relationships hinder the development of both characters!"

And that's the funniest claim from those who watched the series with their eyes closed.

During the series, Sylvie and Loki are revealed from new sides thanks to their feelings. Caring for others, compassion, responsibility, the very fact of showing love for another person – all this develops them both. The friendship was shown through Mobius. The family has always been represented by Thor, Odin and Frigga. But showrunners wanted to reveal Loki from all sides, decompose him into components and show what he is from the inside in all aspects. And they did it.

Loki, who doesn't care about the fate of the Universe, and who only wants to regain world domination again, turns into a hero who wants to save the whole world. And one more person.

With Sylvie, it's a little more difficult, due to the fact that her life was also more difficult. Her case is more lost. However, in the end we see that such a long-awaited retribution doesn't bring her satisfaction. Because she understands the wrongness of this act, she regrets it and realizes that everything was wrong. But she realizes it too late.

If we had cut Loki out of her life, Sylvie would have killed the Keeper without any guilt, without feeling remorse, because she wouldn't have known that everything could be different, that she might choose another way.

This is what is called character development.

Sophia says both Loki and Sylvie feel the same, they grow together, but at different rates. And by the end of the series, Sylvie is approximately where Loki was after a psychotherapy session with Mobius. But not at the very beginning – that's what's important.

I hope this article has at least a little explained the whole essence of sylki pairing, because surely I'm not Tom and Sophia, who know their characters best. However, trying is something, isn't it?

Thanks for attention ;)

Source:  «Это была любовь», или пять причин и пять опровержений ненависти к Sylki

[parkersbliss]

Together | Minho

pairing: minho x female reader

warnings: swearing? violence?

wc; idk like 1.6k??

summary: kicked out of the maze, only to run into the people that did it to you in what should be the safe haven. how ironic.

a/n: bruh it’s been so long I don’t even remember how to type me thing up there ^

request by: @elizabeth-brown

—

Hate is a strong word.

That’s why it was so perfect to describe how you felt about them.

You hated them, all of them. It was their fault you were cast out, left alone to fend for yourself. It was because of their actions you were taken, tortured, and then escaped only to be met with nothing.

Trauma doesn’t just disappear, and forgiveness doesn’t just happen.

...

“What does it say?” Newt asked, pushing his way to the front and grabbing the note from one of the other Glader’s. His eyes skim over the paper, mouth parting slightly before crumbling it back up and shoving it in his pocket.

“Newt?” You questioned with furrowed brows.

He coughs, extending a hand to the greenie, “welcome to the glade.”

“Are we just going to ignore the note?” Gally asked arms crossed over his chest.

Newt glares at him, “yeah, we are mate.”

Gally scoffs, “We’re a team here. I think we deserve to know what the note says.”

The other gladers nod in agreement, crossing their arms as they stare expectantly at Newt, you included.

“It said if we sacrificed (Y/N), they would let us out,” The glader who first had the note blurted.

Newt slaps him upside the head, giving him a stern look as murmurs pass through the crowd.

Of all the things to be written on a note, it was that. All eyes are on you, suffocating you with their stare and whispers. It was only a matter of time, wasn’t it?

“Who’s (Y/N)?” The greenie asked, eyes blown wide as he realizes he was trapped in here. “Please, I want to go home.”

Alby drags a hand down his face, “Keepers and (Y/N), meeting hut, now.”

The gladers watch as you all disappeared, their gaze burning holes in your back until Minho slams the door shut.

“Well?” Gally starts.

“We’re not sacrificing her,” Minho said firmly. “Are we supposed to suddenly trust them?”

Winston purses his lips, “They do supply us with food and what we need to live. We don’t exactly have a reason to not trust them.”

Newt rolls his eyes, “How about the walls they trapped us in?”

“We don’t have to be trapped if we let her go,” Billy said softly.

“You want to risk that?”

“Yeah, maybe. It’s not fair to us if we don’t try.”

“How many more people have to die before we’re free?” Zart questioned.

Alby exhales, “we’ll take a vote.”

The minute the note was read aloud, you knew your fate. It wasn’t something that had to be thought about much. Was it fair? No, but it’s not like you got a say in this anyway.

“All in favor, raise your hand.”

The only people without their hands raised are Frypan, Minho, and Newt.

“Then it’s settled.”

“This isn’t fair,” You protest. “What if they’re lying?”

“And what if they’re not?” Billy retorts.

Gally seizes you roughly by the arm, throwing you in the dungeons until dusk.

…

“You’re alive?” Minho asked, still reeling in shock. He couldn’t quite wrap his head around it yet. The morning after you had been thrown into the maze he went after you. He ran the entire thing until the cycle was complete.

He never found you or anything that even convinced him you had been there. It was almost like you just vanished.

But everyone knows when someone just vanishes, it means they were dead.

So he came to terms with that fact. He accepted it and tried to move on.

It was harder than he expected. After all, people only realize the truth when someone is gone. It’s not until someone is dead that people begin to care.

Miss you when you’re gone, didn’t care when you were there.

Cruel place, isn’t it?

“I am,” You said bitterly. You quickly notice that the group you had been in the maze with was reduced to almost nothing. More specifically, the people that had voted you out were gone. At least, you presumed that.

“Who’s that?” You asked, pointing to the brunette who had not been part of your original group. Two other girls flanking his side, it burned you from the inside out. Had they been part of the maze? They probably weren’t kicked out like you were.

He shuffles awkwardly on his feet, “I’m Thomas.”

“He’s the reason we got out,” Newt explained. “I don’t think we’d be anywhere without him.”

“But what about you?” Minho asked, “How are you alive?”

...

The night was cold. You had been too afraid to even move from your spot in the vines. You can hear them, the creaking and whining as they stomp past. God, you wished you never had to experience this.

You wouldn’t even wish this upon the people that cast you. Actually, you just might. You keep yourself awake, digging your nails in your palm every time your eyes get heavy.

Survival means staying awake, just a few more hours.

A few more hours…

And then you woke up in a lab, and that’s when things got worse. Being someone’s lab rat was certainly not ideal. You sat in your room all day, with nothing but a bed until they took you away, running all sorts of tests.

At first, it was painful, but then you just felt numb. Some people tried to fight it, but you’d just relax and let them do whatever it is they’re doing. You figured that’s why they tested you so much; you were the calmest.

There wasn’t a point to fighting it; there wasn’t a point too much now. Every day was the same, and although sometimes you missed the runner with a bit of sass, you endured this.

You didn’t know why, but there was a bit of hope. It was quickly diminishing but it was still there, a small flame that maybe you’d see him again; that you might escape.

And that day came. After what must have been a year of all this testing, WICKED had lightened up on you. They gave you full freedom, no longer locking you in your room.

But they made the mistake of keeping a door open, a door to the outside. You didn’t think; you just ran.

You ran until your legs gave out, and you were gasping for air.

You had escaped.

…

“I could ask you the same thing,” You said bitterly.

The people before you had voted for you to stay, and you should forgive them, but you don’t. They didn’t do anything to save you, to stop the others from throwing you in the maze. They stood by, and they watched.

They watched as you begged and pleaded for your life.

“I’m sorry,” Minho said, reaching out to you, but you back away.

“Sorry? You’re sorry?” You laughed, “Sorry doesn’t make up for being tortured by them, by having to survive on my own, to fight for my life because of a stupid note. Tell me, did they keep to their promise?”

Newt hesitates, “no.”

“That’s what I thought,” You spat. “Look, I’m glad you’re alive, but don’t come here thinking we can all be friends. You go your way, and I’ll go mine.”

They watch you leave, Minho biting his lip as he watches you walk away from him again. He can’t lose you, not when you never really left.

Minho chases after you, grabbing your wrist. “Please, hear us out. Our story isn’t that different from yours.”

“I bet her’s is, I bet she didn’t get kicked out of the maze,” You said, motioning toward the other girl and shrugging Minho off.

“We fought the grievers,” Fry said suddenly. “All of us and we were taken by WICKED.”

“And they told us it was safe, but it wasn’t,” Minho chimed in. "They tested us, some more than others, but we escaped.”

“Don’t forget how Thomas threw a gun at the guard,” Fry added.

Newt shakes his head, chuckling. “or how Minho totally kneed one!”

“Right that, and we escaped into the scorch. We lost Winston to a group of cranks, we found the city, and then Thomas was drugged at a party.”

“We took a guy hostage.”

“Grabbed his car.”

“And now we’re here.”

“Oh and Gally died, Minho shot him.”

“You what?”

Minho rubs the back of his neck, “it was bound to happen eventually, he killed Chuck, but you didn’t know him. And he was gonna kill Thomas. He also… killed you, in a way.”

The boys smile sheepishly, “look you don’t have to forgive us, not right now, but (Y/N) we’re here.”

Minho nods, grabbing your hand and you let him this time, but not without a warning glance.

“You went through a lot more than we did, but we’d like to take down WICKED together.”

“Together?”

“Together.”

— END —

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

Master Fu: Master of Failure (200 Follower Special)

Mentors are some of the most important characters in all of pop culture, as they help the protagonist advance in his journey while helping them improve in skill and personal growth. Because of their vital role, mentors tend to be among some of the most memorable characters in their respective franchises.

Mentors can be a variety of people, from wise sages, to former soldiers, to just regular people with a strong moral compass. What matters is the impact they have on the hero, and the role they play in the story.

Master Fu does a poor job at accomplishing both of those qualifications.

Like, well, basically every bad thing in Miraculous Ladybug, the ideas behind Master Fu were interesting in concept. The problem was the execution, or rather, what little we got with Master Fu. Yet he still manages to be memorable (no pun intended) for all the wrong ways. But before we get into Master Fu, let's get into a problem with Miraculous Ladybug in general that plagues several characters and plotlines.

Order of the... What Exactly?

Despite being “the last known member of the Order of the Guardians”, Master Fu hasn't really explained much about the Order he's from. All we really know is that he was trained to guard the Miraculous and distribute them to worthy people. And the Order does this... why exactly?

This is a huge problem with Miraculous Ladybug, the underdeveloped lore behind a major part of the story. Despite being connected to the Miraculous, you know, the magical artifacts the show is named after, we still don't really know much about why they were formed in the first place, and what their connection to the Miraculous is.

Oh wait, the origin of the Miraculous actually is explained... in an issue of the tie-in comic.

Someone seriously thought it was a good idea to explain that Kwamis are connected to abstract concepts like creation and destruction, and how the Miraculous were created, both very important things to learn, AND THEY DID IT IN A GODDAMN TIE-IN COMIC THAT ONLY LASTED THREE ISSUES! 

I shouldn't be expected to read supplementary material to understand the backstory of a show. You don't need to watch Star Wars: The Clone Wars to understand the tragedy of Order 66, so why would you expect your audience to read a comic book to understand the origin of the magical objects that give your main characters superpowers?

Even the explanation we got isn't that detailed. Okay, fine some guy created the Miraculous to give the Kwamis tangibility (which actually explains how they can phase through solid objects), but... how and why? How was this sage able to see Tikki, how was he able to create the Miraculous, and why did he do it?

This extends to the Order of the Guardians as well. How and why were they formed? What exactly do they even do besides guard Miraculous? Why do they even guard the Miraculous in the first place? We even learn more about their methods, and trust me, I'll get to that later.

In Xiaolin Showdown, the pilot episode of all things explains why Shen Gong Wu are so important, and why the Xiaolin Dragons dedicate their lives to protecting them, because they maintain the balance between good and evil, and if they fall into the hands of evil, the world could fall into 10,000 years of darkness. Yeah, the first episode actually does a good job at explaining the backstory of the show, who would have thought? And it's from a show that has a better representation of Chinese culture when this is what the main character looks like.

Overall, the Order of the Guardians is an underdeveloped concept that does very little to help out Master Fu as a character. If the backstory of a character is so vague, how can we even understand the character's motivations in the first place? And by God, are Master Fu's motivations confusing.

Master of Not Doing Anything

Before I started working on this, I saw a video review of Miraculous Ladybug by someone who had never seen the show before, and only did so because one of his friends said they would start watching One Punch Man if he did. Even though he only mentioned Master Fu a few times, he described him as “a dude with a jewelry box full of superhero bling”, and felt like that was all those unfamiliar with the show needed to know. As someone who is familiar with the show? Yeah, that's basically all Master Fu is.

Despite being classified as a mentor, Master Fu doesn't really do a lot of mentoring. Sure, he occasionally talks to Marinette, but whenever things get rough, all he really does is hand out a Miraculous for Marinette to give to someone else temporarily.

And I've said it multiple times, but the Rent-A-Miraculous system is a horrible idea. Not only does it require Ladybug to basically leave Cat Noir to fend for himself while she rushes over to Master Fu, she has to think of an ideal candidate for the Miraculous she takes, find said candidate, rush back to where the Akuma is, hope Cat Noir wasn't incapacitated by the Akuma, and then haul ass to Master Fu's place to return the Miraculous as soon as the fight's over.

The idea of introducing new heroes is interesting, but because we see them so rarely, they don't really feel that important. I get that the title is “Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir”, but I just wish the show would do more with the temporary heroes, like see how it affects their lives. Unfortunately, I can't, thanks to “Miracle Queen”, as usual. I'll get to that episode again later on.

Even when Master Fu takes out the Miraculous, he doesn't really help Marinette think of which one to choose. He just says something like “Take a Miraculous, but be sure to return it to me when you're done.” It doesn't matter, because Marinette apparently knows how all fifteen Miraculous in the box work. Hey, wouldn't it have been nice to see Master Fu actually teach Marinette how every Miraculous works? Maybe have him suggest which Miraculous to take based on the Akuma's powers? I'm just saying, maybe you can take time away from Ladybug and Cat Noir fighting a giant baby to actually give more focus on other characters.

Before that, he was just planning to do nothing and hope Ladybug and Cat Noir could reclaim Hawkmoth's Miraculous for him. According to Tikki in “The Collector”, Marinette isn't even supposed to see the Guardian, and only met Master Fu because she found the Grimoire. So despite being “Guardians of the Miraculous”, he doesn't even help out the random people he decided to give Miraculous to? It's a miracle Ladybug and Cat Noir survived an entire season without any real guidance from Master Fu.

The third season tries to do something by having Master Fu train Marinette to become a guardian, but all of the training is entirely offscreen, and by “Feast”, he just says that her training is complete, and then makes her a guardian against her will in “Miracle Queen”.

Then there are moments unrelated to the Miraculous where he fails to actually be a mentor. Everyone knows about how stupid it was that the writers wanted the audience to sympathize with Adrien for threatening to quit being Cat Noir while Paris is flooded, but this also could have been a moment where Master Fu helped him talk about his feelings, or maybe dispense some wisdom about how hard it is to understand if someone actually trusts him or not. You know, act as a mentor to Adrien?

But instead, they brush over this potentially interesting character moment, because that would actually imply that Adrien has flaws. Because we all know Astruc loves to show the audience that Adrien Agreste is basically the second coming of Jesus Christ, right? And even though the episode making a big deal about Adrien not knowing Master Fu, they really don't have any meaningful conversations outside of that episode, except maybe “Party Crasher”. Though the episode does have Master Fu taking action when Ladybug is incapacitated by the Akuma by giving a Miraculous... to someone he barely knows swimming in Adrien's bathtub. Even he regrets his choice a few minutes later.

And then there's the fact that despite it being his job to guard the Miraculous, he does literally nothing to figure out where the Butterfly and Peacock Miraculous are. Sure, he briefly talked with Marinette about Gabriel possibly being Hawkmoth in “The Collector”, but she did most of the investigating in that episode.

Hell, “Sandboy” establishes there's a way to contact Nooroo, the Kwami of the Butterfly Miraculous, on his birthday, but Master Fu turned it down, so they did it behind his back! For the love of God, this is a chance to figure out who Hawkmoth is and bring the conflict with him to an end, and you're passing it up?! In “Heart Hunter”, Master Fu says that Hawkmoth “talks a lot, but hasn't achieved much so far”, but you could easily apply that to Master Fu himself.

Outside of giving Miraculous to Marinette to borrow, what has Master Fu actually accomplished in the story? Maybe his backstory will shed more light on him as a character, and won't just make him look even worse.

The Bungled Backstory

One of the most frustrating things about Master Fu's backstory is that it actually has some pretty good buildup.

In “The Collector” we learn that Master Fu made a mistake that led to the destruction of the temple the Guardians operated out of, and the Butterfly and Peacock Miraculous were lost in the process. This does a good job at setting up the mystery of what Master Fu did to destroy the temple in the first place. It continues in “Sandboy”, where Master Fu's worst nightmare is him heing haunted by the ghosts of the guardians he accidentally killed, and then we see in “Backwarder” that Master Fu had confidants to help him keep the Miraculous safe from what are assumed to be the Nazis. Because I guess guardians get to share their secrets, but not Ladybug and Cat Noir?

And then we learned the full backstory in “Feast”. Much like how “Oblivio” and “Cat Blanc” killed any chances of me ever showing any sympathy to Alya and Gabriel respectively, I lost all respect for Master Fu after watching this episode.

We learn that Fu was chosen to be a guardian at a very young age, and had no other choice but to start his training. One day, he was assigned to watch over A Miracle Box as a test for twenty-four hours without any food, water, or sleep. He decided to use the Peacock Miraculous to create a Sentimonster to get him some food, but his anger corrupted the Sentimonster that made it go on a rampage to eat the Miraculous in the temple... and somehow set the temple on fire judging from this shot.

In my main blog, I had originally made a post calling out Master Fu for what he did, but since then, I've mostly softened up. This is just a fan theory you are free do disagree with, but I like to think that Fu was supposed to use a Miraculous during the test. Maybe he was supposed to use the Mouse Miraculous to get some food while one of the clones sat and watched the box, or use the Horse Miraculous to sneak to the kitchen.

My problem comes from how his backstory affects his actions, and makes him look like a complete hypocrite.

Even though he hated the fact that he was basically drafted to become a guardian when he was only a child, he saw no problem handing out Miraculous to children who weren't that much older than he was when he burned down the temple. I don't even think he should even qualify as a master. His title shouldn't be “Master Fu”, but something more along the lines of “Acting Master Fu” on account of the other guardians burning to death.

Say what you will about Zordon for recruiting teenagers with attitude to become the Power Rangers, but what makes him more likable than Master Fu was that he actually cared about them. He routinely gave them advice, never really lost his patience with them, and understood they had lives outside of their jobs as Rangers. Hell, he was even willing to let them retire to peruse major opportunities in their lives, like Jason, Zack, Trini, and Kimberly, because he knows what it's like to be trapped in a situation that prevents him from living a normal life.

In fact, if Fu really hated being forced to become a guardian, why did he have no problem doing the same thing to Marinette? If anything, Fu should hate the Order of the Guardians, but it's never really explained what really motivated him to continue their practices.

Usually, a backstory related to a supporting character is meant to be followed up by the main characters doing something so history doesn't repeat itself. Anakin Skywalker was driven to the Dark Side because he was afraid of losing someone close to him, with the Jedi Order giving him no support due to their rules against personal attachments. This ideology is subverted in the original trilogy when it's Luke Skywalker's compassion for his father that motivated Anakin to rebel against the Emperor and fulfill his destiny as the chosen one.

But instead of learning from past events, or maybe realizing the Order of the Guardians was never as noble as we were led to assume it was, Master Fu just upholds their tradition of enlisting child soldiers to protect these world-ending artifacts while barely doing anything to help them out. And nobody ever acknowledges there might be anything wrong with the Order.

The Cowardly (and Hypocritical) Turtle

Despite being established to be 186 years old (which still hasn't been explained), and the destruction of the temple happening when he was a child, Master Fu hasn't really done anything with his position.

Despite having all the time in the world, as well as a Miraculous that lets him teleport anywhere, he still hasn't found the missing two Miraculous that Gabriel managed to find at least 129 years after he lost them, give or take.

There's also the fact that, at least, according to the flashback in “Backwarder”, Master Fu may or may not have chosen to sit down and let several historical atrocities and conflicts happen because he didn't want to risk losing the Miraculous. You know, minor things like the Taiping Rebellion, the Crimean War, World War I and II, the Rape of Nanking, the Cuban Missile Crisis, the Tienanmen Square Massacre and God knows what else. What did Master Fu even do while he ran around the world to keep the Miraculous safe anyway?

These both factor into the biggest problem with Master Fu as a character: He's a coward.

Whenever he's confronted with a tough situation, Master Fu's first instinct is to run away and hide. As soon as the Sentimonster that destroyed the temple returns, he takes back Marinette and Adrien's Miraculous and runs away. As soon as Hawkmoth finds out about his existence, he packs up his stuff and runs away. When he's captured by Hawkmoth and Mayura, he gives up his position as Guardian and forces Marinette to take on the role, so he can run away safely.

And once again, despite hating the Order for forcing him to train to become a Guardian, Master Fu has no problem with forcing Marinette, someone who was only a few years older than he was when he was drafted, to become the next Guardian of the Miraculous, all while conveniently losing his memory in the process, which implies that Marinette will lose her memory when she retires as Guardian. I once made a submission to Terrible Miraculous Ladybug AU's joking that he only made up the whole amnesia thing just to dump the responsibility of being Guardian on Marinette, but with his appearance in the Season 4 teaser, I'm genuinely worried that may be true.

And yet, despite every incompetent thing he's done, the show keeps trying to portray Master Fu as this wise old soul, because like with so many characters, the writers think if they keep saying things that aren't true, the audience will just give up and accept these ideas as fact. “Master Fu is a wise mentor”. “Alya is a good journalist”. “Ladybug and Cat Noir are equal”. “Chloe is irredeemable”. “Gabriel is a sympathetic villain”. “Lila is a good liar”. “Thomas Astruc responds to criticism like an adult”.

And I'm not against the idea of a flawed mentor either. I already talked about how complex Dr. K is as a character, and how her connection to Venjix makes her an interesting mentor. What I want is for the narrative to acknowledge that Master Fu is way out of his league. I want someone, anyone, to actually call him out for how poorly he's handled things. I don't want to be told he's a great mentor when the evidence clearly shows otherwise.

But it seems like we may never get that in the show, even though it looks like he's going to return in Season 4.

Let's just hope Master Su-Han is a better mentor, and actually appears in more than a single episode before being escorted off so Marinette can't have any confidants as Guardian. Who am I kidding? That's basically what's going to happen.

[akitokihojo]

Stay

Woah, two posts in one day? Yeah... yeeeeeeah. I don't usually post so late, but as I sat here staring at this document, I realized that if I don't post it now, I never will.

Okay, look, this story is extremely personal for me and I want to give a warning about that. If you know me or have been following me for a while, you may have noticed I tend to keep to myself, I'm quiet, and I'm private. But, as most humans, I have things I battle, too. I've been through things, too.

My coping mechanisms are humor and "add to cart." My therapy is writing. I decided to give this a shot. I've gotten personal with older fics before, but it's vague and I sort of lightly mix it in there like food seasonings. "Everything's Okay" and "A Moment" are examples of which. This story is largely based off something real. The emotion behind it is real. Very real.

Now, I will admit, the comfort added isn't. It's something I've realized over the past couple of years that I both crave and deserve. It's something that would help me incredibly, and maybe it's unrealistic, but that doesn't take away from the fact that I want it. So bad. So, I wrote. I made it happen.

I decided to project everything into my comfort otp, so if either Kagome or Inuyasha seem out of character, it's because they are. Sorry about that. It was difficult to keep their characteristics in tact. Particularly, Inuyasha. He's unbelievably soft here.

This is sloppy. I did my best to edit, but like I said, the longer I sat on it, the less likely it was bound to be posted. Just consider it unfiltered emotions if it seems messy, because that's what it's supposed to be.

Some disclaimers that I'll open up about: Yes, all of those negative things have been said to me by a past ex. What Kagome tells Inuyasha is very real for me. Also, replace "abusive father" with "abusive mother" and you've got it. :) I just didn't feel comfortable disrespecting mama higurashi with such slander, so since Kagome's father isn't in the picture, it was simpler.

Okay, I'm done. Thank you. If you read this, thank you. Again.

---

“Come on, Kagome. Show me.” Inuyasha encouraged supportively.

Kagome sighed, adjusting the shorts a bit better around her waist as she stared at herself in the mirror on the inside of the door. She’d comfortably tucked herself away in the walk-in closet of her boyfriend’s bedroom, preferring the space she had and the length of the mirror as opposed to the bathroom that only showed her up to her hips unless she bounced to her tippy toes.

“Houston, we have a problem.” She spoke.

“Define ‘problem.’” Inuyasha proposed. “Because, I realized a long time ago that you and I have two totally different definitions of the word.”

No, this was a definite problem. Unfortunately, it seemed she’d purchased clothing from one of the retailers that didn’t quite grasp that some woman had thicker asses and thighs. The shorts fit, but they hugged her in places she needed a little more room in. God forbid, she sit down. Then, they’d fit her like underwear.

The band was comfortable along her hips, but felt a little better if she pulled it up a smidge toward her waist. But then the underside of her booty cheeks popped out, and that for sure wasn’t something she could sport in public. Or, she could. She just wouldn’t be comfortable doing so. It wasn’t her style. She preferred a hint of more modesty. Not to mention, the shorts were very tight against her lady bits, and that was definitely something she didn’t want her clothing riding up on.

“Babe.”

“Curse these thighs.”

“Oh, see what I mean?” He chimed from the other side of the door. “That’s the exact opposite of a problem.”

“It’s a problem if the shorts don’t fit, Inuyasha.”

“Show me.”

“They don’t fit.”

“Okay, we’ll return them. But, show me first.”

“Why do you want to see them if they don’t fit?” She laughed lightly.

“Why wouldn’t I? Do I have to spell this out to you every time?” Inuyasha asked, making it obvious that he was feigning irritation.

“It doesn’t hurt.”

“Alright, first of all, I know you’re ridiculously critical of yourself. I have a more objective point of view, and therefore that makes my opinion the only valid one here.”

“Hey -“

“I’m not finished. Second, I love seeing you in tight clothing. That’s a given. You don’t have to keep it, and you should always wear things you’re comfortable in, but at least do the right thing and let me see first. I think I deserve that much. Third, and most importantly, ass and thighs. Your ass and thighs.” Inuyasha made a chef’s kiss motion even though she couldn’t see, losing himself in the thought of some of his favorite assets of hers. “You know damn well how much I love them. So, please - please - come out and show me, Kagome.”

Behind the door, she fought her smile, losing so quickly it was as if she hardly stood a chance against it. It wasn’t that she didn’t like her body, but he was right. There were some imperfections that had her self-conscious at times, and he knew without saying when they started dating over five months ago that her thighs were one of them. And, she could tell the half demon she called hers genuinely adored everything she deemed unworthy.

Giving a minor adjustment to make sure the area between her thighs had enough room to breathe, she sighed out any apprehension and opened the door. Inuyasha sat on the edge of the bed waiting, golden eyes instantly on her. He skimmed over the way she’d tucked her shirt into the underside of her bra to keep it out of the way, gazed at her tummy for a small moment, then drifted his sights down to the shorts hugging her snuggly.

He barely blinked, his expression practically blanking, and Kagome’s cheeks went red hot.

“Inuyasha?”

“Shh. I’m concentrating.”

Kagome laughed, turning away from him bashfully.

“Shit, no! I wasn’t ready for that!” He cried, pressing the heels of his hands into his temples as if he were in a panic. Her ass. It looked phenomenal. He wasn’t mentally prepared to see just how plump it looked in those bottoms, and it sent his mind reeling.

“What!?” She gasped, her hands instinctually falling to cover her butt as she spun back to face the way she’d originally been.

“Oh my god.” Inuyasha mewled. “Are you kidding me, Kagome!? Where’s the problem!? Where’s the mother fucking problem!? Because, I don’t see it!”

It was thought to be impossible, but she felt her face flush even hotter. So hot, she wanted to hide it, knowing full and well her embarrassment was visible and prominent. She kind of tucked her head down slightly, hoping the dim lighting in his room would be her ally and shade her blush while she presented her issues with the garment of clothing.

“Well, it’s tight on my thighs. See, when I do this -“ She explained as she lifted her leg slightly as if she was going to take a step forward. The bottom hem of her shorts tightened against her quad, squeezing around the plush before riding up an inch. “It’s not very comfortable. I like a bit of a looser fit. And, then my butt. It’s suffocating. I’m scared one wrong move will make these shorts rip.”

“God forbid.”

“Inuyasha, seriously.” She deadpanned.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m listening. Anything else?” He apologized with a grin, conceding.

“Yes. I can’t sit in these.”

“Why not?”

“Too tight.”

“So, you literally can’t sit?”

“No, I mean I’m sure I can. It’s just not a good idea.”

“Because, they’ll rip?”

“That. Or, they’ll turn into chonies.”

“What?”

“Underwear.”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware you got such versatile clothing. I could have sworn we were nowhere near the lingerie section.”

Kagome laughed through her groan, tossing her head back in minor exasperation due to her boyfriend’s sarcasm. It was going to be hard to describe, and she was sure if she attempted such he’d only throw more jokes her way, so she shut her mouth and decidedly took to demonstrating her vexation. She crossed the floor, hoped for the best, and plopped into a seat right next to Inuyasha. Her thighs fluffed out and her shorts effectively rode all the way up, giving her legs the attention they apparently demanded.

Inuyasha’s eyes were glued to her thighs and the way her clothing wrinkled along her anatomy. He’d had to press his lips into a tight line to prevent their proud and joyful crinkle, but it was so desperately difficult to fend off. Kagome was quick to notice and her brows pinched together, a small pout forming.

“You tricked me.” She murmured. “You wanted me to sit down, didn’t you?”

“I’ll admit, it was a lot easier than I expected it would be.” He said, gently stroking the pads of his fingers over the softness of her legs. “Again, I find it important to remind you that you and I clearly have very different definitions of what a problem is. This… this is not a problem. Not at all.”

“Well, see, I sort of wanted to be able to wear these outside of your apartment.” Kagome giggled, inadvertently melting into his touch. It was so light, it almost tickled, but she felt his warmth radiating from his hand, she felt his attraction, she felt his good-natured and honest feelings toward her body, and it was nothing short of what she both wanted and needed right now.

“I know, I know. We’ll return them and get a larger pair. Still, not a problem.” He grinned, planting his whole palm on her thigh and sliding it inward, shoving it to sit in the heat between. He leaned over and kissed her temple.

“Don’t even think about it.” Kagome hummed, leaning into his tender touch.

“Hm?”

“You’re about to lay down on my thighs, aren’t you?”

“What? I can’t?” The half demon pouted with legitimate shock on his brow.

“The moment you’re down, you’re down. You know damn well you’re not getting up if I let you, and I want to get out of these shorts.”

“But, Kagome -“

“Boy, if you knew exactly how these are constricting certain areas, you’d understand.” She laughed, playfully shoving his hand off of her as she stood. Before walking toward the closet where she’d left her skirt, she turned to face her boyfriend, bending at the waist and pushing his bangs from his forehead to plant a kiss against his skin. “I should get going soon, anyway. It’s getting late.”

“Don’t go, then.” He said, tone gruff as his amber eyes met hers. “Stay with me.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d asked her to stay the night, impromptu. Far from it. Every time, though, caused something in her chest to stir, something in her stomach to flutter, something in her bloodstream to effervesce in both a wonderful and unsettling way - the unsettling part deriding from a different emotion she’d recently noticed planting its roots somewhere inside of her. Inuyasha grabbed her hand, running his thumb over the tops of her fingers while his expression shifted to one of seriousness. No jokes, no funny business, no sarcasm was present any longer.

“I don’t feel like I got all the time I wanted with you. Since we were out and about most of the day, I feel like I had to share parts of you with the world, so now that it’s just you and I, I’m not quite ready to let you go. Will you stay?”

Internally, Kagome was telling herself to keep it together. It was such a small gesture, such a tiny request, but it was always the little things he said to her, like this, the mannerisms he displayed when he was sincere, the way his amber eyes met hers when he waited for her answer that had her feeling unstable. Like, she could cry. Like, she was more afraid than she was thirty seconds ago, or an hour ago, or when she saw his smile earlier this afternoon when they met up, or last night, or when she crashed and burned upon realizing what, exactly, it was she felt for Inuyasha a month ago. She swallowed, forcing herself to show none of that as she made a small smile appear on her face.

“Can I borrow a shirt to sleep in?”

A grin sprouted on Inuyasha’s lips as he kissed the hand he held, standing to cross over to his dresser.

“You want your favorite, or a different one?” He asked, ignoring the twitch his own sensitive ear gave as the wood scraped open.

“Whichever. Can I take a shower?”

“Of course.” He said in a manner that suggested she knew she didn’t have to ask by now. He was well-acquainted with her routine and how she preferred showers before bed as opposed to first thing in the morning. That, and they’d recently gotten her some extra toiletries to store in his bathroom for times she stayed over. He was equipped for her company, and sooner or later, Kagome was bound to learn that she was more than welcome to treat his place as her own. Her scent, her voice, her contagious laughter were all he needed, and if his apartment was filled with it, Inuyasha couldn’t think of anything that would make him happier.

Kagome took the large band tee the hanyou offered with a grateful smile and snagged some boxers from the top drawer he’d just opened with a playful, little scrunch of her nose before ambling over to the closet to pick up her skirt and reach for a towel on the shelf.

Why? Why was her heart thumping uncontrollably? She was so happy. So, so, so content. But, yet a crippling sensation was crawling its way up her esophagus to make home in her throat; to grow large, and dense, and sit there to make it impossible to swallow any longer. Ever since that night a month ago, when she’d hung up the phone after a goodnight call with Inuyasha - who was traveling at the time for work, was beyond tired, spoke to her in that husky tone she was utterly weak for, and who’d called out of mere courtesy to let her know he’d made it to his destination safely - she hadn’t been feeling secure. Not because of him. He hadn’t done anything wrong. In fact, despite their little, bickering spats and his tendency to get a bit jealous over guys she spoke to, he was doing everything right. He wasn’t the one giving her reason to fear. It was her.

It was what she’d been through.

It was something she was so terrified he would turn around and say to her, that it practically debilitated her rational mind.

But, still, the feeling it stemmed from grew and expanded, the tree roots burying themselves in the soil of her heart, and Kagome was positive by now, after thirty days had passed with no decrease but, instead, the exact opposite, that there was no convincing herself that it wasn’t there. Because, every time she saw him smile, every time he held her hand, every time he expressed himself to her, it banged on her walls like an innocent prisoner demanding freedom.

When she was sure her emotions weren’t superficial, when she was positive there was no changing anything on her end, Kagome had to really look within herself to figure out how to maneuver about things. Did she openly tell him? Was there a right time to say these things? She even debated never saying anything at all, and for a good while, she was settled on that option. It wasn’t the right thing to do, though. It was like she was allowing her past, her previous broken heart, to dictate how she expressed affection toward others, and the potential ‘others’ who hadn’t done her wrong didn’t deserve that. Kagome had always been the type to wear her rather large and vulnerable heart on her sleeve. The cage she held it in now, it wasn’t locked. She wanted to put it back where it belonged, but she was so scared, it made her nauseous. The cage door was opened, held cracked from the inside, the weary organ protecting itself behind a barrier that just needed some encouragement to come out from.

Again, she’d wondered to herself countless times: was there a right moment to say something like this? Was there a procedure she needed to follow? She’d said it first last time, and nothing ended in her favor, so maybe she shouldn’t be the one to initiate this topic? Maybe it applied too much pressure? Should she just keep it to herself behind lock and key? Was he going to be receptive? Was it going to scare him away? Please, don’t scare him away. Please, please don’t leave.

And, countless times, she ended up in tears from the crushing weight of it. Kagome knew the truth. She didn’t have to consult anyone to know what the right thing to do was. It didn’t matter how many nights she stared at the ceiling obsessing over right and wrong, this or that, pros and cons, yes and no’s, because in the back of her mind, the answer was right there in big, bold letters. She was just trying to dance around it. It was so stressful. Something that was depicted as a happy and liberating occurrence was reduced to horrifying and anxiety-inducing for her.

The fact of the matter was, no one should have the power to change her heart. More so, Kagome shouldn’t give anyone that power. The way she felt so deeply was, in fact, a good thing. It was. It was. It was a fight just to get herself to understand that again, feeling like she was convincing herself of something she no longer believed, but she knew the only way she would, once more, feel that freedom was to open up. Stop hiding.

The thought was heavy. It didn’t sit comfortably with her. There were certain things Kagome was okay talking about, and there were certain things Kagome would rather eat up, swallow, and take to the grave. But, that was vulnerability, and she understood that if anyone deserved that part of you, it was your partner. Inuyasha was her partner. He was patient. He listened to her about things that made her uneasy, he took into account how she could be both a social butterfly sometimes and introverted during others, how when she was overwhelmed she had a tendency to shut down, how physical touch was her love language, and he even went so far as to ask her how she would prefer he respond to certain predicaments if she were to ever get overstimulated with him around.

Inuyasha had proved time and time again that he not only wanted to experience every side of her, but that he deserved it. He deserved it.

It jostled her to the core as she considered telling him now, her stomach churning, her heart pounding erratically, her bottom lip quivering as she’d learned to expect rejection. It was why she struggled initiating anything. It was why she had trouble saying the words to anyone but herself, “I want.” It was a learned reaction to her past trauma, but Inuyasha, the half dog demon she called hers, the silver-haired man who always did everything he could to make her feel safe while with him, the person who treated her as special as he’d insisted she was, wasn’t the one who’d hurt her. So, she’d decided over a week ago, she was going to do it. She was going to do it and let him know. Best case scenario, it was always nice to hear you’re loved and he may end up appreciating her confession. Worst case, things were going to get awkward and tense and it may end their relationship for good.

Kagome wanted to be Kagome again. Not the person she was before she’d met her ex. Not exactly, at least. She still wanted the lessons she’d learned with him to be applied to who she was. They were valuable, and not everything she learned had her closing off. As an open-minded thinker, she realized that not every wound left a scar, so not everything that happened made her a victim. Some things are just incidents that taught her lessons to take into tomorrow. So, she wanted to return to Kagome, the bright girl who faced her fears, who wore her precious heart on her sleeve, her loved with everything she had no matter what, but who was just a few experiences wiser. But, no one could do that for her. No one could give her that push she needed. It all came from within.

Of course, so did fear. So did nausea. So did that anxious part of her brain that said, “Let’s do it tomorrow, instead. Or, the day after that.”

Kagome took a deep breath, trembling as it may have been, and looked over to her boyfriend. He’d just removed his shirt from over his head, his short, tousled, silver strands appearing slightly messier than before once he was free, and he glanced over his shoulder her way, most likely feeling her eyes on him.

“Inuyasha,” She tried to come off as stable as possible, but there was an obvious waver in her tone that gave her trepidation away.

“Hm?” He hummed, the corners of his lips twitching downward before he dropped his shirt on the floor and faced her better.

“Can I - um…” It was impossible to hold her eyes steady on him, her deep, brown gaze falling to the floor every time she picked them up to look at him. “I need to talk to you about something.”

“Okay. I’m all yours.”

Kagome took another breath, willing her body to stop fidgeting. It was Inuyasha. It was just Inuyasha. As soon as she realized there was no stilling her fingers beneath the clothes and towel she held, or the way she bit hard into the inside of her bottom lip, she felt the best course of action was to simply carry on; wavering eye contact, trembling fingers, quivering lips, and all.

“Let me first preface this with: please don’t say anything. Just let me get it out there. I don’t expect anything from you in return, there’s no pressure whatsoever, and I would rather you not say anything at all. Like, at all. Okay?”

Truthfully, Inuyasha was freaked out. Had something happened? Was she about to admit to something bad? Kagome looked about ready to breakdown and cry, and the fact that she was asking for him to remain completely silent only told him she was afraid of judgement. Never had she asked him to stay quiet before. And, he hated how apprehensive his girlfriend looked right now. His instinct was to solve the problem, so what was he supposed to do here but agree to her terms?

“What’s going on, Kagome?”

“Please?”

“Alright. I won’t talk. Now, spill.”

She pinched the back of her wrist to stay grounded, to keep from crying. God, she was so pathetically nervous, and three times now, she’d almost convinced herself to back out and pretend it was a joke. That wouldn’t be right, though. She wanted to cry so bad and she hadn’t even said anything yet, so she pinched herself harder, her nails incidentally digging in. As soon as she felt a degree of control fall back into her grasps, Kagome leveled her gaze at him.

The words sat on her tongue, weighted with the shackles she’d placed there herself. A lump had formed and solidified in her throat, clinging for dear life and making everything so much harder than it needed to be. God, she was really shaking. Her breathing was becoming unsteady as if she’d already started crying and she could feel her expression crinkling into something terribly sad. She knew that was how she appeared only from the way Inuyasha’s lips parted, how his brows curved in worry, how he wanted to reach for her but seemed so confused that he could only stand there and wait.

Like a bandaid. Once the words were out, it wouldn’t be so bad anymore. She just had to get through it.

“Um - I - I - I am -“ The stammering was relentless, and out of sheer obstinance, Kagome shied away for one moment, took a short breath, huffed it out, then faced him again. “I’m in love with you.”

There was a slight arch to his brow, and his chin inched to the side minutely. Very slowly, Inuyasha’s lips sealed and his gaze hardened, falling to the ground. Hastily, Kagome followed her confession with disclaimers, irrevocably panicking.

“A-and, I don’t expect you to say it back! You don’t have to say a word about it! There’s no pressure at all, Inuyasha! I swear!” With each statement, he seemed to be growing more and more tense, and Kagome was terrified she was only making matters worse, but she blinked profusely so her tears didn’t have the chance to breach the brim of her lids. “I just wanted you to know. So, yeah. Now you know.” Her voice had fallen to a hitch just above a whisper at that point, admonished.

Inuyasha kept his promise. He didn’t speak. Kagome was stiff in her spot, not quite knowing what move to make next. She hadn’t thought this far ahead. It was hard to think beyond her admittance in the first place. It was too quiet, and she could hear the clock in the living room loudly ticking seconds by.

“Just nod or shake your head; do you still want me to stay?” She asked sheepishly.

Finally, Inuyasha’s glowing stare rose to hers again, and it frighteningly seemed to grow harder, more tense. She saw the rigid muscles of his jaw clench, and his chest rose with the very slow inhale he took through his nose. Steadily, the hanyou responded with a firm nod. In the next moment, he gestured for her to head down the hall to the bathroom with a notch of his chin, which she wasted no time in complying to. Kagome bit her lip, hard, shakily turned on her heel, and left Inuyasha alone in the room.

The second he heard the bathroom door lock and the shower turn on, Inuyasha dropped his seat on the bed, crumbling forward as he braced his forehead in his hands, elbows jabbing into his thighs. His chest was physically aching, his throat tight, and Inuyasha felt thoroughly crushed. He could literally see the fear in her eyes, the anxiety holding her by the neck. Why? Had he given her some reason to worry? Had he made it seem like that was a taboo topic?

It didn’t take long to rationalize. Logically, he knew it wasn’t him. It wasn’t personal. And, he knew that because he knew exactly how it felt to be afraid of unadulterated vulnerability. It felt like you were naked, exposed to the world, trusting someone with something so valuable and important when you weren’t even sure if you could trust yourself with something like that. It was hard. It was nerve wracking.

But, there was something deeper to it.

Why else would she insist he didn’t respond? It was clear as day. He knew that feeling. He’d been hurt before, too. They’d been together for almost half a year, he knew a good portion of her story, and she knew just as much about his. It was impossible to know it all quite yet, though. Five, six months may seem like a long time to some, but it’s honestly nothing in retrospect. They’re just scratching the surface. He knew the general aspects about her abusive father, he knew she had an emo phase in high school, he knew the superficial shit like her favorite colors, foods, drinks, what medications she needed to take and how often, he knew how she tasted, her tickle spots, where the heating pads were stashed in her apartment - because she had multiple for easy accessibility depending on what room she was in while she was down for the count on her period, and he knew she’d had her heart broken before. But, he didn’t know every little detail about certain things yet.

Inuyasha had had his heart broken before, as well. He knew that feeling. He knew how gruesome and tedious it was to start over, how awful the idea of opening up all over again was, how awkward and weary it felt to tiptoe around specific subjects until you felt comfortable enough describing them, so on and so forth. He knew. Just, apparently, not as well as Kagome did. He was willing to guess that her heart wasn’t just broken. It was trampled on.

His most recent relationship was up and down. He and his ex were never on the same page. He fell quickly but his feelings were unrequited. Then, later on, she began to show more affection, but he’d become closed off by the time that came. Nevertheless, neither of them spoke those words. They never truly opened up about what they felt, how they felt, or why they felt anything, especially romantically. Up until now, Inuyasha had never heard the words, “I’m in love with you.”

Up until recently, Inuyasha had never felt the urge to say, “I’m in love with you.”

No.

That’s wrong.

Sure, recent was a broad term, but it happened several months ago. Several months too soon, he’d deemed. Kagome was playing with his niece, teaching the six year-old how to use a toy compass she’d brought home from class, and congratulating her excitedly whenever Rin got something right. His niece wasn’t shy by any means. She was talkative, playful, bubbly, and bright. But, she had this thing about being touched. She didn’t like it. Only certain somebodies could hold her, hugs were off the table unless you were one of four people, high fives were a maybe, and yet he watched the little girl ask Kagome to watch a movie with her when she was done with the compass, cuddle up next to her on the couch, and fall asleep on her lap without persuasion.

That was it. Kagome respected Rin’s autonomy and boundaries, and Rin let her in by the third time they’d met.

And, Inuyasha fell. Hard.

Again, too soon. So, not saying it was easy. No big deal. After a while, it sort of began spilling out in his idiosyncrasies, in the way he touched her, worshipped her, in the way he craved the knowledge on how to properly care for her. In his terms, he was being painfully obvious. It was almost humiliating how obvious he was being.

It just looks like it wasn’t obvious enough. How could he have expected her to understand? It’s not like she was fluent in his body language or habits. At this point, if she needed it spelled out to her, he’d happily do so.

Because, despite her overwhelming and damn near crippling fear she’d just waded through, Kagome still told him the truth. Kagome courageously stood there, attempted to look him in the eyes, and told him she loved him, no matter how scared or nervous she appeared. If he needed to say it back in order for her to understand, he could return the gesture without hesitation.

First, though, he needed to comprehend what was going through that head of hers. He wasn’t going to jump to conclusions. This wasn’t the time to do so. What she was feeling, that look in her eyes, it stemmed from something deep, something that wasn’t quite healed. He needed, desperately needed, to know what happened. He’d promised to keep his mouth shut earlier, but he hadn’t promised how long he’d hold that. She may have meant about that topic entirely, but that was something he couldn’t and wouldn’t agree to. There was no way in hell he was going to let this slide. Eventually, they were going to have to discuss this.

Now was that time.

Inuyasha suddenly stood, filled with a rage that had surfaced as soon as she shakily asked him if he still wanted her to stay, feeling so irate that he could only clench his fists and pace the floor. There was a good fucking chance this originated with her ex. Maybe her father, but his gut told him otherwise. The things he knew about that relationship were vague. Kagome didn’t like to fixate on it, which was reasonable for anyone who’d moved on, and they never really found a good time to open up about nitty gritty details pertaining to failed relationships; they were more focused on one another and their individual lives. He was fuming. What the fuck had that motherfucker done?

He knew they broke up over two years ago. He knew he’d dumped her just before their anniversary. He knew their relationship wasn’t entirely horrible, but much like he and his own ex-girlfriend, they were rarely on the same page. That’s about it, though. He’d heard a thing or two about how she’d realized way after they’d broken up just how toxic their relationship actually was - one of those late night, shower-thought epiphanies - but she never much elaborated. Hell, she talked about it all so rarely, Inuyasha had even forgotten the fucker’s name. He was her ex-boyfriend so that naturally deemed him irrelevant, because Inuyasha was her current boyfriend and that was all that fucking mattered. But, now he wished he remembered because it would make it at least a little easier to track the bitch ass down and punch his lights out.

She’d opened the door, and he needed to know what was on the other side of it. Inuyasha not only craved, but found it a foundational necessity to understand what had her so anxious to tell him how she felt. First, he recognized he needed to calm down. He couldn’t approach this with heightened emotion because it would cause Kagome to feel insecure and unsafe, which he would never allow her to feel around him.

That was hard for him to do, though. To swallow his frustration, push it aside. He felt things passionately, much like Kagome did. For her, for the light he always looked to for a sense of peace and felicity, for the woman he respected and cherished, he would do it. He could do it.

It took a moment, but Inuyasha left his room and headed to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water to sip on and an extra one for his girlfriend. The shower had stopped running moments ago, and the hairdryer was now blowing. She was biding time. Kagome, more often than not, let her hair air dry. This was killing him. The fact that she was so afraid, so nervous, the fact that she felt anything but contentment in the face of pure and unbridled emotion. Inuyasha just wanted to burst through the bathroom door and tell her to stop, demand she look him in the eyes and say it again and watch how he would never turn away from her. What could he have possibly said that had her more content with silence?

Content wasn’t what she’d felt at all though, was it? Even after he’d kept his mouth shut, Kagome was still trembling, still incredibly uncomfortable.

He was going to the bottom of this.

But, something in his heart wrenched. Overall, he just hoped with everything he had that she didn’t regret telling him.

There was careful deliberation on where he should wait for her. He’d debated standing outside the bathroom door to guide her back with him, but that would apply a lot of pressure straight from a safe zone. There was always the option to sit on the couch until she emerged, but still, he was worried she’d feel like she was under a spotlight. No matter what, Inuyasha was going to be taking her back into his bedroom. It was cozy and comfortable, and he just wanted to fucking hold her. The best course of action was to let Kagome come to him. When she was ready. No matter how much patience wasn’t his virtue. So, he ambled back through the doorway with both water bottles in hand, placing them on the nightstand as he got himself into more comfortable clothing. He’d never finished changing after dropping his shirt on the floor. He grabbed his grey sweats off the end of the bed and shoved his legs into them after removing his jeans, then fished a black tank top out of his dresser, easily and quickly pulling it over his head.

It wasn’t a bad thing that she’d told him. Kagome should be proud of herself. Over and over again, she’d repeated that in her head, but she couldn’t stop herself from feeling like she’d done something wrong. Maybe she’d put him on the spot and made him uncomfortable. She should have at least given him the space to tell her he wasn’t ready to say it back if that was how he felt. That she would have completely and wholeheartedly understood without fault.

Now she was stuck in an unknown area, her head was foggy, her fingers kept trembling, and her eyes were puffy from crying like a baby in the shower. The goal was to tell him how she felt. It was a step in the right direction. A step toward who she truly was behind the protective walls. From this point on, depending on how Inuyasha was feeling, it might be best to pretend nothing happened. Sweep it under the rug.

Everything was so conflicting, so turbulent, and Kagome could bring herself to do nothing but stare at the bathroom doorknob. Her hair was dry, she was dressed in her borrowed outfit, smelling purely of Inuyasha, and even though he still wanted her to stay, she couldn’t believe anything other than the possibility that she’d ruined everything.

What would happen once she exited the bathroom? Would things be uncomfortable? Would he be laying down in bed, facing the wall away from her, silent? Would he ignore her? Would he say something she was terrified to hear right now? Or, was she trapped in her unhealthy thoughts? Was she preparing a response to something that wasn’t waiting for her outside that door? Was she not giving Inuyasha the opportunity to respond in his own, organic way, expecting all the responses she was trained to anticipate before?

With a deep breath, Kagome reached for the knob, twisting it to exit. The apartment was as quiet as it was when she locked herself inside, the clock in the living room ticking loudly as she slowly sauntered through. Lights were dim, but the bedroom, through the opened door, was inhabited. The lamps shaded the white walls in warm hues, and as she got closer she noticed a very soft hum of music playing through the bluetooth speakers he had set up in there, quiet but still melodic and comforting.

Though her heart was pounding and a jittery sensation within her chest was causing her to tread cautiously, she followed the path into his bedroom, spotting Inuyasha sitting on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands. He was quick to notice her presence, sitting up and glancing at her, and even though she faked a smile with a curious notch of her head, it was clear he saw right through her. How wouldn’t he? If he already didn’t know her so well, it was obvious she wouldn’t go from cripplingly apprehensive before her shower to sweet and happy immediately after.

Inuyasha noticed the pink in her cheeks, the stupidly cute but feigned upturn of her plush lips, the way her deep eyes bounced away from him before coming right back only to repeat the same motions. His Kagome. His sweet, hurting, beautiful Kagome.

With an arch of his brow, the hanyou wagged his finger at her, ushering her over to sit on his lap. She was hesitant at first. She knew what was coming, but still, despite her slight discomfort, he released a small, breathy chuckle so she knew he wasn’t upset with her.

“C’mere.” He requested softly, patting his thighs.

“What?” Kagome returned, unsure.

“I want you. C’mere.”

Slowly, she crossed the floor, accepting her boyfriend’s support as she straddled his lap and got comfortable. An uncontrollable pout formed on her face when he looked into her eyes, she felt it, and humiliation washed over her, causing her to hide her expression between his shoulder and neck.

Inuyasha was patient, making sure she was secure in her seat before his hands traveled over her. At first, he couldn’t help but hug her tight. In this moment, Kagome seemed so fragile and he could already feel her body shaking against him. She knew he was going to talk whether she liked it or not.

Still, he gave her a little more time, relaxing against him, her chest melting on his, her arms wrapped around his shoulders but accepting his full support as his hands rubbed over her back soothingly.

“You want to tell me what happened back there?” He asked, opening back up the topic.

“Did I do it wrong?” Kagome spoke, her voice small.

“I’m not worried about right and wrong here, baby. Can you look at me for a second?”

Carefully, Kagome leaned back, giving him the attention he requested. His large, warm hands cradled her jaw, his thumbs caressing her cheeks, his eye contact firm.

“I never want you to be afraid to tell me something, okay? Especially, how you feel.”

Immediately, Kagome began to crumble. Her cheeks grew hot and her lips twitched downward sadly. Tears too quickly threatened her eyes, and Kagome was hasty to hide her face in his shoulder again.

“I need you to talk to me, Kagome. What’s going on?” He asked, returning to rubbing her back. In the silence as he waited, he picked up the back hem of the large shirt she wore, pushing his hands beneath so he could gently massage her skin. The heat from her, the softness, he craved it right now. “Was it something I did?”

Kagome fervently shook her head against him.

“I’m never going to understand unless you tell me, baby. That wasn’t the normal amount of nervousness you’d expect when saying something like that. So, what’s going on?”

“I just didn’t want you to feel obligated to say it back if you weren’t ready.” Kagome sniffled, hugging him tighter.

“Okay, I get that. And, what else?”

“That’s all.”

“You can’t lie to me.”

“Can we just pretend nothing happened and go back to our happy date night?” She whined playfully.

“Unfortunately, no.” Inuyasha chuckled, catching her small attempt at laughing off her problems. “I can’t do that while you’re crying on me, Kagome.”

“I’m not crying.” She sniffled again.

“Oh? You’re not?”

“Nope. These are just allergies.”

“And, what are you suddenly allergic to?”

“Feelings.” Kagome giggled, though she began crying harder, only because her boyfriend was being sweet and obviously getting through to her. She both hated and loved it at the same time.

Inuyasha kissed her shoulder, holding her a little tighter as his hand slipped higher up her bare back. The curve from her little slouch against him had her spine popping out slightly, and ever so softly, Inuyasha traced his fingers over the bones.

“What were you so afraid of me saying?” He all but whispered.

Mustering up some courage, Kagome leaned back, using one hand to meagerly clear her messy face of tears. She took a few unsteady breaths before speaking, her eyes falling to the hem of the collar of his black top, and she allowed her fingers to distractingly drag along it.

“I didn’t want you to tell me you loved me if you weren’t ready or felt pressured, because I don’t want you to take it back later on.”

The hanyou’s brows furrowed inquisitively and he was unable to bite back the reaction of his head cocking to the side in bemusement.

“What?” He almost hissed. “Why would I do that?”

Kagome didn’t answer, continuing to play with the shirt he wore.

“Kagome, why are you afraid of that happening? Don’t tell me -“ Inuyasha had to tense his breath in his lungs to refrain from letting his upset get the better of him. “Did your ex…?”

She responded with the littlest nod, worrying her bottom lip incessantly. “Multiple times.”

“Multiple times?” He echoed on an exhale, his expression widening. His hands were holding her hips, squeezing as comfortingly as possible, but Inuyasha was struck cold. Not only had someone shattered her, but someone managed to look at this woman on top of him and take back their love on more than one occasion? This girl? How? He’d only had her for half a year and he was scared shitless of losing her, so it didn’t make any fucking sense that someone would just toss her aside like that as if she meant nothing.

Slowly, Kagome curled forward, tucking herself against his shoulder. It was like a safety net. Inuyasha was so warm, he held her perfectly every time she felt emotional and vulnerable. As much as she didn’t want to talk about this, she knew this topic would come up eventually. It was a staple of her by now, something she was clearly conditioned to expect after years of receiving it, and even before she fell in love with the man stroking her back beneath her shirt, she knew this issue would arise. It wasn’t going to be easy or quick to work through, that was a given, and she knew he was ultimately going to need to know some of the toxic occurrences of her previous relationship; things that were done to her and things she’d done, as well. She’d considered it was going to be something he’d want clarity on as soon as she admitted her feelings. It was fair. Being on the other end of things, he deserved to know what she’d been through and why she inadvertently responded the way she had.

It was just hard. It was hard to think about and hard to talk about.

But, if she could power through her fear of admitting her feelings, then she could give him everything else, too. It was another step in the right direction, no matter how unsteady the pathway seemed.

“I told him I loved him first, and he responded by telling me I shouldn’t. He was my first love, so I didn’t really know how to react or what to say to that. It’s not like I could just take it back or agree or something.”

“Right.” Inuyasha almost hummed, listening intently to her explanation as he kissed her shoulder here and there.

“Almost a year later, he told me he was falling in love with me. A few months after that, he took it back and said he wasn’t so sure anymore since we’d been arguing.”

The half demon couldn’t control his reaction to hold Kagome a little tighter. It was like an attempt to protect her from things he knew he couldn’t begin to protect her from. If he could control it, no one would ever speak to her like that. No one would ever hurt her this way. No one would ever be able to apply that pressure to her shoulders, because how could she not feel obligated to be perfect and compliant in order to feel valued and cherished?

“Then, I don’t know how long later, he told me he loved me again. It stayed consistent for a while. He’d tell me periodically, particularly when I did nice things for him or if I said it first. Then, again, he ended up taking it back. I had felt it that time and asked him if he still loved me. He said, ‘I don’t know.’ Followed by,” Kagome’s fingers clutched Inuyasha’s shirt, exhaling tremblingly, though she had been doing so well at keeping it together. “‘Maybe soon I’ll love you again, though.’ So, I idiotically stayed. I held onto that hope. I waited and waited until we got into this stupid fight and he broke up with me the next day. He made sure to emphasize that he didn’t love me. But, said he might in the future, we’d just need to stay friends. ‘You never know what the future stores.’”

God, Inuyasha wanted to kill him.

“There was one night after we finally found separate places, we were packing, getting ready to move out of our shared apartment, and we were talking about old things. He told me he never loved me. And, I just never understood why things went on for so long just because he wasn’t sure. Why would you say it if you didn’t? Why couldn’t he have let me go sooner? What good was I if he didn’t even want me there? I wasn’t strong enough to leave, but he was because he literally hung that over my head for most of the time we were together, threatening me with leaving if I didn’t do something right. I have so many things to work through because of him, so many trauma responses to correct, trust issues that I’m projecting unto you, and he walked away like nothing ever happened.” Kagome cried, once again shaking against Inuyasha.

All he could do was kiss her, hush her soothingly, hold her tight, rub the hot flesh of her back. Let her cry. He understood now. He got it. It was why she struggled to take compliments the first time around. It was why she second-guessed sweet gestures. It was why she assumed everything was sarcastic and insincere. It was why she thought her love for him was problematic. She didn’t want him to say anything because she was scared of the words, “I love you.” They meant nothing to some people, they were used as tools, and so easily, they could be erased. Sad thing was, Inuyasha was sure that even if he said the words right here and now, she wouldn’t even believe him.

“Of course, he’s obviously not the sole reason for why I am the way that I am. Can’t give him credit for everything.” Kagome gave a wet giggle, again laughing through her problems. Her coping mechanisms were all over the place, but it was still cute.

Inuyasha sighed defeatedly, laughing lightly as he rested his head on her shoulder.

“So,” He breathed. “You didn’t want me to say anything because you figured nothing was better than something I could hurt you with.”

Her silence was as good as confirmation.

Inuyasha pulled her in firmer, an arm supporting her low back as he picked her up, rotated their bodies, crawled a little further on the bed, and laid her beneath him on the mattress. He had a knee between her legs, but rested on her side, an elbow propping him up while he used his free hand to gently swipe her tears away.

“It was more because I didn’t want you to feel pressured.” Kagome finally spoke after moments of peaceful silence, taking the opportunity he provided to calm down before continuing. “But, then I started to panic. I felt like this is supposed to be a good thing, right? Not everyone is going to respond the way he does, right? I just wanted to tell you so bad. It’s supposed to be a good thing, but I got trapped in my head thinking history would only repeat itself.”

“Baby, are you sure you were ready to tell me?” Inuyasha inquired, dragging his finger along her temple to clean the tears that followed gravity.

She nodded, her bottom lip quivering. “It’s bad enough that I’m afraid of love. I didn’t want to allow myself to sink and be afraid to love, too. That’s not me. I feel like I’d only be letting him stick around in my mind if I did that, but I just want to love you. I do.” Kagome cried, eyes falling away from him. “I wanted you to know, and I’ve been holding onto it long enough.”

Inuyasha leaned his head down, kissing her shoulder. It wasn’t enough for him. He needed to feel her skin beneath his lips so he pulled the baggy collar away so he could leave a tender and invisible mark on her clavicle.

“How long?” The hanyou breathed.

“A month or so.” She matched his soft tone, trying to steady her lungs and bring herself back to a calm. “The night you went on your business trip.”

“Europe?”

“Mhm.”

“Not too bad. It was the groggy voice, huh?”

Though her eyes were still wet and the hair at the sides of her temples were soaked, her cheeks flushed, Kagome glanced back over to him with a hint of surprise. “How’d you know?”

“Because, I knew I’d get a response from you. Always do.” He smirked, planting sweet kisses against her cheek, and moving up to kiss tears away.

“You know I like that?”

“It’s my job to read you like a book, baby. I take my work very seriously. You’re subtle, but I see things I do that you like. You’ve got little mannerisms that give you away.”

“Like what?”

He hummed a decline. “I’m not giving that secret to you. Let me have this. You know what I will tell you?”

“Hm?”

“Do you promise to hear me out? No interrupting, okay? Just listen to me.”

There was an increase in the tension that climbed through her muscles, and her pout turned weary. Inuyasha took a moment to continue kissing her temple, her cheekbone, his palm finding its way beneath her shirt to softly stroke her tummy. When she relaxed a little, he leaned back to look at her.

“Remember that day Rin took a nap with you? I stayed up that night. Couldn’t sleep. I had you here next to me, and I just couldn’t stop listening to the sound of your breathing. I was scared shitless, but the crazy fucking part was, even though you weren’t awake, having you right here helped keep me calm. It was counterintuitive. I was both scared of you and at peace with you. I wanted you to wake up and do that thing where you tickle the small of my back with your fingers because, god, nothing feels better than that. It was like you held all of me in the palm of your hands, and you could easily drop it in the trash at any given moment. But, it’s you. I knew you wouldn’t. That was my night, though. That was the moment I realized I was in love with you.”

Kagome hardened slightly, and he could literally hear how hard her heart was thumping within her chest. She didn’t smile, didn’t frown, didn’t make much of any expression really, aside from her brows giving a minor, inward twitch.

“That was quite a few months ago. Nothing’s changed. If anything, it’s gotten deeper. I’m so worried one day you’ll walk out those doors and never come back. I don’t want to lose you just as badly as you don’t want to lose me.” He was the one to hide his face this time, tucking it within her neck as he threaded his arms around her back, holding her close. He hadn’t expected her to clutch him in return, but she did. Immediately. Kagome supported him through his own moment of vulnerability, but more importantly, he felt it was a way to communicate her reception. “I don’t care how many times I have to say it until you begin to believe me. I don’t care what I have to do to make you feel secure in our relationship. I’ll do it all. You know I don’t say shit unless I mean it.”

“I believe you.” Kagome whispered, a small hiccup at the tale end that jostled her chest. “That’s the scary part.”

He nodded again, pulling away to gently press his forehead to hers for a moment.

“I get it.” Inuyasha breathed before leaning back to look her in the eyes. “But, one of these days you’ll understand that no matter what happens, I won’t take a damn thing back. You’ll see that I don’t want it back. I feel like my heart’s safer with you, anyway.”

“Stop it.” She pouted, but he knew that was her way of conceding. Even as she cried a little harder and tucked herself into his chest so he couldn’t see it. “You’re being too sweet. Be mean to me again.”

Inuyasha chuckled, raising his hand, “As you wish.” He said, smacking it down against her butt.

The little yelp she released was so sad but adorable as she flinched away from the sting, but it inadvertently brought her to cuddle closer to him. The hanyou laughed, brushing his fingers through her hair and massaging her scalp.

“Can you do something for me?” He asked.

“Hm?” She grumbled into his chest.

“Tell me again. This time look right at me. Don’t look away, don’t fidget, just trust me. That was my first time hearing it. I gotta hear it straight.”

She hadn’t realized Inuyasha hadn’t heard the words before. She didn’t know that. This was big for him too, if not bigger. Was she his first love? Was she the first person he’d ever said that to? Kagome felt a warmth course through her, and even though she was slightly nervous, she didn’t feel unsteady. Not while he held her. Not while his amber eyes were above her, watching her with an emotion she’d never before seen. She came out of hiding with a level of ease she hadn’t felt a moment ago, secure, one of his hands lightly trailing her side beneath her borrowed shirt.

Her fingers had a mind of their own, reaching for his cheek as she softly caressed it, her thumb tenderly rubbing over his bottom lip. “I love you, Inuyasha.”

It was like a sigh of relief left his lungs, and the corners of his mouth inched upward. His eyes were hooded with affection, and he leaned down to kiss her, lingering on her soft lips.

“Your turn.” Kagome whispered as he pulled away, her brown eyes shifting from his eyes to his lips.

It felt incredible that she wanted to hear it now. And, though he knew everything was going to take time until she felt comfortable with the idea that he wouldn’t take a damn thing back, he knew it would take time to work through her trust issues little-by-little, he didn’t mind. Because, she was his and he was hers, and he was all too happy to hold her hand and walk by her side while they figured everything out. He couldn’t fix this for her. He hated that he couldn’t take her pain away. That’s not how it worked, though. He knew this. She knew this. Inuyasha was her partner through everything, and he’d be the best fucking partner he could be.

He grinned with their foreheads pressed together, his hand on her waist gripping tighter as he couldn’t help but chuckle from sheer bliss. “God, I’m so fucking in love with you.”

Kagome smiled, pushing Inuyasha over to roll on top, once more straddling his hips as she gazed down at him. She wanted to burn this image of him in her mind. She never wanted to forget that soft look in his eyes, or the way he reached up and tenderly wiped away any remaining tears that stained her face. He meant it. She believed him. And, she hoped with everything inside of her that he never took it away from her.

She curled down, cuddling into her chest and Inuyasha immediately turned his head to kiss her forehead. He held her close, gently stroking her hair back and basking in her incredibly comforting heat. He loved her. He loved her so goddamn much. His Kagome.

“What do you need right now, baby?”

“Nothing.” She hummed.

“What do you want, then.”

He knew she struggled with that one, but whenever he asked, she did her best to communicate properly. “Touch my butt again.”

Inuyasha laughed huskily, his hands gliding down her back to take a firm and wonderful hold on her ass.

“And, pizza.”

“Oh, see, I’m a step ahead of you on that one. Ordered a couple before you got out of the shower.”

Kagome gave a short half whine - half squeal of happiness as she cuddled in closer and kissed his neck. “Thank you.”

[kuramirocket]

On July 10, 1520, Aztec forces vanquished the Spanish conquistador Hernán Cortés and his men, driving them from Tenochtitlan, capital of the Aztec empire. The Spanish soldiers were wounded and killed as they fled, trying in vain to drag stolen gold and jewels with them.

By September, an unexpected ally of the would-be conquerors had reached the city: the variola virus, which causes smallpox.

How the Aztecs responded to this threat would prove critical.

The Aztecs were no strangers to plagues. Among the speeches recorded in their rhetoric and moral philosophy, we find a warning to new kings concerning their divinely ordained role in the event of contagion:

Sickness will arrive during your time. How will it be when the city becomes, is made, a place of desolation? Just how will it be when everything lies in darkness, despair? You will also go rushing to your death right then and there. In an instant, you will be over.

Facing a plague, it was vital that the king respond with grace. They warned:

Do not be a fool. Do not rush your words, do not interrupt or confuse people. Instead find, grasp, arrive at the truth. Make no one weep. Cause no sadness. Injure no one. Do not show rage or frighten folks. Do not create a scandal or speak with vanity. Do not ridicule. For vain words and mockery are no longer your office. Never, of your own will, make yourself less, diminished. Bring no scorn upon the nation, its leadership, the government.

Retract your teeth and claws. Gladden your people. Unite them, humor them, please them. Make your nation happy. Help each find their proper place. That way you’ll be esteemed, renowned. And when our Lord extinguishes you, the old ones will weep and sigh.

If a king did not follow this advice, if his rule caused more suffering than it abated, then the people prayed to Tezcatlipoca for any number of consequences, including his death:

May he be made an example of. Let him receive some reprimand, whatever you choose. Perhaps punishment. Disease. Perhaps you’ll let your honor and glory fall to another of your friends, those who weep in sorrow now. For they do exist. They live. You have no want of friends. They are sighing before you, humble. Choose one of them.

Perhaps he [the bad ruler] will experience what the common folk do: suffering, anguish, lack of food and clothing. And perhaps you will give him the greatest punishments: paralysis, blindness, rotting infection.

Or will he instead soon depart this world? Will you bring about his death? Will he get to know our future home, the place with no exits, no smoke holes? Maybe he will meet the Lord of Death, Mictlanteuctli, mother and father of us all.

Clearly, the Aztecs took the responsibilities of leadership very seriously. Beyond uplifting morale, a king’s principal duty in times of contagion was deploying his subjects to “their proper place” so that the kingdom could continue to function. This included mobilizing the titicih, doctor-healers with vast herbal knowledge, most of them women pledged to the primal mother goddess Teteoh Innan.

What about the rest of the people? As with our own modern call for “thoughts and prayers,” the Aztecs believed their principal collective tool for fending off epidemics was a humble appeal to Tezcatlipoca. The very first speech of their text of rhetoric and moral philosophy was a supplication to destroy plague. After admitting how much they might deserve this scourge and recognizing the divine right of Tezcatlipoca to punish them however he sees fit, the desperate Aztecs tried to get their powerful god to consider the worst-case outcome of his vengeance:

O Master, how in truth can your heart desire this? How can you wish it? Have you abandoned your subjects? Is this all? Is this how it is now? Will the common folk just go away, be destroyed? Will the governed perish? Will emptiness and darkness prevail? Will your cities become choked with trees and vines, filled with fallen stones? Will the pyramids in your sacred places crumble to the ground?

Will your anger never be reversed? Will you look no more upon the common folk? For—ah!—this plague is destroying them! Darkness has fallen! Let this be enough. Stop amusing yourself, O Master, O Lord. Let the earth be at rest! I fall before you. I throw myself before you, casting myself into the place from which no one rises, the place of terror and fear, crying out: O Master, perform your office … do your job!

Smallpox arrived in Mesoamerica with a second wave of Spaniards who joined forces with Cortés. According to one account, they had with them an enslaved African man known as Francisco Eguía, who was suffering from smallpox. He, like many others on the continent of his birth, had no immunity to the disease carried there by the slave traders.

Eguía died in the care of Totonac people near Veracruz, the port city established by the Spanish some 250 miles east of the Aztec capital. His caretakers became infected. Smallpox spreads easily: not only blood and saliva, but also skin-to-skin contact (handshakes, hugs) and airborne respiratory droplets. It raced through a population with no herd immunity at all: along the coast, over the mountains, across the waters of Lake Texcoco, into the very heart of the populous empire.

The epidemic lasted 70 days in the city of Tenochtitlan. It killed 40 percent of the inhabitants, including the emperor, Cuitlahuac. Had he found it increasingly difficult to keep his people’s spirits up as tradition commanded? Had his leadership faltered? Did his subjects pray for his death?

Whatever the case, the memory of that devastation would echo for centuries. Some Nahuas—mostly the sons and grandsons of Aztec nobility—described the devastation decades after the conquest.

Their account harrows the soul:

It started during Tepeilhuitl [the 13th month of the solar calendar], when a vast human devastation spread over everyone. Some were covered in pustules, which spread everywhere, on people’s faces, heads, chests, etc. There was great loss of life; many people died of it.

They could not walk anymore. They just lay in bed in their homes. They could not move anymore, could not shift themselves, could not sit up or stretch out on their sides. They could not lay flat on their backs or even face down. If they even stirred, they screamed out in pain.

Many died of hunger, too. They starved because no one was left to care for the others; no one could attend to anyone else. On some people, the pustules were few and far between. They caused little discomfort, and those folks did not die. Still others had their faces marred.

By Panquetzaliztli [the 15th month of the solar year], it began to fade. At that time the brave warriors of the Mexica managed to recover.

But a hard lesson had been learned. None of the old remedies had worked. Entire families were gone. Funeral pyres effaced the sun.

The epidemic was only the beginning of the unexpected forces working in tandem to bring down the Aztec empire. On May 22, 1521—just as Tenochtitlan was beginning to recover, trying to rebuild trade routes, restock its supplies, replant its fields and aquatic chinampa gardens—Cortés returned.

This time he commanded more Spanish troops, men from the same second wave that had brought the smallpox. With them marched tens of thousands of Tlaxcaltecah warriors, the sworn enemies of the Aztecs. Smallpox had reached Tlaxcallan first, but its people—not as densely packed in urban areas like the Mexica—had fared better and were now ready to finish off their rivals.

The massive military force laid siege to the Aztec capital. Even with more than half the population dead or disabled, with little food or water or supplies, the Mexica held the city for three months.

Then, on August 13, 1521, it fell. Emptiness and darkness indeed prevailed.

Lines from a song composed by an unknown Mexica not long afterward sums up the emotions of the survivors:

It is our God who brings down

His wrath, His awesome might

upon our heads.

So friends, weep at the realization—

we abandon the Mexica Way.

Now the water is bitter,

the food is bitter: that

is what the Giver of Life

has wrought.

Without the smallpox, it’s much less likely Cortés and his allies could have taken Tenochtitlan. 

The plague—cocoliztli—was the most devastating post-conquest epidemic in large parts of Mexico, wiping out somewhere around 80 percent of the native population.

“Somewhere around” because population estimates are difficult to come by, with extrapolations made from incomplete colonial sources that date back to precolonial times. For the ethnohistorian Charles Gibson, there is no “sure method for determining whether the later [colonial era] counts were more accurate or less accurate than the earlier ones,” so that “the magnitude of the unrecorded population seems unrecoverable.”

Nevertheless, Gibson’s best estimate is a population of 1,500,000 inhabitants of the Valley of Mexico at the time of first contact with Europeans. There was a sharp fall of about 325,000 by 1570; a drastic fall to about 70,000 by the mid-seventeenth century; followed by slow growth to about 275,000 by 1800. Gibson’s figures are simply staggering. They give us a rough impression, but tell us little about the suffering and massive social upheaval caused by these catastrophes.

Slavery, forced labor, wars, and large-scale resettlements all worked together to make indigenous communities more vulnerable to disease.

According to the “Virgin Soil” theory, the epidemics were so desctructive because “the populations at risk have had no previous contact with the diseases that strike them and are therefore immunologically… defenceless,” as the psychiatrist David Jones writes in the William & Mary Quarterly. The theory is still widespread, often devolving into vague claims that indigenous people had “no immunity” to the new epidemics. By now we know that the lack of immunity played a role, but mostly early on. Current research instead emphasizes an interplay of influences, for the most part triggered by Europeans: slavery, forced labor, wars, and large-scale resettlements all worked together to make indigenous communities more vulnerable to disease.

According to a group of scholars writing in the journal Latin American Antiquity, in colonial Mexico, “by the mid-17th century, many… communities had failed, victims of massive population decline, environmental degradation, and economic collapse.” This is why it’s crucial for today’s scholars to emphasize the influence of colonial policies—as opposed to the Virgin Soil theory, which shifts responsibility away from Europeans.

One peak of the epidemic occurred in the 1570s. The exact pathogen that caused that epidemic is not yet known. Some scholars have speculated that, since it struck mostly younger people, it might have been something unique to the New World and reminiscent of the Spanish Influenza outbreak, possibly a tropical hemorrhagic fever. Other recent theories include Salmonella, or a combination of diseases. Native communities were the main victims of this epidemic due to their poverty, malnourishment, and harsh working conditions compared to the Spanish population.

Three Circles in the Sun

Aztec authors from central Mexico noted their reactions to the epidemics in fascinating detail. Writing 100 years after the Spanish military takeover, they were painfully aware of the consequences of epidemics and colonization: epidemics had taken place before, but the unprecedented scale of the disasters caused widespread incomprehension, sadness, and anger.

Much of the extant writing by Aztec authors dates to the turn of the seventeenth century. Many of the authors had experienced the plague themselves, its effects still fresh in their memories. I want to focus on two pieces of writing: a report by the well-known historian Diego Muñoz Camargo from Tlaxcala, written in Spanish; and an anonymous text in the indigenous language, Nahuatl, from the Puebla region.

As Diego Muñoz Camargo, the famous historian from the era, wrote:

In 1576, another great pestilence struck this land, bringing death and destruction to the native population. It lasted over a year and brought ruin and decay to most of New Spain [the Spanish Viceroyalty covering today’s Mexico], as the native population was then almost extinct. One month before the outbreak of the disease, an obvious sign had been seen in the sky: three circles in the sun, resembling bleeding or exploding suns, in which the colours merged. The colours of those three circles were those of the rainbow and could be seen from eight o’clock until almost one o’clock at noon.

This passage demonstrates the great importance of omens for the Aztecs. 

It is not surprising that the second report, from the smaller community of Tecamachalco, also links diseases with the appearance of a comet. Probably written by the native noble Don Mateo Sánchez, the text shows the extent of the catastrophe in words quite similar to Diego Muñoz Camargo’s:

On the first day of August [of 1576] the great sickness began here in Techamachalco. It was really strong; there was no resisting. At the end of August began the processions because of the sickness. They finished on the ninth day. Because of it, many people died, young men and women, those who were old men and women, or children… When the month of October began, thirty people had been buried. In just two or three days they would die… They lost their senses. They thought of just anything and would die.

Several of Don Mateo’s family members also died, including his wife and the alcalde (mayor) of his quarter. Don Mateo then took over the post of alcalde. One can sense his incomprehension and anguish. The decimation of the indigenous elites is evident throughout his account.

This decimation contributed to the transformation of native societies well into the seventeenth century, including forced native labor and resettlements, the introduction of hierarchical Spanish laws and government, Christianity, and the alphabet. Together with increasing European immigration, the epidemic led to a massive upheaval of indigenous sociopolitical organization and ways of life, especially in the Valley of Mexico.

Don Mateo’s is not the only surviving account of the epidemic from an indigenous perspective. Other anonymous annals from Puebla and Tlaxcala from the era discuss earlier waves of disease, which remained firmly rooted in collective memory more than 100 years after the events. Like Mateo, these sources do not try to account for the origin of the disease, but they provide an idea of the scale and horror of the epidemic and the personal tragedies involved, the uprooting of families, of whole towns.

Meanwhile, the Spaniards’ narratives tried to explain the catastrophic effect the disease had on the indigenous population by pointing to difficult living conditions. But they also interpreted it as divine punishment for paganism and a sign of the native peoples’ alleged inferiority to Europeans. Of course, European remedies such as bloodletting, used in hospitals to treat indigenous patients, worsened conditions instead of healing them. Ultimately, the Spanish Crown feared above all a further loss of cheap or unpaid labour; the priests a loss of souls to be converted.

Holding Off Oblivion

Despite the harsh conditions, the descendants of the Aztecs did not give up—as has long been claimed in traditional scholarship. As the historian Camilla Townsend has argued, the demographic collapse lent urgency to the projects of major native historians—including the authors I’ve cited in this essay. Nearly all pre-Hispanic sources were destroyed by the Spanish, with some lost over time. The Chalca scholar Domingo de Chimalpahin commented on this confluence of factors: the destruction of sources and abandonment of communities strengthened his sense of responsibility to future generations. By writing history, he attempted to save his ancestors’ past from looming oblivion. Drawing on pre-Hispanic faith, continuing political participation, and recording the histories of their people: these are some of the ways in which Aztecs proactively shaped their lives following colonial devastation.

Centuries of colonial exploitation and violence have made the indigenous peoples of both Americas disproportionately vulnerable to current epidemics. This makes the resilience of indigenous peoples and cultures all the more incredible. Such resilience has developed over more than 500 years, in the face of continual adversity and disregard. Native American peoples provide varied and remarkable testimonies on weathering existential crises. The least we can do, in the midst of the current pandemic, is listen.

Other Source

[klaus-is-the-real-number-1]

Everybody wants to rule the world (number 5 x reader)

Ask:  the reader somehow survives the apocalypse and gets found by five and they spend a couple of years together, in those years they learn about eachother , unfortunately the reader doesn´t make it through the 45 years and dies somehow. When jumping back in time, five goes to find the reader at Griddy's  and goes to check on her often and talk with her over coffee, when the apocalypse comes he brings her along with their siblings and also back in time and tells her he's not loosing her again

A/N: Hope this is what you wanted, they’re both 16 at the start like lets pretend instead of running away at 13 he waited a few more years. when he goes back in time to 2019 theyre both 16 just like idk its easier to write them both being 16+

Words:1917

Worked dragged on cold, quiet nights, sometimes the minimum wage job at the small town diner didn’t quite seem worth it, forcing a smile on your face at every new customer. “Can you go down to the freezer and get some ice please, sweety?” Smiling, you nod at your coworker, starting your descent down the steep steps to the basement. You never understood why it was placed quite so far down under Griddy’s but it was a welcome break, the near freezing air cooled your skin. 

Deep into the freezer, you hear the door gently click shut behind you as you try to find any ice left at all. Once you spotted one, high up on the top shelf, you reach up on your tiptoes, your finger just skimming the cold plastic bag before you were thrown to the ground by an astronomical force followed promptly by a loud bang that resonated in your chest.

Before you could even gain a sense of what was happening another bang wracked through your body, followed by another, only for multiple hitting all at once almost like a nuclear strike, hell, it was a nuclear strike, that was the only reasoning you could think of to explain what was happening. Then it went silent, you find the courage to shakily make your way onto your feet, slowly edging towards the door. 

Quivering, your fingers skimmed the cold door handle of the freezer, almost opening it before being thrown across the freezer by a shockwave, your back slamming against the floor giving you whiplash. Darkness filled the corners of your eyes as the world above you collapsed, the cold from the freezer almost freezing you in place as slowly, everything went black.

Cold seeped into your core as your eyes regained focus, as memories came flooding back tears came flooding in. Ignoring the pain from your back you throw yourself towards the door, begging for it to swing open to reveal that everything is normal only to be greeted with a door full of rubble. Without a second thought you start trying to dig through the rubble with your bare hands, almost instantly getting cuts and debris on your hands, only for a large rumble to cut through the quiet, you run away from the door as you watch it all fall down into the freezer.

“VANYA?”

Your head turns to the freezer door, seeing a stream of light just shining through the top, the outside world, and someone was there. “HELP!” You shout with every ounce of your body. 

“HELP!”

Five couldn’t believe his ears, someone was still alive. He tried to find where the sound was coming from then he heard the call for help again, clear as day. Running in the direction it came from, he desperately searched for the sound of the voice before it was too late. 

“Hello? Where are you?”

You see a shadow cross the small gap that separates you from the outside world, you hoped it was someone, anything. “I’m here! I’m right here. Look down.” The shadow moved back across the hole, stopping directly in front of it. Suddenly, he was behind you in a flash of blue, you turn to face him, not even bothering to question how he did that and threw yourself towards him and giving him a tight embrace.

When you release him and look around you’re on the surface, your eyes taking in the wasteland of the world. Your mouth fell open at the sight, turning around to see Griddys crumbled to the floor, buildings on fire and people lying dead. 

“What happened?” Locking eyes with the boy, you hoped he had an answer.

“I was about to ask you the same thing. How long were you down there?” 

“I think since last night,” Your eyes started to water as you spoke, looking at the smashed up Griddy’s sign lying on the floor. “I went to get some ice from the freezer and next thing I knew there was all these bangs going off, like bombs.” You mimicked an explosion with your hands before continuing. “Just before I could try and open the freezer door, a shockwave from something big hitting, I got thrown back and went unconscious.” 

“Shit.”

“I’m y/n, I think we might be sticking around each other for a while.”

“Five.” He stuck out his hand, a sad smile on his face.

It was hard fending for yourselves, you were lucky that Five had some survival skills but even with some skills, it was hard. Two teenagers should never be left to fend for themselves, let alone be left as the last ones alive. You taught each other some vital things however, you teaching Five how to cook with limited food and supplies and other small things you’d picked up in your life and Five taught you how to fight and protect yourself, you were quite the team.

Slowly, you became more than a team, more than just two people trying to survive. As the years went on, you were surviving for each other, Five was trying to get the maths right so you could go back together, stop the apocalypse together and live happily, together. No label could describe your relationship but at the same time there was no need to label the relationship when there was only the two of you in the world, it was something special just for you two, the world was yours. 

He knew everything about you, your job, favourite movie and book, how you liked greek mythology and the stars. On a night, you’d lie looking at the stars, running your hand through his hair and telling him about a different Greek God and their relation to the stars.

“And that one-” You stopped dead in your tracks, the moon was full but something wasn’t right with it, a part of it was missing. “Five, a part of the moon is missing.”

“Huh?” He squinted his eyes to look at the moon. “Holy shit.”

Now it was just a game of determining how the moon broke, if it was the moon that truly caused the apocalypse. You had plenty of time to think about it as Five worked on his equation to get you both back home. He’d been working on it for years, you weren’t sure how many years had past but you were both much older now, more mature and smart, even if you did have to educate yourselves using whatever books you could find.

A heat wave wracked through the area, fatiguing you and Five during your travels. You’d walked for miles in the blistering heat, there was a welcoming sight of shade next to an upstanding building which was a rare sight. Gratefully, you move into the shade and rest your back against the tall wall, noticing all the exposed beam poles, dangerously hanging exposed above.

But you’d run out of luck, it was bound to happen eventually, almost as if in slow motion the wall gave out behind you and down came the beams, piercing right through you. Everything was numb yet your eyes were open rivers, the memories of you and Five flashed before your eyes, he was your whole life, the love of your life and you ruined it just as quickly as it started. Five was right next to you, begging you to keep living yet you couldn’t hear him as everything went blurry.

“I’ll wait for you in the past Five, just don’t forget to come get me, okay?” You never heard an answer just the ever deafening ringing that consumed your mind as it went blank, all you could make out was him sat right next to you, saying something but you weren’t sure what. Weakly, you raised your hand to his cheek. “I love you.” You spoke, then everything went black.

Work was always slow on the weekdays, with most people being at work it made for a quiet and relaxing shift. A chime echoed through the diner, signalling a new customer. Smiling, you were met face to face with a boy around your age, almost looking at you in awe.

“Hi, how can I help?” Your pen was poised ready to write down his order. 

“Black coffee, please.” He seemed nervous, you just smiled and went to get his coffee, coming back and pouring it in front of him. “I like your bracelet, it’s the constellation for Gaia, right? The Goddess of the earth?”

“Wow, yeah,” You smiled to yourself before locking eyes with him. “You know your stuff.” 

“I had a friend, a long time ago,” taking the mug, he held it in both his hands as he talked. “They taught me all about the different constellations and their relation to the Gods.” He took a sip.

“I think I’d get along swell with your friend.” You leant against the counter, you felt a wave of deja vu as you spoke to him, he seemed so familiar but you were certain you hadn’t met him before.

“I haven’t seen them in years, maybe I could be the next best thing. I’m Five.” He held out his hand.

Gently, you took it. “I’m y/n.”

As soon as you released his grip, the bell rang again and in came people in black suits and guns, all pointing at Five. Just before you were going to speak Five cut you off.

“Duck.”

Shots ricocheted around the diner as you dropped to the floor behind the counter, frozen in fear you couldn’t move. You didn’t even want to know what was going on behind you, you just kept your eyes firmly shut, hoping it would all be some big dream that you’ll wake up from. As soon as the shooting had stopped you felt a pair of hands on yours.

“Don’t move.” It was Five, a sudden sickening feeling came over you followed by a wave of disotatation. When you open your eyes you’re in an unfamiliar room with Five, the boy you’d met mere minutes ago. “Please hear me out, I can explain everything.”

So you listened and tried to take everything in, the apocalypse, you surviving, building a life with Five and being essentially the last people on earth, then you died. It was overwhelming, the entire situation but one thing struck you, is there any proof?

“Can you prove it? Prove that any of this happened and that you’re not just crazy.” He sighed.

“Promise you won’t freak out?” Once you nodded, he handed you a picture, a picture of you and him but older. “After about 3 years of walking, we found a polaroid camera that only had one film left so we took a picture together.” It was most definitely the both of you in that photo, smiling behind a wasteland behind you. 

“I also have this.” He pulled out a silver chain and handed it to you, it was your bracelet. “It’s one of a kind right? You’re grandad made it for you.” He was right, there was only ever one of these bracelets but he had the exact same one.

“So we were the last ones standing?” He nodded. “Cool.” It was not cool at all, it was terrifying.

“I’m going to stop the apocalypse, y/n, but I can’t do it without you. I can’t lose you again.” 

You stare at the items in your hand before locking eyes with him. “Okay, me and you, we’re gonna stop this. I promise.”