#but i am just one book in a library of millions who is capable of being wrong and i do wish more ppl approached me with that in mind

[violentviolette]

idk why people treat you like an expert on mental illness and not just a tumblr blogger

its not entirely on them tbh, i think ppl are desperate for help in a time when mental health shit is both everywhere but also 90% of it is dead wrong, and so the moment they find somone who is making sense and is accessible they just kind jump in head first which is partly my own doing, like i do very much present myself in this space as someone who is both knowlegeable about mental health and also willing to give advice and speak on topics. so like while i am still very very much just Some Guy and not at all an expert, im also some guy with a college degree in sociology, counseling experience, multiple mental illnesses and almost 20 years experience with multiple different types of therapy and in the system. which i think for a lot of people is more than most of the other sources they're looking at

so like i get why ppl come here and ask me stuff and i dont mind at all, i just wish they would take it with a grain of salt when something i say doesnt apply to them or makes them feel some type'a way

[empressgetou]

A GIFT

husband poseidon x wife goddess reader

posiedon may be called as the most fearsome god or the god of gods or the tyrant of the sea, but all these titles meant nothing when it comes to his wife. y/n would call it as a facade considering that his attitude is the complete opposite of what the gods known him for.

the king of the seas had met his better half way back when he was still a boy. whenever he would visit the library of valhalla he somehow catches her just around the corner reading quietly all alone.

days turned into weeks that turned into months of visiting the library, he never misses her innocent figure by that very corner who seems to be on her own world. then one particular day, she finally approach him making his heart skip a beat by her voice.

"excuse me, lord posiedon. i don't want to interrupt you but i wanted to borrow the book you have got there since i wanted to finish the novel i am currently reading." she asked politely. little did she know, posiedon has taken interest of what the girl has been reading these past few days and have read in advance to finish the book first.

her voice it sounds alluring, as if the sirens were to hypnotize the humans in the ocean. he thought.

he nodded in response and gave the book. well he already finished the novel might as well let her borrow it.

"it is quite a surprise that my lord has taken interest in these types novels?" she then closely leaned into his side.

"would you mind if i seat here beside you? i'd like to know what your thoughts on this right after i read."

"no, but are you comfortable being with me?"

"hmm? why shouldn't i, my lord? as long as you're not feeding me to your piranhas back at atlantis then i dont mind." she innocently giggled as if there were no rumours of the young prince going around. not that she knows about those, the young goddess is too busy to gossip with the other young ones her age.

and with that interaction started their romance. with millions and millions of years have gone by and the gods have been happily married to each other, they are also known to be one of the most powerful couple in valhalla. with the two of them working together nothing seems to stop them. y/n being the goddess of healing and peace and poseidon being the god of the seas and waters sounded terrifying for the humans even for the gods. and with y/n's every step bringing happiness along the way there will always be poseidon following closely to him who keeps other gods or humans especially intimidated which results to y/n scolding him back at their place.

and just like any other day in the kingdom of atlantis, y/n all by herself in their very own library reading peacefully was cut off when a knock was heard.

"i'm home." said by a gentle voice.

"you're back home early, my beloved. did something happened?", y/n replied as she rose from her seat and greeted his husband with a light kiss.

"that half human happened. the gods have agreed to that filthy woman to have a fight between humanity and us gods, a ragnarok." he said full of frustration in his face.

she guided him to seat and ease his anger.

"i'm sure brunhilde has her reasons as to why she had done this, after all she is still a part of their kind."

"what made you upset?"

"i do not wish to participate in their foolish games. i am a god that is nowhere near a humans ability to reach and they dare try and compete with me? that is unacceptable!"

"you could withdraw from it if you don't wish to join them"

"the pantheon has already decided. no matter. i shall win of course those humans will not be in my way."

currently, zeus and adam fighting in the arena with a time of 5 minutes now. y/n seated beside his husband watching from the booth with hermes and other gods. they were informed beforehand that poseidon were to battle after his brother. y/n was anxious, not because of the fight she knew his husband was capable of defeating them, it was actually her secret that she may have been keeping from his husband a little while now. he looked at her and this made poseidon think that his wife was worried about him.

with now adam defeated by zeus, poseidon stood up and y/n following him by the back door.

"i'll be back this won't take long, my love." he said while cupping her face and his voice with no trace of arrogance but rather a soft one.

"i'll cheer you on, husband. and when you are done, there is something i'd like to tell you." this made poseidon curious.

is this why she had been spacing out lately? he thought.

she then kissed him good luck and said her i love you's.

during the battle y/n remained uneasy, kojiro sasaki is indeed a good swordsman with his skills and speed no doubt that he would've defeated a god. but not this god, posiedon managed to be much quicker to attack than sasaki's. and with that it ends as the god of the seas declared winner of the match. making it a score of 3 and the humans 0.

y/n stood up and rushed down into the doors going to the arena meeting his husband on the dimmed alley. posiedon caught by surprise his wife rushing towards him with open arms.

"i was worried about you! i glad it is over now!" she hugged him tight as if the world depends on it.

"i told you i would be back, though it did took me a while to finish." he could hear her quiet sniffles and decided to just walk off to the infirmary still holding her like a baby supporting her back with his right hand and her bottom with his other hand.

as soon as they were inside the room, he seated her beside him while the aids have come to heal the injured god.

"leave us, my wife shall take care of this." declared the god and were left to be alone with his spouse.

y/n did not hesitate and began her healing magic while doing so she could not help whether it is the perfect time to tell his husband of what she have been keeping these days. poseidon knowing his wife like the back of his hand can feel her uneasiness and decided to ask.

"there is something you wanna tell me." that made y/n taken aback a bit. no doubt that his husband would notice much sooner. she is not the type that keeps secrets after all, the goddess is more of an open book to poseidon.

"remember, i have something i'd like to tell you after you have finished your fight?" he nodded urging her to continue.

"i only found out recently and had been trying my best to keeping it for myself." she giggled.

"hera has spoke to me the other day when we were at the pantheon. she told me that eileithyia has informed her that i am with... a child." that made poseidon's world stop.

a child? he thought. they both have been trying for an offspring quiet some time now. he would always watch merfolks back at antlantis with their young ones. with their cute little fins and soft features and loud laughter's, no wonder the king of the seas would want one his own.

he pulled her towards him and hugged her tight depending his massive size into her delicate body. he would've bursted into tears if it weren't for her chuckle.

"i'm guessing you are happy with the news i brought, my love?"

"happy? no, no not just happy, dear. i am thrilled that we are finally able to have a child on our own." he looked deep into her eyes and kissed her passionately.

"thank you. this is the most precious gift that you have given me." he continued while still holding her close to his chest.

"we have been trying my husband, i'm glad that the goddess of labour has bestowed us such gift."

"although you are still horrible at keeping such secrets, i keep noticing you fidgeting from time to time." he smirked making y/n lightly smacking his chest.

"i love you, my dearest. and our child as well." he said with with full adoration while trying to hold his nonexistent baby bump.

"i love you much more, my husband."

masterlist

"now, let's fix that hair of yours hmm? it does not look too good after that swordman cut if off unequally." she laughed when she noticed it, that's because his hair can and only be touched by his wife and no other beings. that is when poseidon realized his hatred with humanity once more.

[rosalynesimp]

Secretly in love. Part 2.

Lady Dimitrescu x Y/N

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI :)

Tags: fluff, slow burn, bruises, smoking

Notes: finally i can post again! no smut just yet, hope you enjoy anyways :)

Dear Diary,

Recently, I made a mistake a horrendous mistake by getting so close. By letting myself unwind a bit. I got extremely close to the edge and almost fell to the bottomless abyss. In that case, I came to conclusion to alienate myself from that… absolutely gorgeous young lady.

However, I am not completely assured about that decision. I find myself rather fallen in love than I am not. I could even say that I… miss her. I do my best to not let myself come around her any closer. It might be very hazardous for Y/N though. I should see how it will work out.

Sincerely,

A.D.

Lady Dimitrescu closes her diary. She shuts her eyes as a deeply sorrowful look comes upon her face. She lights up a cigarette, not using her elegant holder this time and takes a deep drag. Feels like her lungs start to burn. So does her heart.

Alcina exhales the smoke toward the closed window, letting herself to get a bit emotional alone with herself. The tears run down her pale porcelain cheeks, dropping on her arm. She takes another drag. Her quiet sobs echoes through the chamber.

“Mother?”

Lady Dimitrescu wipes off her tears, turning around to face her daughter. Cassandra stays in the middle of the room, tugs her clothes as she looks at her Mother. Alcina puts on an emotionless mask on yet deep inside she breaks down. She wants to pour her soul out so bad that she is about to burst into tears again. Alcina hides her trembling lips behind her hand, taking another long drag.

“Yes, sugarplum?”

She asks and Cassandra frowns.

“Sugarplum? The fuck is that?”

“Language. You know that I do not accept any vulgarities in the House Dimitrescu.”

“Sorry, Mother. Is… everything alright? You’ve distanced yourself lately and I’ve… we’ve been worried about you.”

Alcina sighs and nods, a fake smile appears upon her lips.

“I am alright, dear. You may leave now. I have some unfinished business to do. I will see you around at dinner.”

*****

It’s been a month since Lady Dimitrescu invited you in her chambers. It was sweet of her and she did it on propose so you wouldn’t have to leave the castle and go deep in the woods. As the countess said, it wasn’t necessary to join Elena. Elena worked here for about a year now so she was capable to do it on her own. The meeting was short yet you were glad to spend some time with your countess.

Unfortunately, Lady Dimitrescu hasn’t talked to you since then. The fact that she isn’t around you anymore like she used to be makes you feel down. You loved watching her sneaking here and there to get a look on you which you heartbeat faster. You… missed her smile. And probably her too. The saddest part that you did nothing wrong and yet she decided to ignore you after your private meeting.

Wherever you were Alcina appeared there. But now you barely get to see her. You would be lucky enough if you notice her somewhere far from you once per week. Apparently, Lady Dimitrescu is a busy woman. Yet still something about her sudden disappear made your heart break into million tiny pieces.

You surely continued your job to avoid any problems with other maids. They acted suspiciously toward you after your visit to Lady Dimitrescu’s chamber. They gazed at you with hate and evil flames danced behind their eyes. You tried your best to prevent any further conflicts and escaped maids’ room as soon as possible. Luckily, you got a chance.

Today is your turn to clean the mess in the library. Gladly, the library is located further than other rooms where other maids clean. You put the books back on their places, sighing. Daniela is the one who spends most of her time here in the library and the room turns into an absolute chaos after her visits. Seems like Daniela loves romantic stories. You chuckle to yourself.

“Whoops!”

You hear the book drops on the floor with a loud noise and turn your head toward the sound to see Cassandra. She stands besides the bookshelf with a devilish grin upon her lips.

“I’ll put it back.”

You immediately head off to the dropped book, picking it up as you hear another book smashes against the floor right before you.

“Oh, of course you will. Or Mother will punish you you and make the… mmmm… divine wine out of you! Ha-ha-ha!”

Cassandra laughs. You frown and kneel to pick up another book. Cassandra laughs maniacally, making another book fall from the shelf. You stay quiet, not being able to say anything to the best hunter in this damn castle.

“Keep it up, sucker!”

Cassandra keeps laughing, holding her stomach as she grabs a huge book and drops it on the floor with all of her force.

“Aw, was it too loud for such a wuss like you? Here, take this! Ha-ha-ha!”

The girl slides her arm inside the bookshelf and swipes all the books down, making them smash right on your back. You cover your head with your arms as you whine in pain, shutting your eyes. Few books were quite heavy and hit your back with the corners of book covers.

“Cassandra! You little brat.”

You hear Lady Dimitrescu’s sternly tone which sends shivers down your spine. You feel sweat on your forehead from stress and slowly open your eyes to look up. Indeed it is her. Your lips curl into a soft smile that fades away as soon as you catch Alcina’s gaze on you.

“Sorry, Mother.”

Cassandra apologizes and looks down at her feet.

“I’ll see you later, daughter. We have some things to discuss.”

Lady Dimitrescu says, pointing at the door.

“Yes, Mother.”

“You’re dismissed.”

You watch Cassandra nods, turning into a swarm of flies before vanishing away from the library. You sigh, quickly picking up a huge amount of books that certainly fall from your arms.

“Let me help you, Draga.”

Alcina says softly as she kneels in front of you, picking up few books and placing them on their places. You look up at her and gasp. Lady Dimitrescu smiles at you and raises an eyebrow.

“Looks like you’ve seen a ghost.”

She chuckles, helping you with books.

“Sorry, My Lady. I’ll handle it.”

Lady Dimitrescu nods and gets on her feet. She gently moves one of the books closer to you with the tip of her glossy black shoe. Your eyes trail her leg from her slim ankle to her face and you blush. Alcina stands before you with her gloved hands gracefully placed on her hips. You can’t see her face under the shadow from her huge hat but you notice her sparkling golden eyes.

The countess takes a seat on the armchair, crossing her legs as she watches you gently placing every book on it’s place. She patiently waits until you finish your job. Lady Dimitrescu sighs, leaning a bit closer as she places her crossed arms on her own knee.

“Did it hurt?”

She asks, keeping her eyes on you.

“What do you mea-“

“I repeat… Did it hurt, Y/N? I saw books falling down on your back.”

She was here all the time?

Alcina asks and takes a deep breath as she starts to run out of patience. She hates repeating the same thing over and over again. You shake your head, slowly getting up to put the last book on it’s place and turn around to face Lady Dimitrescu. You feel dizzy now and put your hand on the shelf for some stability.

“Lies.”

The countess says and pats her laps, inviting you. You blush and walks closer, making yourself comfortable on Alcina’s meaty thighs. She takes off her glove, running her bare hand through your hair, soothing you. Lady Dimitrescu frowns as she feels warm sticky liquid under her fingers.

“Ah, dear. You’re bleeding.”

She says and looks down at you. You quickly place your hand on the back of your head and pull it away to see the blood on your fingers.

“I… I feel fine! I promise, My Lady.”

You say, trying to reassure Lady Dimitrescu and she raises her thin eyebrow at you. She gently takes your wrist, moving your hand closer to her face. You watch her without blinking as your cheeks turn bright red. The countess slightly sticks out her tongue, licking the blood off your fingers. She closes her eyes, humming.

“My my, you taste so divine, Draga.”

She purrs, looking directly into your frightened eyes.

“Oh…”

Lady Dimitrescu chuckles at you and then licks her own finger which are covered in your blood. She keeps her eyes on you, making your heart skip a beat.

“Come. I will take care of your wound. I do not want my best maid to be sick.”

Best maid?

You frown.

“It’s fine. Francis will take care of it, My Lady.”

“Francis? The main maid? You are such a fool, Y/N. She does not even know how to stitch!”

Lady Dimitrescu snaps at you. She sighs.

“My apologies. She will not be able to stick you, Y/N. If it is needed of course.”

Lady Dimitrescu shakes her head and gets on her feet, gently taking your hand. You pull away and wrap your arms around yourself as you look at the countess.

“How dar-“

“My Lady, I’ll be okay! E-everything heals really quick on me.”

You try to resist and Alcina looks at you with anger in her eyes. You absolutely don’t want other maids to see you with Lady Dimitrescu by your side while you both head to her chamber. You know they’ll tease you. They’ll make fun of you. Or even worse. The countess hisses, grabbing your wrist as she drags you across the hall to her chamber. She stays quiet with you trotting by her side.

Lady Dimitrescu opens the door, throwing you inside the familiar room and you almost collapse on the carpet. She looks down at you and her eyes soften within a second. She kneels before you, placing her hand on your pinkish cheek, gently caressing your skin with her gloved thumb.

“I’m sorry, Draga.”

Alcina whispers.

“It’s… okay, My Lady. Um… Where’s the first aid kit? I can do it myself.”

You look around and she reaches for the first aid kit under her bed.

“Sit.”

She commands and you nod, sitting on the edge of her bed, placing your hands on your knees as you stay steady. Lady Dimitrescu takes some amount of cotton and small bottle of rubbing alcohol and sits behind you. She takes off her gloves, sterilizing her hands first. You wince at the strong smell that saluted your nose.

“Be patient, Draga. I’ll be quick and gentle. I promise.”

Lady Dimitrescu whispers against your ear and you shiver. She giggles, adding some of rubbing alcohol on the cotton and places it against your wounded head. You hiss, pulling away from the countess but she wraps her arm around your shoulders, pressing you against her large breasts. You blush, drowning in them. Alcina smirks to herself and blows at your wound, making it easier.

She runs her finger tips down your spine and you whine.

“We should take a look at your back, Y/N. Seems like it did hurt a lot. Although, if you decide to resist this time… you will be punished. Understand?”

Alcina asks coldly, rubbing your shoulder and you nod. She slowly unbuttons your dress, making sure not to push too hard on your back. The countess makes herself more comfortable, placing her legs on both sides of your hips so you sit between her thighs now. You blush once even more, your cheeks burn with crimson red so you bow your head down and close your eyes.

“There we are.”

“How is my back, My Lady?”

You ask nervously.

“Bruised. But you will survive. We are a little bit late but I’ll press ice against your skin. Stay here, Draga.”

Alcina says and gets up, walking over the tiny old fridge to grab some ice cubes. She places them in the napkin and returns to you, sitting by your side. She gently presses ice cubes against your bruised skin and you whine because of suddenly coldness. Lady Dimitrescu places her hand on your chest, not letting you move any further from the ice cubes.

«It’s cold.”

You mumble and shiver. Alcina can notice goosebumps all over your spine and smiles. She kisses the top of your head, moving ice cubes to another bruise, making you whine again.

“Hush. There’s only one left.”

Lady Dimitrescu says softly.

“May I ask you a question, My Lady?”

You look up at her and she gives you a nod.

“You may, Draga.”

“That. What does that mean?”

You keep watching her, noticing her lips curl into a smile again.

“It means Dear in Romanian.”

You gasp quietly and immediately look away, making Alcina chuckle. She presses ice cubes on your last bruise. She pulls away her hand from your chest and starts gently caressing your bare back with her forefinger.

“You did a good job, Y/N. All done. And… I would like to apologize for cutting off our tiny private wine party last time. Mind joining me now?”

She gives you a charming smile and you blush, nodding.

“Sure, My Lady.”

[roohuh]

Ancient Runes with Professor Gaunt

Part 5 of the Obliviate series

Ominis x mc

Summary: You attend ancient runes class taught by Ominis’ older brother with Sebastian.

Warnings: none

Ancient runes with Ominis’ older brother was not as dreadful as you had expected. Actually the class was downright pleasant. Besides Sebastian’s withering glare fixed on the young professor everyone seemed quite taken with him. The man was charming, intelligent, and made a rather dull topic interesting. You, despite your best efforts, can not shake the strange feeling you get from him. As the lecture concludes Sebastian practically packs your books for you creating a human shield between you and Professor Gaunt.

“I am alright Seb.” You quietly laugh.

“Let’s just get out of here.” he growls under his breath. You roll eyes in mock annoyance inwardly amused by his protective stance. Waiting by the exit, Ominis listens to your movements. You can not help but blush as you notice him there leaning casually against the door frame patiently waiting for you.

“MC? Do you have a moment?” The Professor places a hand on your shoulder stopping you as you leave. “I have heard you have a particular interest in magic from the early days. Here, from my personal library.” He says handing you a book:Magic in Scotland during the early 1300s. Your eyes light up at the treasure. Ever since your fifth year you had spent a majority of your free time researching ancient magic in an effort to hone your power and to learn better how to use it. Giving him a cautious look you take the gift,

“Thank you professor. I have been searching for this very book.” With a warm smile and nod he replies,

“I am glad to be of help then.” Quickly turning you retreat with Ominis and Sebastian.

“What was that? What did he give you?” Ominis drills.

“Oh, just a book I have been looking for on ancient magic. I wonder how he knew I wanted it.” You fiddle with the book as the three of you walk in silence eventually you work up the courage to ask the question which has been sitting in the back of your mind

“Ominis? Why do you and your family not get along?”

“My family is obsessed with pure blood status. Being direct descendants from Salazar Slytherin my family believe anyone not of a ‘pureblood’ is lesser then they. They go to great lengths to hold to that belief.”

“And you believe them capable of violence?” you press

“I know they are not only capable violence but one could go as far as calling it their favorite pastime. Do not be so easily fooled by my brother's warm smile and gifts underneath lies a deranged vile inhuman soul. For him to have the audacity to even speak to you after what he has done?” Ominis stops shaking with rage. Sebastian places a hand on his friends shoulder,

“She is safe. I was watching her, we are going to figure this out.”

“Do you think he is the one who erased my memories?”

“Did you not hear him at lunch? He practically rubbed my nose in it.” Ominis snaps back at you then sighs

“You do not understand. But how could you; he has erased everything.”

“MC you need to trust us on this. That bloke is bad news. We should figure out their game before they beat us at it.” Sebastian pleads. You shrug

“ I want to understand. And I need to soon before my ignorance gets me in more trouble.” Ominis nods in agreement,

“Then tonight. Will you meet me in the undercroft and I will tell you anything you wish to know.”

“Alright.” You murmur shyly. Sebasitian laughs taking the book from your hands,

“While the two of you have your date I will be checking this book for any hex ol’ brother dearest may have left you.” you frown at the thief

“Fine, but be careful with it. I really have been searching for this book. It is rather expensive and hard to find.”

“As if I need to be told how to treat a book.” He scoffs back.

The rest of the day moved slowly. You keep staring at Ominis wondering what he will tell you. Anything is rather open ended but you have a million questions. You study his beauty marks during dinner trying to imagine how your life was with him before.

“I can feel you staring.” He interrupts your thoughts.

“Oh I’m sorry.” You quickly look back to your still full plate in front of you.

“If it is a loving gaze I am all for it but I feel more like a bug under a glass.” You laugh at his comment and shrug

“There are some very interesting insects out there. You, I think, would be a praying mantis.”

“Is that so?” He chuckles

“Since you already have an opinion formed of me it is only fair I form one of you so I have worked extra hard on figuring out the important character traits.”

“Such as bug type?” He questions

“Most assuredly.”

“Well then hurry up and finish your dinner so we can go to the undercroft and I will be able to defend myself against some of these wild assumptions.” You blush furiously as you turn to your food.

[wallf1ower]

@leaveblackkbrosalone hey emery, i'm really sorry that i never finished that post i was supposed to make about how to understand compilers/assembly. i got SLAMMED with work/life; literally everything is insane right now, and i'm not sure if or when i'll be able to do it anymore. however, it's been hovering in the back of my mind, even though i haven't had the brainspace to organize my thoughts into a whole post. so i thought i would quickly share my best study technique that i use in order to learn this stuff, in case maybe we learn the same way and i can help you in that way.

basically, i get a physical book on the subject, and download all the material i will need on my computer for the day (ie a syntax guide for the language i'll be using, locally download any digital tutorials i want to follow, import any libraries i will need for my code, make sure to download the playlist i'll want to listen to while i work, etc). then, i take my laptop, book, a notebook & pen, a folding chair, my headphones, and some water/snacks out to the nearest natural park. and i sit there all day with no internet (and only a flip phone for emergencies) and nothing else to do to occupy my mind. sometimes i don't even bring my laptop - i just write everything (even my code) in a notebook and then test any code i wrote when i get home. this way i am comfortable, relaxed, getting my vitamin d, and entirely free of distractions. it's amazing how much more at ease i feel when i'm outside, surrounded by nature. i find that being in a relaxed state is key to learning, for me at least.

if i need an answer to something i'm stuck on while i work, i can't google it - i have to physically flip through my book, or scroll through my downloaded guides, and look for it. i find that this slower, extra effort it takes to find something, makes me more likely to remember the answer, since it took real work to find it. whereas when i just google something or ask chatgpt and get an instant answer that i instantly use, i also instantly forget it. this system also helps me think through things when i'm stuck on them for longer than i would otherwise, since i can't just get an answer from google the second i don't know something. i find that this is key for people (like me) who lack self-confidence in their own abilities to figure out an answer - if you don't believe in yourself, you are much more likely to quickly give up and turn to the internet for all your answers, and never learn to think things through for yourself, so you always feel confused no matter how much you learn. but when that isn't an option, and you have no choice but to sit there and think about it for a while, you will find that you are actually capable of figuring out way more than you thought you could.

if i really can't figure something out, i write down the question so i can google it later, and move on. i find this delayed system really helps me from giving up entirely when i get stuck on something, since otherwise i can often slip into a "what's the point" mindset, or from exhausting all my energy by refusing to quit on this one problem i can't solve. instead, i do what i can for the study session, and i come away with more work done than what i had before, and i also know exactly which parts of the topic i do and don't understand. this way, when i get back to somewhere with wifi (sometimes i just move to a coffee shop or the local library) i know exactly which areas i need to topic to complete my understanding, and i know how to update my materials so that i'll have everything i need when i'm ready to go sit in the forest again.

working outside like this has really helped me more than anything else to improve my sustained focus, consistency, and ability to understand complex things. the biggest thing for me is that it keeps me away from distractions. i find that when i always have internet, i get pulled in a million different directions by all the cool and interesting-looking things i want to learn, and i never get anything done because all my effort and attention is spread too thin.

so, if you want to learn something like assembly, here's the roadmap i would suggest: first, learn basic linux and programming in c. then, learn about computer hardware and how it works, especially the cpu. then, learn about computer processes, kernels, and machine code/assembly language. if i were you, i would get a book for each topic (you can check them out one at a time from the library) or find a tutorial guide that you can download and do offline if that's what you prefer (although i strongly prefer books, but that's just me. everyone learns differently!), plan and gather everything you will need, and then make a habit of consistently putting yourself somewhere with no internet, no smartphone, no distractions even available to you at all. if you do this even a few times a week, i think you will be amazed at how quickly you start to learn and truly absorb & understand the information given to you.

sorry i couldn't do my full writeup :[ i still want to, i'm just genuinely so overwhelmed right now; things are absolutely insane on my end, and my brain is completely depleted. i just don't have it in me. but once things slow down, i would like to start writing more tutorial/explaining-type posts again, so i might end up doing it in the future. it's just been a long time since we talked about it and i didn't want you to think i just forgot and blew you off. i've been thinking about it!! i never forgot! life is just crazy sometimes. so yeah, sorry :( but i really hope maybe this study tip could still help/provide you some value! i literally do this every day, lol. it's good for my mental health to decompress and it's also just such a good way for me to focus and learn.

[lesmislettersdaily]

Works Corresponding To Words

Volume 1: Fantine; Book 1: A Just Man; Chapter 4: Works Corresponding To Words

His conversation was gay and affable. He put himself on a level with the two old women who had passed their lives beside him. When he laughed, it was the laugh of a schoolboy. Madame Magloire liked to call him Your Grace [Votre Grandeur]. One day he rose from his armchair, and went to his library in search of a book. This book was on one of the upper shelves. As the bishop was rather short of stature, he could not reach it. “Madame Magloire,” said he, “fetch me a chair. My greatness [grandeur] does not reach as far as that shelf.”

One of his distant relatives, Madame la Comtesse de Lô, rarely allowed an opportunity to escape of enumerating, in his presence, what she designated as “the expectations” of her three sons. She had numerous relatives, who were very old and near to death, and of whom her sons were the natural heirs. The youngest of the three was to receive from a grandaunt a good hundred thousand livres of income; the second was the heir by entail to the title of the Duke, his uncle; the eldest was to succeed to the peerage of his grandfather. The Bishop was accustomed to listen in silence to these innocent and pardonable maternal boasts. On one occasion, however, he appeared to be more thoughtful than usual, while Madame de Lô was relating once again the details of all these inheritances and all these “expectations.” She interrupted herself impatiently: “Mon Dieu, cousin! What are you thinking about?” “I am thinking,” replied the Bishop, “of a singular remark, which is to be found, I believe, in St. Augustine,—‘Place your hopes in the man from whom you do not inherit.’”

At another time, on receiving a notification of the decease of a gentleman of the country-side, wherein not only the dignities of the dead man, but also the feudal and noble qualifications of all his relatives, spread over an entire page: “What a stout back Death has!” he exclaimed. “What a strange burden of titles is cheerfully imposed on him, and how much wit must men have, in order thus to press the tomb into the service of vanity!”

He was gifted, on occasion, with a gentle raillery, which almost always concealed a serious meaning. In the course of one Lent, a youthful vicar came to D——, and preached in the cathedral. He was tolerably eloquent. The subject of his sermon was charity. He urged the rich to give to the poor, in order to avoid hell, which he depicted in the most frightful manner of which he was capable, and to win paradise, which he represented as charming and desirable. Among the audience there was a wealthy retired merchant, who was somewhat of a usurer, named M. Géborand, who had amassed two millions in the manufacture of coarse cloth, serges, and woollen galloons. Never in his whole life had M. Géborand bestowed alms on any poor wretch. After the delivery of that sermon, it was observed that he gave a sou every Sunday to the poor old beggar-women at the door of the cathedral. There were six of them to share it. One day the Bishop caught sight of him in the act of bestowing this charity, and said to his sister, with a smile, “There is M. Géborand purchasing paradise for a sou.”

When it was a question of charity, he was not to be rebuffed even by a refusal, and on such occasions he gave utterance to remarks which induced reflection. Once he was begging for the poor in a drawing-room of the town; there was present the Marquis de Champtercier, a wealthy and avaricious old man, who contrived to be, at one and the same time, an ultra-royalist and an ultra-Voltairian. This variety of man has actually existed. When the Bishop came to him, he touched his arm, “You must give me something, M. le Marquis.” The Marquis turned round and answered dryly, “I have poor people of my own, Monseigneur.” “Give them to me,” replied the Bishop.

One day he preached the following sermon in the cathedral:—

“My very dear brethren, my good friends, there are thirteen hundred and twenty thousand peasants’ dwellings in France which have but three openings; eighteen hundred and seventeen thousand hovels which have but two openings, the door and one window; and three hundred and forty-six thousand cabins besides which have but one opening, the door. And this arises from a thing which is called the tax on doors and windows. Just put poor families, old women and little children, in those buildings, and behold the fevers and maladies which result! Alas! God gives air to men; the law sells it to them. I do not blame the law, but I bless God. In the department of the Isère, in the Var, in the two departments of the Alpes, the Hautes, and the Basses, the peasants have not even wheelbarrows; they transport their manure on the backs of men; they have no candles, and they burn resinous sticks, and bits of rope dipped in pitch. That is the state of affairs throughout the whole of the hilly country of Dauphiné. They make bread for six months at one time; they bake it with dried cow-dung. In the winter they break this bread up with an axe, and they soak it for twenty-four hours, in order to render it eatable. My brethren, have pity! behold the suffering on all sides of you!”

Born a Provençal, he easily familiarized himself with the dialect of the south. He said, “En bé! moussu, sés sagé?” as in lower Languedoc; “Onté anaras passa?” as in the Basses-Alpes; “Puerte un bouen moutu embe un bouen fromage grase,” as in upper Dauphiné. This pleased the people extremely, and contributed not a little to win him access to all spirits. He was perfectly at home in the thatched cottage and in the mountains. He understood how to say the grandest things in the most vulgar of idioms. As he spoke all tongues, he entered into all hearts.

Moreover, he was the same towards people of the world and towards the lower classes. He condemned nothing in haste and without taking circumstances into account. He said, “Examine the road over which the fault has passed.”

Being, as he described himself with a smile, an ex-sinner, he had none of the asperities of austerity, and he professed, with a good deal of distinctness, and without the frown of the ferociously virtuous, a doctrine which may be summed up as follows:—

“Man has upon him his flesh, which is at once his burden and his temptation. He drags it with him and yields to it. He must watch it, check it, repress it, and obey it only at the last extremity. There may be some fault even in this obedience; but the fault thus committed is venial; it is a fall, but a fall on the knees which may terminate in prayer.

“To be a saint is the exception; to be an upright man is the rule. Err, fall, sin if you will, but be upright.

“The least possible sin is the law of man. No sin at all is the dream of the angel. All which is terrestrial is subject to sin. Sin is a gravitation.”

When he saw everyone exclaiming very loudly, and growing angry very quickly, “Oh! oh!” he said, with a smile; “to all appearance, this is a great crime which all the world commits. These are hypocrisies which have taken fright, and are in haste to make protest and to put themselves under shelter.”

He was indulgent towards women and poor people, on whom the burden of human society rest. He said, “The faults of women, of children, of the feeble, the indigent, and the ignorant, are the fault of the husbands, the fathers, the masters, the strong, the rich, and the wise.”

He said, moreover, “Teach those who are ignorant as many things as possible; society is culpable, in that it does not afford instruction gratis; it is responsible for the night which it produces. This soul is full of shadow; sin is therein committed. The guilty one is not the person who has committed the sin, but the person who has created the shadow.”

It will be perceived that he had a peculiar manner of his own of judging things: I suspect that he obtained it from the Gospel.

One day he heard a criminal case, which was in preparation and on the point of trial, discussed in a drawing-room. A wretched man, being at the end of his resources, had coined counterfeit money, out of love for a woman, and for the child which he had had by her. Counterfeiting was still punishable with death at that epoch. The woman had been arrested in the act of passing the first false piece made by the man. She was held, but there were no proofs except against her. She alone could accuse her lover, and destroy him by her confession. She denied; they insisted. She persisted in her denial. Thereupon an idea occurred to the attorney for the crown. He invented an infidelity on the part of the lover, and succeeded, by means of fragments of letters cunningly presented, in persuading the unfortunate woman that she had a rival, and that the man was deceiving her. Thereupon, exasperated by jealousy, she denounced her lover, confessed all, proved all.

The man was ruined. He was shortly to be tried at Aix with his accomplice. They were relating the matter, and each one was expressing enthusiasm over the cleverness of the magistrate. By bringing jealousy into play, he had caused the truth to burst forth in wrath, he had educed the justice of revenge. The Bishop listened to all this in silence. When they had finished, he inquired,—

“Where are this man and woman to be tried?”

“At the Court of Assizes.”

He went on, “And where will the advocate of the crown be tried?”

A tragic event occurred at D—— A man was condemned to death for murder. He was a wretched fellow, not exactly educated, not exactly ignorant, who had been a mountebank at fairs, and a writer for the public. The town took a great interest in the trial. On the eve of the day fixed for the execution of the condemned man, the chaplain of the prison fell ill. A priest was needed to attend the criminal in his last moments. They sent for the curé. It seems that he refused to come, saying, “That is no affair of mine. I have nothing to do with that unpleasant task, and with that mountebank: I, too, am ill; and besides, it is not my place.” This reply was reported to the Bishop, who said, “Monsieur le Curé is right: it is not his place; it is mine.”

He went instantly to the prison, descended to the cell of the “mountebank,” called him by name, took him by the hand, and spoke to him. He passed the entire day with him, forgetful of food and sleep, praying to God for the soul of the condemned man, and praying the condemned man for his own. He told him the best truths, which are also the most simple. He was father, brother, friend; he was bishop only to bless. He taught him everything, encouraged and consoled him. The man was on the point of dying in despair. Death was an abyss to him. As he stood trembling on its mournful brink, he recoiled with horror. He was not sufficiently ignorant to be absolutely indifferent. His condemnation, which had been a profound shock, had, in a manner, broken through, here and there, that wall which separates us from the mystery of things, and which we call life. He gazed incessantly beyond this world through these fatal breaches, and beheld only darkness. The Bishop made him see light.

On the following day, when they came to fetch the unhappy wretch, the Bishop was still there. He followed him, and exhibited himself to the eyes of the crowd in his purple camail and with his episcopal cross upon his neck, side by side with the criminal bound with cords.

He mounted the tumbril with him, he mounted the scaffold with him. The sufferer, who had been so gloomy and cast down on the preceding day, was radiant. He felt that his soul was reconciled, and he hoped in God. The Bishop embraced him, and at the moment when the knife was about to fall, he said to him: “God raises from the dead him whom man slays; he whom his brothers have rejected finds his Father once more. Pray, believe, enter into life: the Father is there.” When he descended from the scaffold, there was something in his look which made the people draw aside to let him pass. They did not know which was most worthy of admiration, his pallor or his serenity. On his return to the humble dwelling, which he designated, with a smile, as his palace, he said to his sister, “I have just officiated pontifically.”

Since the most sublime things are often those which are the least understood, there were people in the town who said, when commenting on this conduct of the Bishop, “It is affectation.”

This, however, was a remark which was confined to the drawing-rooms. The populace, which perceives no jest in holy deeds, was touched, and admired him.

As for the Bishop, it was a shock to him to have beheld the guillotine, and it was a long time before he recovered from it.

In fact, when the scaffold is there, all erected and prepared, it has something about it which produces hallucination. One may feel a certain indifference to the death penalty, one may refrain from pronouncing upon it, from saying yes or no, so long as one has not seen a guillotine with one’s own eyes: but if one encounters one of them, the shock is violent; one is forced to decide, and to take part for or against. Some admire it, like de Maistre; others execrate it, like Beccaria. The guillotine is the concretion of the law; it is called vindicate; it is not neutral, and it does not permit you to remain neutral. He who sees it shivers with the most mysterious of shivers. All social problems erect their interrogation point around this chopping-knife. The scaffold is a vision. The scaffold is not a piece of carpentry; the scaffold is not a machine; the scaffold is not an inert bit of mechanism constructed of wood, iron and cords.

It seems as though it were a being, possessed of I know not what sombre initiative; one would say that this piece of carpenter’s work saw, that this machine heard, that this mechanism understood, that this wood, this iron, and these cords were possessed of will. In the frightful meditation into which its presence casts the soul the scaffold appears in terrible guise, and as though taking part in what is going on. The scaffold is the accomplice of the executioner; it devours, it eats flesh, it drinks blood; the scaffold is a sort of monster fabricated by the judge and the carpenter, a spectre which seems to live with a horrible vitality composed of all the death which it has inflicted.

Therefore, the impression was terrible and profound; on the day following the execution, and on many succeeding days, the Bishop appeared to be crushed. The almost violent serenity of the funereal moment had disappeared; the phantom of social justice tormented him. He, who generally returned from all his deeds with a radiant satisfaction, seemed to be reproaching himself. At times he talked to himself, and stammered lugubrious monologues in a low voice. This is one which his sister overheard one evening and preserved: “I did not think that it was so monstrous. It is wrong to become absorbed in the divine law to such a degree as not to perceive human law. Death belongs to God alone. By what right do men touch that unknown thing?”

In course of time these impressions weakened and probably vanished. Nevertheless, it was observed that the Bishop thenceforth avoided passing the place of execution.

M. Myriel could be summoned at any hour to the bedside of the sick and dying. He did not ignore the fact that therein lay his greatest duty and his greatest labor. Widowed and orphaned families had no need to summon him; he came of his own accord. He understood how to sit down and hold his peace for long hours beside the man who had lost the wife of his love, of the mother who had lost her child. As he knew the moment for silence he knew also the moment for speech. Oh, admirable consoler! He sought not to efface sorrow by forgetfulness, but to magnify and dignify it by hope. He said:—

“Have a care of the manner in which you turn towards the dead. Think not of that which perishes. Gaze steadily. You will perceive the living light of your well-beloved dead in the depths of heaven.” He knew that faith is wholesome. He sought to counsel and calm the despairing man, by pointing out to him the resigned man, and to transform the grief which gazes upon a grave by showing him the grief which fixes its gaze upon a star.

[qingxinis]

jealousy - zhongli, albedo x gn reader

anon asked: hello! same anon with the xiao and childe rqt. :) it was great! love it! came back to ask if i could have the same rqt but with zhongli and albedo, please? ty!

hii again anon! tysm for requesting again, i really enjoyed writing the scenarios!! although i am not very used to writing albedo (or any genshin character, that’s my first time doing this T-T), i am happy to see someone request him and zhongli!! i hope yall enjoy it <3

gn reader x zhongli, gn reader x albedo sfw word count: around 500 each warnings: eavesdropping ? but that's it i believe!

zhongli

it was a peculiar feeling, this thing mortals called jealousy. 

it was an overwhelming feeling as well, consuming every part of zhongli’s mind, only growing stronger with the passing of time. his throat felt tight, along with the million words he wanted to say to your pursuiter, but never came out. what was this feeling, after all? zhongli had never felt this before, and he made a mental note of studying this so-called “jealousy” afterwards.

zhongli sipped his tea once again, looking at you, who was talking to your friend. it was quite obvious what was happening, even for zhongli — your friend wanted to ask you out, and wouldn’t take “no” for an answer. you weren’t even that close to this friend, as you had met them a few weeks ago and since then, they had been infatuated with you. zhongli couldn’t blame them for being infatuated, as he could say the very same thing about himself. but this? this was too much.

“y/n, are you really sure you don’t wanna go out today? perhaps tomorrow, or even later? i’d be willing to wait, you know” they said, apparently oblivious to your uncomfort. 

they already knew about zhongli too, and yet didn’t seem to care at all he was there to watch it all. before their arrival, you both were drinking some tea at heyu tea house, enjoying the performances as zhongli told you curious facts about liyue. everything was fine before, so why did they have to show up? 

“ah… i’m quite busy recently, i’m afraid I won't be able to hang out with you…” you replied, turning back to sit again with zhongli. 

yet, that rascal decided to grab your wrist as you were leaving, and that was the breaking point to zhongli. he slowly put down his tea and got up, having enough of this discussion. your friend backed up a little bit, but tried to maintain his facade. you were confused, too. zhongli was a peaceful and polite man, but you couldn’t see the usual calm in his eyes.

“aren’t you aware they are saying ‘no’? shall you still bother them with such idle chatter?” he said, staring into your friend’s eyes. your friend never heard zhongli talk, but it seemed like being questioned by him made them quite frightened. “or should i explain what ‘no’ means?”

your friend gulped, staring between you and zhongli back and forth. they surely hadn’t anticipated zhongli would step up, and he knew it. maybe seeing the tall man make his way towards them was enough to make them feel afraid, and maybe cornered. perhaps then they would stop bothering you?

“uhm… yes, now that i look at it, you don’t seem interested… sorry for bothering you, y/n” your friend said, and quickly made their way out of the tea house. 

you looked at zhongli and gave him a mischievous smile, knowing fully well what had happened. he only smiled back, the usual calm coming back to his eyes now that your pursuiter was gone. zhongli grabbed your hand and guided you back to the table, sitting beside you with a relaxed figure. 

“it seems like the tea is still warm. well then, shall we continue with the tales of liyue?”

albedo

albedo never thought he’d be doing something like this.

this was just supposed to be a short trip to the library, albedo thought. but what am i doing? he wondered, pushing himself to the darkest and most hidden corner he could find, just so he could hear what was happening. he was quite surprised to hear your voice while looking for some alchemy textbooks sucrose asked him to get for her, and was about to greet you, until he heard another voice. now, albedo was stuck between two bookshelves, trying to perhaps find out what this was about.

“...but this is so interesting to hear! say, do you have more to tell me about sumeru academia?” you said, voice full of excitement. it was one of the things he liked about you, your endless excitement over the smallest things. 

maybe this was considered eavesdropping, and albedo knew it. but it’s for research reasons, of course, he thought. it was always a research, everything involving you. it was a research for both you and him, as he was quite new to all these feelings he suddenly found himself having. albedo wasn’t one for relationships, but everything you did… it was fascinating. it made him want to give it a try, for once. maybe it wasn’t a waste of energy and time if it was you, after all.

“i’d love to tell you more! what you say, we go out for a date- i mean, a dinner, and i could tell you more-” the voice said, but a sudden loud noise made the library ground tremble. 

you stopped listening and went to look for the source of noise with worry, just to find textbooks on the ground, next to albedo’s emotionless figure. seeing your face, albedo let out a small smile, which quickly disappeared at the sight of your other companion, a young sumeru scholar who had just showed up in mondstadt. you lower yourself, trying to help him with the mess he had just made. this was unlike him, and he knew you knew, but maybe albedo just accidentally stumbled over himself and let the books fall, right?

“hi, albedo! didn’t see you there, are you fine?” he quickly nodded with a slight smile, lowering himself as well to help with his own mess. 

maybe it was subconscious, but his hand quickly made its way to yours, brushing it lightly while grabbing the books. you looked at him with blushed cheeks, while he kept on collecting the books, trying to hold a smile. you quickly recollected yourself, grabbing the rest of the heavy textbooks.

“do you need help taking these to sucrose?” you offered, to the sumeru scholar’s dismay. he was about to protest, until albedo looked at him for a brief moment, and then back to you.

“i’d enjoy your help, if you don’t mind” he replied.

albedo knew he was fully capable of lifting those books alone, but who was he to deny your help? and he needed to find out why his heart felt so tight when you were next to the scholar. maybe he could make some notes about these feelings later. as you two left the library, you replied with a soft “i’m sorry, but i think i’ll pass” to the sumeru scholar. albedo’s heart felt lighter, and now he could focus on accompanying you.

after all, time spent with you was never lost time. 

[stickyy]

Can I have a gn reader x Aizawa? Maybe a college AU where Aizawa doesn't know how to handle his crush because he was awkward when he was young and ended up a bully who was handsy. Thank you!

EEEE this is my first ask so i hope you like it anon! :D thanks so much for requesting!

DISCLAIMER: i do not condone or encourage any of the behavior outlined in the following text. this is a work of fiction, and should be treated as such. :)

wordcount: 2299

warnings: dubcon, verbal abuse, slight dumbification, forced oral sex, brief mentions of gagging/vomit (doesn’t actually happen), aizawa is an law student asshole, quirkless!AU, ooc? more likely than u think

notes: im not like a writer so when i put this in word count and saw it was 2k words i gasped-

MIDTERM

Without a doubt, Aizawa’s the smartest student in your Civil Procedure lecture. You admire him; you’re both first years, but he already has an incredible work ethic and results to show for it. He works two part-time jobs to help pay for school (alongside his impressive scholarship), studies into the late hours of the night (mostly due to his being kept awake very loud roommate), and, despite a bad habit of regularly showing up to your 8 am class slightly hungover, still manages to produce the top marks in the class. 

You’re envious of him, because you’re the exact opposite. Your tuition is paid in full by your parents, you have a wonderfully quiet apartment all to yourself, and you study as best you know how, only to practically fail every assignment. You wish you could be surprised, but the material is a dreadfully bland concoction of boring procedure and esoteric theory that you rarely get further than three or four pages into a chapter. You want to like law, you really do, but there’s something about the intricacies of drafting lawsuits that goes in one ear and out the other. It’s no surprise that you sought out Aizawa’s help, desperate to at least pass the class with a decent grade. 

You wish you hadn’t. 

You don’t understand what you do that bothers him so deeply, but something about you coaxes cruelty from somewhere dark inside of him. You always scurry towards the back of the lecture hall to grab a seat next to him, doing your best to be quiet and unassuming, but he shoots you a venomous glare or a soft flurry of harsh words. And you get it, to an extent- some days you walk into class chattering a little too loudly on the phone, and on others you loudly shuffle around in your book bag to try finding the notes that you attempted to start for this lecture (if you even brought them that day). You know it’s annoying, but you also know you don’t deserve the downright verbal abuse he throws at you for it.

“It’s hard to take notes if you forget your textbook. Try being prepared for once,” he’ll sigh as he slides his textbook to you. Like a good student, he took notes for lecture the night before, but it still took some convincing for him to spare you his textbook.

“Do you ever shut up?” He’ll interrupt you as you babble about your difficulties understanding the most recent lecture. You want to retort, tell him off for being rude, but the words die in your throat; he radiates an annoying apathy that makes you doubt the efficacy of anything you say to him.

“You wouldn’t fail every assignment if you actually studied. Or maybe, you’re actually just stupid?” He’ll quip as you clutch your paper, a red ‘47’ scrawled in the upper corner of the page littered with your professor's critiques and question marks. By contrast, Aizawa’s paper is pristine, donning a singular red mark of ‘98, nice work!’.

With a well placed glare and the sour baritone of his voice, laced with exhaustion, it’s always enough to make your stomach drop from shame and embarrassment. Under normal circumstances, you’d never allow anyone to speak to you that way, but your grade was a dire situation, and with the midterm upcoming, you forcefully swallow your pride and ask him for his help.

You have to beg, but Aizawa agrees to tutor you the day before the midterm. This grade is a make or break for the class- if you do poorly on this exam, you’ll have to drop the lecture to salvage your gpa, putting you half a semester behind your peers. It’s motivation enough to deal with his poor attitude, and the two of you end up reviewing in an empty studying room on the top floor of the library. You began the session alert and determined to catch up, but studying with him shows you just how far behind you are. The textbook sounds like foreign poetry coming from his mouth; Aizawa is nothing short of eloquent when explaining the complexities of something as boring as filing lawsuits, and you spend most of the two hours spent just zoning out, completely unable to focus.

“You’re just wasting my time at this point.” The break in his cadence snaps you out of your trance, unfocused eyes meeting his tired ones, slightly lidded in annoyance, “Are you even trying to remember the material? Or are you just expecting me to spoon-feed it to you?”

Your throat catches, forcing you to swallow a lump as you attempt to ignore his words. 

“I am trying! I just don’t understand why there are two approaches, is all,” You whine, flipping back through your sparse notes to find the section that contained the explanation. 

“I went over that almost 3 chapters ago. If you were paying attention, you would’ve stopped me by now. It’s hard to believe that you even got into this school, if this is how you studied in high school. Did your daddy pull some strings with his buddies in admissions?”

Your eyes narrow, searching harder for the correct section in your notes. That’s a pretty low blow, and even if he’s not completely wrong, it still stings. You now know for a fact you didn’t even read this part of the text, but you keep your eyes trained on the page. At this point, you’d do anything to avoid looking at Aizawa, lest you begin to cry.

“Don’t be an asshole,” is all you can muster, voice shaking with unshed tears, “Would it kill you to be a little nicer? It’s hard to focus when all you do is insult me.”

“It’s hard to focus?” He repeats, his tone a sickly sweet mockery of yours. “Sweetheart, I don’t think that’s my fault. You’re a lot dumber than you think, if you even think at all. The midterm is tomorrow, and we’re just now getting into chapter five. Don’t get mad at me for actually trying to study; if I was holding your hand through it all, we’d still be on chapter one.”

Your vision blurs and a single tear hits the lined paper of your notes, causing the ink to blur as the drop absorbs into the page. You clench your jaw and take a breath before standing up, opening your backpack to put you things away. You didn’t have to take this abuse, you could study on your own. Even if you did poorly, you’d have some of your dignity left.

“It’s pretty rude to just walk out on someone trying to help you,” Aizawa says after a moment, closing his notes shut. “Not only do you give me a headache every single morning, but I try to tutor you and you want to leave without even thanking me? I’m busy, you know? I take time that I don’t have to spare just help your sorry ass out, for free, and you’re not even capable of learning anything from it.”

You sling your bag over your shoulder and move to leave, but you find yourself face to face with Aizawa, his tall frame blocking the door, arms crossed over his chest, and a thoroughly disgusted expression plastered on his features. 

“I should charge you a fee, just for completely wasting an afternoon. Absolutely ridiculous,” His tone is a juxtaposition to his demeanor; he sounds more amused than annoyed, a jeer underlying the words. It makes you feel sick, and you’re suddenly grossly aware of the fact that you're alone with him, the only method of escape blocked. It feels dangerous, and you want nothing more than to be at home, alone and safe.

“H-how much?” You stutter meekly, eager to appease him. “I don’t really have any cash on me but if you have Venmo-”

“That’s not quite what I had in mind,” Your heart starts to jackhammer against your ribcage and panic sets in. You’re frozen in place, unwilling to ask him to elaborate. You may not be very bright, but you have a good idea of what he’s going to ask for, and you can think of a million things you’d rather do instead.

“I know your pretty little skull is practically an echo chamber, so listen closely, okay? We both know that no matter how hard you try, you won’t be ready for the exam by the end of tonight, and I have to work in an hour and a half. So, if you behave and do what I ask you, I’ll let you copy my exam answers tomorrow. Understand?”

You’re silent, paralyzed by fear. A part of you wants to run, desperately, but your mind drifts to the midterm. You know that without any help, you’ll surely fail.

That’s how you end up on your knees in front of him, tears finally streaming down your face from choking on his thick cock. 

“That’s it,” he groans breathlessly, eyes fluttering shut as his head presses back against the door, “I knew you were good for something. I bet this is how you convinced your other teachers to give you a passing grade, huh? A few cocks down your throat-fuck, to save your gpa, I wouldn’t put it past you, dumb slut.”

You hate this- hate being reduced to just a mouth for him to fuck. You hate how he sneers down at you, his eyes alight with sadistic pleasure. You especially hate the treacherous way your spine tingles and heat pools low in your stomach at his amused growls and degrading remarks. He’s just as cruel with the way he fucks into your mouth, disregarding your comfort entirely, hand in your hair roughly guiding your head over his length. He’s almost painfully thick, stretching your lips wide, tickling the recesses of your throat in a grotesque way. You try to wiggle away slightly, just to take a small breath; you’re beginning to feel dangerously lightheaded. You begin to pull your head away but he thrusts his hips upward, holding your head down and  forcing your lips to wrap around the base of his cock.

“S’okay, baby, just relax that empty little head of yours, no need to breathe right now,” he sighs, watching you struggle against him with a smirk, watching the fear bloom in your chest and your mind buzz with the lack of oxygen. Your thrashing shifts his cock in just the right way and you violently gag, eyes widening with the painful sensation. You’re almost convinced he’s going to let you pass out, right before he yanks you off of him. You cough violently, gagging a few more times, drool spilling out of your mouth.

“Throw up on me and a failing grade will be the least of your problems,” he growls, and the threat is a sobering reminder of how fucked up this is. You meet his expectant gaze, and reluctantly return to the task at hand. You can hold out just a little longer, you tell yourself; his hips are beginning to move on their own accord and you know he won’t last much longer. All you have to do is hang on and it will all be over soon.

You know that he’s just a bully, that you’re just doing what you have to do in order to pass this class, that you’re worth more than your grades, that you aren’t stupid- but the dark part of your mind questions if he’s right. Maybe you do belong on your knees, because what do you know? Maybe you are just a dumb slut; there’s no need to study if the only thing you’re good for is swallowing.

The shameful thought forces a new torrent of tears to pour from your eyes, gagging once more on both your tears and his cock, and the look of pure despair on your face pushes him over the edge. Aizawa yanks your head from his cock with a curse and you flinch as his hot cum hits your face. There’s a lot of it, the viscous seed slowly dripping down your face. The sensation is downright disgusting. You feel dirty and used, your throat sore, knees burning, lips swollen from his brutal assault. He presses the tip of his cock on your cheek, smearing his load all over your skin with a cruel laugh.

Through your panting, you keep your eyes closed for a little bit, hoping that maybe this is an awful nightmare and you’ll wake up in your dorm, with an extra day to study and a little more hope in your heart. 

The sound of a camera shutter rips you from your fantasy, opening your eyes to see Aizawa grinning at his phone. You’re too shocked to say anything, only staring at him incredulously from your position on the floor in front of him.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, you know?” He hums as he tidies himself up and grabs his bag. “So photogenic, I’ll be able to get off to this for weeks. Who knows what good you’d be if you were dumb and ugly.”

You didn’t notice that you had stopped crying, but the fresh tears and sound of your own sobs call your attention to fact.

“Try and clean up before you leave, alright? I know you’re a little too stupid to remember, but I don’t think it’d be a good look for you to walk around covered in cum.”

The door clicks closed, and through your sobs you look around at the room, only to notice that there aren’t any tissues left laying around. You hate him, you hate him, you hate him.

(But at least you get an A- on your midterm.)

[lokixreader]

Just a simple maid (soulmate au)

Requested:

Yes

Words:

4,044

Summary:

Y/n, an Asgardian maid, seems to be the soulmate of prince Loki, and for some reason she always wears long sleeves.

Warnings:

A lot of crying, sleep deprivation, ANGST, panic attack (kinda), sadness, tears, some more crying and a lot of bad writing

A/n: alright first soulamate fanfic, let’s hope for the best

A/a/n: finally I’m back, but only shortly. I recently redound some inspiration and will to write and to try being present on my blog again. But now I must warn you. I wrote this in the span of 2 years more or less, and for how impossible it might seem, I lived a lot of things in 2 years. This has been specifically written in 3 different periods of my life which would be a few months before, during and a few months after my depression. I hope you will enjoy it, and to everyone that is going through what I have, please I beg you, be strong. Carry yourself and keep going. Even if it hurts. Talk to someone about it. Someone who will understand and not treat you as attention seekers. Remember that you are loved, that even if you don’t have anyone now, life works in unexpected ways, and that maybe tomorrow you will find those people or that person that is willing to love you, perhaps not romantically, but trust me, aromantical love is the best. You will get through it. It doesn’t matter how hard it gets. You’ll get better. You will be better. You deserve it. And you are not alone❤️.

As a maid, you have never imagined yourself in a higher rang then where you already were and never expected something more. Children often imagined themselves being a lot more then what they were, imagined being princes or princesses, kings and queens, gods and goddesses and so on, but not you. You only dreamed to be free. Free from everything and everyone. Being raised as a servant blocked your dreams. You never dreamed what the other kids did, you didn’t want to be a goddess, you didn’t want to be a queen or a princess, all you ever wanted was freedom. Something that you never tasted since you turned 19. Exactly. 19 was the official age when a girl born from a servant became one as well.

Your mother was a wonderful and loving person, the best person in all of Asgard. She was the queen’s servant and Queen Frigga, being the sweet and kind person she was, often left you to play with her sons, Prince Thor and Loki, giving you the possibility to grow up with them too, and so you did. You were practically the same age as Loki, who soon became your best friend. Strangely, like probably not all of the royalty would do, he never treated you as a servant, but as a friend, and Thor did the same, leaving the servant-treatment aside. Time passed fast leaving child you, child Thor and child Loki behind and welcoming yourselves as adults. When you turned 19 and became a servant, for how much Thor and Loki claimed to care for you, they couldn’t do anything to solve your situation, those were the rules and the laws of Asgard and breaking them would have meant for them to go against the throne that one day one of them would have sat on. However, you couldn’t blame them, and you did the only thing that remained: you dealt with it. You were a maid. You couldn’t change it. You simply decided to keep it that way. But then again, when you turned 500, after centuries of service, you finally found a joy. In fact, when an Asgardian turns to the age of 5 centuries, they get strange writings on their arms, because of soulmates, as you once read on a book. When you started having writings on your arm, you went directly to your mother, who explained what a soulmate was and how it worked, better than any book could.”Y/n, darling, a soulmate, as the name already explains, it's a person whom you share a close relationship and a deep understanding. It's someone made to love you, that destiny decided you would be in love with. You can't hate them nor not love them, it’s a deep connection that can't be broken ” she explained to you, and you asked curiously ”What are these writings on my skin? How can I find this person?” and you kept making questions ”This writings are something that your soulmate wrote on his own skin to contact you. In fact, this is the only way you can find your loved one. You are lucky. Some people, unfortunately, never find their soulmates”. That night you received another writing on your arm, and you didn't hesitate to answer. 

 Hi

Only that, nothing too special, but you still responded

Hey

Nothing too special either

What are you doing?

Compared on your arm and you answered

Just talking to you, nothing much, you?

And he answered, and you two kept talking for longer than 3 hours. When you realised how late it was you wrote:

Oh, it is so late! We should go to sleep!

Even if you didn’t want to leave.

Wait! Do you think that we could meet tomorrow?

You suddenly found on your arm.

Tell me your name and I will find you

You wrote back, even if you weren’t sure that you could have, due to all the work you had to do tomorrow. But then reality hit you harder than ever.

I am Loki Odinson.

Oh great gods, oh great gods! Loki Odinson, Loki, that Loki, practically your best friend since childhood!

From that moment you stopped writing and since that night you promised yourself to avoid Loki, for how much you could, due to the fact that you were one of his maids.When you dressed up in the morning you chose a long-sleeve dress, in order to hide the writings on your arm and, without even thinking about meeting him, you cleaned his chambers only when he left them.This is what you did for almost a month, but it couldn't last forever, and you knew it. What hurt you the most was shutting Loki out, he was your best friend, always there for you, and now you just let him out, but obviously, he kept writing on his arm to talk to you, to see if he was the one that did something to you. He kept on writing and writing until your arm didn't start to hurt. It started to hurt every time he wrote something, every word, every letter, getting worse and worse, but you couldn't ask anyone for help, not even your mother, because you couldn’t risk her knowing that your soulmate was Loki. Again, you did the only thing that you could do, you dealt with it. When you found the time, you went to the library to find any reason why the writings caused you pain and any way to stop it. Today was one of those days when you had the time to go to the library. The library was a huge room, full of shelves and departments, with millions of books of every genre. You went to the section where you found the books on soulmates when you were younger. You had been searching for it the whole day and you didn't find it. You could see from the huge window that it was getting dark outside and that you should have gone to your room, so you decided to leave. The following morning you got up with a stringing pain in your left arm. Again. Loki had probably been writing on his arm for most of the night. He often did that, without thinking that it hurt you, or maybe he just didn’t know. Then you looked at your arm, not surprised in finding many questions such as “What are you doing?” “Where are you?” or even “Who are you?”. You didn’t answer any of those, you didn’t want to, you simply couldn’t, so you just got out of your bed and dressed with a long-sleeve dress, as always. Then, you got to Loki’s chambers, when he left them of course. He wasn’t a messy person, in fact he was quite the opposite, even if sometimes it might happen that he left his bed un-maked, mostly because he was late for something or he had something to attend to. You started making his bed, and picking up a pillow which probably fell while he was sleeping, you found a book. You weren’t surprised, Loki loved reading just as much as you did, and it came to you without a surprise that he read in bed before sleeping, or even for the whole night. But what surprised you was what the book was about. On the brown cover, in a beautiful golden writing there was written ‘Soulmates: the lifetime bondage’. This was te book you were searching for the last day! And it was in Loki’s room, but why did he have it? The answer suddenly popped in your mind: you weren’t answering him when he wrote to you, so he was probably searching for the reason why. Opening the book and going through its pages, you saw a few notes here and there, till you didn’t reach the chapter about ‘not answering soulmates’ and you started reading carefully.

“Not answering soulmates:

When a soulmate does not answer to the question the other soulmate wrote on his arm, there are more reasons why it happens:

- The soulmate does not answer because of its own will

- The soulmate might not be capable of answering

- The soulmate might be dead”

The last part made your heart drop. Did Loki think of you as dead? No, he couldn’t, you were right there, alive and well! But he didn’t know, you never talked to him. You rolled up your sleeves, looking at all the questions he wrote, between them there were some “Are you alright?” or “Are you safe?” and similar. Tears started appearing in your eyes, one already falling on your cheek: you didn’t realise you started crying.“So you found the book” a voice said behind you. You rolled down your sleeve, got up from the floor you were sitting on and took in all of his form, recognising it as the younger prince of Asgard. “L-loki, I was not expecting you here!” You said. “I know, I had a very important meeting, which I actually did not have to attend” God his accent, you had really missed his voice. “Anyway, how come that I have not seen you in a while?” He asked “I..I have been busy..” you lied. He smirked. “Y/n-“ “I know, I know you are the god of lies and you know that I lied” you stopped him in the middle of his sentence “I was about to say that I know you since we were children, it is impossible for me not to know” of course you thought “So, what is this truly about?” you had to tell him the truth, but you couldn’t, not this way “I am just having problems with my soulmate” you said. Half truth and half lie, or better only truth and an omission. ”That is interesting, I am too” You were surely surprised that he said so “Oh, really, why, what is happening with them?” You tried to pass the topic on him rather than on you “I think you do already know by reading the book you are holding” he said. You looked down at your hands, finding the book “I am sorry, Loki. But do you know why they are not answering?” You tried to get the informations by directly asking him. “Unfortunately, I do not, but I do have an idea” you but your lip “Do you believe that they are dead?” He sighted “They might be..” he said without daring to look into your eyes. You felt so bad for avoiding him and leaving him without telling him anything. “Oh, Loki” you sighted and gave him a hug. He was startled after feeling your arms around him but then he gave in an hugged you back “I missed you” he said, burying his face in your hair. “I missed you too” you said back. When he stopped hugging you, you stepped back and tucked a stand of your hair behind your ear “Now if you excuse me, I think I should change your bed sheets” you said to him “Yes, of course” he agreed. You started packing the sheets so you could take them more easily and started heading for the door when Loki asked “You know that it is June, don’t you?” You slowly turned around and gave him a questioning glare “Isn’t it too hot to wear long sleeves?” He said. What am I going to say now? You asked yourself “I just liked the dress” you justified, immediately leaving the room, not noticing the smirking god. That was close. The days passed and you couldn’t help but being sorry for Loki. Sometimes you could see him wandering in the corridors near his chamber, with the book in his hand, a pen in the other, a rolled up sleeve and, to conclude his look, two deep bags under his eyes: to say that he was visibly tired was a misunderstanding. He was completely sleep-deprived. This situation was getting out of control and seeing him like this made your heart feel only pain and pity for the younger prince. This, till the day you finally had enough and decided to talk with him.

You knocked on his camber door, putting so much effort in such a small gesture. When you received no answer was the moment you started questioning yourself, but gathering all the courage you still had in yourself you entered, despite him not telling you to do so. Then you saw him. You saw him and you felt full of emotions: sorrow and regret were the first ones, then joined by happiness and joy for finding your best friend again.He was on the balcony, reading, a concentrated expression on his face, probably not even noticing you entered the room due to the lack of sleep. Or probably he had, but couldn’t bring himself to care in that moment. “L-Loki?” you quietly spoke his name, getting his attention... “Mmh?”.... more or less...“Loki?” you called for him again. When you didn’t get his full attention, you brought his face to you, locking your e/c eyes with his green ones. In doing this you could see his tiredness and sleep deprivation, the way his eyes had lost the sparkle they once had.“Loki, look at you! What have they done?” You asked him genuinely worried “I can’t find them, they won’t answer me! What have I done? What has happened to them!?” Loki yelled, tears picking at his eyes. You couldn’t do anything to him, so you hugged him, holding him to yourself in attempt to comfort him. He then let himself go, sinking in your embrace and crying, crying on your shoulder. When he finished you wiped away his tears, looking in his eyes “What is wrong with me?” He suddenly asked you.“There is nothing wrong with you, Loki, you are perfect. You are not the problem, it is them, they do not know what they are missing, and if they really do not want to be with you, then move on and let them see your true greatness” you said with a small smile forming on your lips, making a similar one appear on his face. His eyes were looking into yours, like trying to get to your soul. “Now, you need to get ready, there is a ball tonight you need to attend to” you said, looking down to the ground to avoid his gaze. “Come with me” he said “What?” You were shocked, did you actually hear well? “You understood, come with me” “I-should not, I-I mean, I am not important like the people that will be in the ballroom, and not even at your level to actually come with you” you stuttered “Oh, you got me wrong darling, you will not decide, this is an order, and please do not underestimate yourself like this” . That was... shocking to say the least. Not less then three second ago he was crying on your shoulder, and then he was giving you orders? Well, it was something he could do, but still, he never did.

You went to your room to get ready for the ball. What could you wear? You were a mere servant, you didn’t have a dress for such an occasion. But then, when you opened your dresser, you saw something that didn’t belong there: it was a beautiful long f/c dress. You took it to examine it and you saw all the diamonds it had on it. You were speechless, where did this dress come from? A little light turned on in your mind: Loki. Of course, who else could have invited you knowing that you didn’t have a dress for the occasion, just to give you a new beautiful one? There was only one last problem: the dress didn’t have sleeves. And now? What could you do? Make up on the arm? No it would be too much. Gloves maybe? Probably the best option.

After finishing getting ready you looked at yourself in the mirror. You felt beautiful, the dress looked perfect on you, the slight make up you put was perfect, and the gloves you found were perfect. Everything seemed perfect. You got out of your room, closing the door behind you and when you turned you found yourself face to face with the God of mischief.He looked at you, mouth slightly open, gazing at you from your feet to the tip of your head. “Is something wrong?” You asked, thinking that you had something out of place “No, you look ravishing”. You whispered a small ‘Thank you’ while blushing madly.

When you arrived at the ball room, you started feeling insecure. You were just a maid, a mere servant, and behind those doors were important people, princes and princesses, probably even kings and queens. Loki seemed to recognise your insecurity, since you felt him take your hand in his and lightly squeeze it. Now you could see why the destiny put him as your soulmate. That small gesture made you feel better, a bit more confident. You two then decided to enter the room.The night seemed to go well, and by well you meant that no one of the royalty approached you, except for Thor of course, who had come just to see you, since it has been a long time from the day you had last seen the blond prince. He started talking to you only when Loki had left your side “Hello, Y/n “ he began “Greetings, Prince Thor” you said back. He then chuckled, making you laugh; you had always greeted him like this as a child, a small obligation from your mother, who wasn’t used to you being friends with the princes. You then went on talking about the past months and what you had been doing, including the reasons why you couldn’t spend your time together.

“Alright, say that one more time.”

“Thor, I have already told you three times” you complained.

“I just need to understand why you have not told him yet” he insisted “How can you not understand? Loki is a prince, a god, and one of the most perfect people to ever exist, how could I ever stand next to him. I am nobody compared to him, Thor. I am just... just a simple maid” you explained, pain almost visible on your lowered face, you were feeling miserable just thinking about it, about your unimportance and how at times it made your life a living Hel. You were taken back to reality and away from your thoughts by a hand being put on your shoulder. You looked up to see an understanding sad smile plastered on Thor’s face “You forgot to mention the most important thing: he is your friend” he gently spoke, emphasising the last four words. “He has been your friend for longer than I have, he has spent almost his whole life with you and has always cared about you deeply. It shouldn’t be so surprising that you two are meant to love each other, but still, you keep saying that it should not be like that, just because you are a simple maid. Well, you might be a maid, but you are everything but simple. You are one of the most amazing people I have ever met. You are intelligent, funny, curious and beautiful. And top of that, you are you, and have never been afraid of who you are. For all these reasons, I can say today that I am happy and proud of having you in my life, and I am certain that my brother feels the exact same way”

By the end of his surprising speech, you found yourself on the verge of tears. You had always been in the dark about them caring so much for you and had never thought that someone could see you in that way. The blonde prince then hugged you tightly, noticing some of those small tears fall down your cheeks

“Do you want to know a small secret?” He asked you and you nodded still hugging him, then he silently said “When you had to become a maid, you should have been my servant, but Loki insisted so that you could be his” your eyes widened. Loki wanted you...as his maid? “He was convinced that since you should have cleaned his room, which isn not usually messy or dirty, you could have more time for yourself and that he would have been able to see you everyday at least once” You abandoned Thor’s hug to look at him in disbelief. He moved his hand to brush away on of your tears “ He loves you” Thor said, so faintly and silently that you wouldn’t have heard him if you were just one more step away. That last sentence hit you hard. Everything Thor said hit you hard. The room which wasn’t so crowded immediately started to feel smaller and smaller. Your lungs seemed non-existent and your breathing increased. You quickly excused yourself before running away towards the balcony.

The outside fresh air seemed to calm you down, and to fill your new redound lungs. You were feeling normal again, up until you didn’t hear a well too known voice. “Are you alright? I came back to my brother only to hear that you run away here” his voice was like the one of an angel, beautiful and spectacular, but at the current moment it was slightly panicking you. But then you took a deep breath and exhaled. In the meantime Loki came closer to the railing where you were at and looked at you worryingly. After a few seconds of mere loud breathing, you finally spoke up “I know why your soulmate is not answering Loki” he looked at you with a confused face “We do not have to talk about them, it is about you I am worried now. Forget them and tell me what is wrong. I want to be sure that YOU are alright Y/n, not them” you looked away from him and broke into a small laugh.

Ah the irony.

And if Loki was confused before, now it was even worse. You looked back at Jim’s sad face , then you slowly took off one of your gloves. Loki’s expression changed from confused, to shocked, to surprised and finally to one you could quite muster, something between realisation and sadness. He gulped, closing his wonderful eyes, only to open them Almere moments later “Why.” Was the only thing he said. A cold expression hard to read or to understand. “I was afraid” you answered, tears already forming. “Scared? Scared of what?” He asked slightly furring his eyebrows “That you would have rejected me and abandoned me. I was afraid of not being enough for you or that-“ you didn’t finish your answer. Tears were falling on your cheeks without a care, but you were engulfed in a hug “I would never leave you, for no reason at all. I’ll always be with you.” You hugged him back, scared that the world might end if you even dared to let go.

Minutes went by, but both of you couldn’t care less of the time passing, you just stayed like that, in each others arms, after so much time divided. Loki then kissed your temple. “I wish I told you sooner” you apologised looking to the floor. His index finger lifted up your chin so that he could see your features “Me too” was what he said “but this does not matter, for we are finally together now” you smiled at him happily. He could have reacted in million different ways. He could have told you how much time he spent trying to contact you, how he suffered without you, how his best friend leaving him could have affected him. But not a word. Not even a mention. He was just genuinely happy that you were alright and that he had his soulmate in front of him. *how could I have been so blind to this* he kept asking himself, looking at the e/c pearls staring at him.

Unbeknownst to you both, a certain blond prince watched them together, kissing each other fondly, then observed them get back in hand in hand, finally happy.

Tag List

(I’m just going to start a new one so that I don’t bother people who don’t care about this kinda stuff anymore) if you want to be added just tell me anywhere <3

@volpenera0 & @casseythebee & @brightsunanddarkmidnight2-0 & @melodynoelle & @just-the-hiddles & @arch-venus25 & @marvelgirlonamarvelworld & @fanfictrashdump

[writing-in-april]

Shining Bright Above You

Spencer Reid x Male Reader

Summary: Spencer finally gets to go out with his boyfriend after getting out of prison and gets to see the light despite the overwhelming darkness.

A/N: Hey guys! This is my twenty-first fic for my 30 fics in 30 days for April. This ones one of my favorites I’ve ever written and is based on this request and is also inspired by some stuff @ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff sent to me for inspiration. I know x male reader fics don’t do good in fandom (which is a crying shame) but there’s still a large portion of people it applies to that read fanfic so please share it around so it might reach them!! Inclusivity in fanfic is important and I’ve heard multiple people get very discouraged they don’t see more fics that represent them- so please help bring more inclusivity in fandom!!! My ask box is open for nice anons only- here- if I see a shred of homophobia I will curb stomp you (I will not have a debate about it in my inbox) BUT please don’t be afraid to point out if I made a mistake in terms of the gender of the reader (this is not an open invitation to critique the rest of the fic)Thanks for reading and hope y’all enjoy!

Warnings: Mentions of homophobia & the prison arc & subtle hints at a soulmate au (which is funny I wrote it like that because I don’t read soulmate fics lol)- otherwise its super fluffy 🥰

Main Masterlist Word Count: 1.6k

Time was just a construct created by humans to understand how we moved forward in the universe, and even though I was exaggerating it had felt like a million years since I had been out with Spencer. Prison had already made it hard to see him, with all the pat downs and checks only to still be separated by a plexiglass wall. On top of that, Spencer had only let me visit once, until he saw eyes leering at me with some uttering slurs underneath their breath.

It wasn’t until he was freed that I could see him again, and in the flesh as well. I remember our first hug after he had been released, both of us practically soaking our clothes with tears that didn’t seem to stop. For Spencer, it had even taken along time to convince him that I was real, and that I was safe- there would be no homophobic prisoners coming to attack us in the night.

Spencer didn’t like the night, one of his worst fears was the darkness and night was when the shadowy parts of his mind came out to play. Oftentimes I’d find him in other parts of the apartment at night, with all the lights on, the bed was no longer a place of comfort. One night I had pulled him to the couch, lights all flicked on and a nature documentary playing softly. When I had brought his head into my lap to stroke his fluffy locks that were still beautiful even though they were still damaged from the prison soap, he had fallen asleep a lot easier. Since then the couch has become our bed. Though I did not mind because he kicked and cried less in the night, and even when he did, it was easier to hold him.

The night was a scary place for Spencer, except when the stars shone bright. That’s why when I had remembered one of our favorite past dates, at the observatory, I immediately called in a favor. We had the place to ourselves tonight, sure it cost me more money than I’d ever spent before on a date. It had been ages, a million years it seemed like since we went out in public, so the price was worth it. It was all for Spencer, to make the night good for him again.

Though I definitely loved looking at the bright balls of gas up above I much preferred to rest my gaze on Spencer’s eyes. Spencer’s eyes often reminded me of the stars, not because of their color- but because of the slight twinkle that they got every time he was happy. The twinkle in my opinion rivaled the brightness of the stars with ease.

Normally I could listen to Spencer rambling on about facts all day, being completely entranced by his phrasing. But, his eyes had entranced me this time. I was no longer thinking about the black holes that he was rambling about, but how lucky I was. How lucky I was to see that twinkle in his eye and get to kiss him at the same time?

I could’ve been born at any point throughout space and time, to see any number of amazing things across the universe. But, I was put here standing next to Spencer. Just two specks of stardust ready to be in this world together. However insignificant life could seem in the grander scheme of things- however small we could both seem, I wouldn’t want to be next to any other speck of stardust nor be placed at any point in space and time.

“And no particles or even electromagnetic radiation such as light—can escape from it.” I caught the last part of what he said as he finished his mini rant about black holes. Thinking about light being swallowed up and being crushed into oblivion it made me think of Spencer again, it was a sad thought, though it was filled with hope.

I thought about all the darkness that had tried to consume Spencer throughout the years. Most recently prison had been the thing that tried to stomp the light out of him. It was nice to see that light that had dimmed sparkle a little brighter tonight. Even though we have been dating for a long time I felt myself filled with a small amount of happiness knowing that I was at least part of the reason the sparkle in his eye was bright tonight.

“You ok?” Spencer piped up, looking at me with concern.

“The stars are bright tonight.”

He looked a little confused at my seemingly somewhat random statement, he still looked back up at the stars. On the inside I wished he’d kept his bright glinting gaze upon me, then he confirmed my statement, “Yes, yes they are.”

“You’re still shining brighter.” Even after all this time I still had the capabilities to make Spencer blush. Every time he did so I was reminded of the stuttering boy I had met all those years ago. When he had first approached me in the library so long ago to ask me if I was finished with a book I had set down to the side, he was instantly just as endearing to me as he is now.

It had been such a different time then, it seemed almost like another lifetime. We had been through so much together, I often thought the universe might have some vendetta against us. Though logically the universe wouldn’t be so concerned with two small specks of stardust such as ourselves. Either way, whatever was truly out there in the unknown, there’s no place I’d rather be.

A piece of paper, folded carefully so the creases would be neat, was burning a hole through my slacks. It was a small gift in the grander scheme of things, a blip on anyone else’s radar. This held more meaning for us than just some novelty gift people buy.

His eyes were back on the stars, observing them with such intensity that I hadn’t even seen the astronomer Spencer had introduced me to last time we were here. Spence craved the light above him- who was I to deny him if I could give it to him?

It may have not been plucking the stars out of the sky for him to cuddle in his arms in a literal sense. I couldn’t buy all the stars in the sky, the website didn’t allow that. I could give him one though, one that was brighter than any others they had for sale.

“I-I have something for you.” I stuttered, which had Spencer looking at me with suspicion; he was the stutterer when nervous, not normally me.

Spencer’s eyes were on me now, not the stars, though he looked at me with the same reverence as he did when gazing up at the Milky Way. The same way I always did.

My hands were shaky when I pulled out the folded paper, carefully undoing the creases to present him the certificate of ownership for a star. Spencer steadied them with his fingers wrapping around my wrists. They were long and spindly, just made in a certain way that made me always want to kiss the tips of them as I did so often.

He then took the paper from my hands, even though I wanted to be greedy and take the warmth from his hands that the paper was stealing. I cleared my throat before telling him what the folded paper was, still nervous over a simple sheet of paper,“It’s our star.”

Somehow his eyes gleamed ever brighter because of how the tears that were now welling up in his eyes refracted the light even more. He wiped them a little, so he could scan the paper over to read the certificate that to most people meant nothing.

“It’s so we can have a little bit more light in our life.” I chewed on my bottom lip after I finished giving him my reasoning for the gift, nervous about his reaction. His hands were shaking now, as were mine, though for different reasons.

If my brain was thinking logically I’d realize he’d love anything I have to him, he’d probably even treasure a vial of sand. “You’re all the light I need” He then pulled me into his lips by grasping at my cheeks, the paper still in his hands brushing up against them accidentally. The only people here to see the light between us was a mingling curious janitor. It didn’t matter who was watching, I only needed one person to be here, Spencer. And, every time I was in his presence I always stopped to think, there’s no place I’d rather be. There’s no one else I’d rather be attached to, no one else I want to call me their boyfriend. He’s my home and my light just as much as I am his.

There’s an old Buddhist saying that, when you meet your soulmate, remember that the act to bring you together was 500 years in the making. So always appreciate and be kind to one another. I don’t know how much I put stock in the idea of soulmates, or the universe having some illogical vendetta against us, or the possibility of a being greater than humankind. I did know however, that if there was anyone in the world that I could possibly be soulmates with, it would be Spencer Reid. I’d spend the rest of my days comforting him from the darkness, happily showing him the specks of light in between that ultimately would defeat the swirling pools of black.

Ask Me Anything

—-

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[your-daily-biaswrecking]

Serva me, Servabo te

save me and I will save you

pairing: photographer!Taehyung x f.reader (oc)

more characters: Jimin x Yoonji

genre: angst, slight enemies to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut

word count: 4.6k   |  reading time: 25 min

summary: Somehow you end up having to share a Victorian Manor (that may or may not be haunted) with a person you really dislike: Kim Taehyung

warnings: nothing specific in this chapter, some swearing and toxic traits

A/N: Amy= Army= reader:)

All chapters | Masterlist   |  Read on AO3

Chapter 1: The tragic state of affairs

An hour and a half long car drive and you still managed to be in the middle of nowhere. You could almost swear the dirt road was leading to nothing, but the occasional sign swore otherwise. You sighed. How had you gotten yourself into this, again? Oh, yeah.

-9:34 pm, the day before-

A loud thud followed by an inhuman growl produced from the deepest pits of hell reached your ears in the kitchen. I guess you couldn't ignore her any longer. You leaned past the door,  peeping at your roommate cocooning on the floor.

"Uh... You good?" She immediately started mumbling with fiery passion and you couldn't understand a single word. That meant no. "What did Jimin do this time?"

Yoonji sat up, turning her spine abnormally to look at you. "He's an idiot," you managed to hear.

You pressed your lips together and nodded. "Right. You guys broke up. Is he still bothering you, what is it?" You walked to her and squatted down to her level. You noticed her cheeks were bloody red and stained with tears, her mouth giving you a pout. But you were unbothered.

"He won't let me go tomorrow," she complained.

"The Manor you guys had booked?"

"Yeah!"

"Why won't he let you go?"

"No, I mean... He says I can go but he says he'll go too and I don't want to see him," Yoonji mumbled while wiping her tears with the back of her hand.

Your immediate thought was to tell her to just go since they were going to make up eventually anyway. Seriously, the two of them broke up and got back together like twice a week. Sometimes it looked more serious, sure, but you had fallen for it too many times to believe it now. You would only be sure the two of them were done for real when... Well, actually, never. "So, you don't want to lose your vacation but you want to have the whole house to yourself?" you asked and she nodded. "Well, since you both paid for this, I'm sorry to tell you, but he has just as much right to go as you. You should have thought about that before you broke up over- what was it again? Dumplings?" I mean, this had to be some type of kink or something at this point. They had to be into breaking up and chasing each other all the time. Maybe it was the make-up sex, who knows.

Finally, one of the road signs pointed to the right for a turn. 200 m it said. You breathed out in relief; you were starving and so sleep deprived, you feared you'd drive your car into a ditch by the road. In front of you stood a large gate with an astounding metal design. It was open and you carefully drove in. Your breath hitched the moment the house came into view. What house? That was a whole palace! With three floors, a garden bigger than the nearest park to your apartment, and about a million windows adorning its two wings. So caught up in the drama, you hadn't even had the chance to see a picture to prepare yourself for the beauty of the Victorian artifact. Your jaw on the floor, all you could do was laugh.

Say, how had you managed to get here again? Right, right...

-11:04 pm, the day before-

There was a soft knock on your bedroom door and you hummed in reply. Yoonji burst in with great contrast to her knocking, dashing for the foot of your bed and plopping herself on it with nerve. You paused your texting on your phone momentarily to turn your eyes on hers, noting her tears were all dried up now, a frown in their place.

"I told him I'm not going 'cause I don't wanna see his stupid face," she announced.

The corners of your mouth turned downwards. "Good for you. I'm sure the house isn't worth it, you can do your vacation elsewhere."

"But now he says he's not going..."

You thought about it for a second, then got back to your texting. "Great. Isn't that what you wanted? Now, you can go."

The girl leaned over your legs, trying to catch your attention again with wide eyes full of conspiracies. "But... What if he's bluffing?"

You paused again. Damnit, why was this even making sense? You'd say Jimin is not capable of doing something like that... if you actually thought it to be true. "So, don't go." You looked at her again to make sure your point was getting across. "Yoonji, don't go. That way no matter if he goes or not, you still won't see his stupid face."

A middle-aged woman dressed to fit right into the aesthetic of the Manor greeted you on the big steps of the entrance with something like the enthusiasm you only show your favorite aunt on Christmas. "You must be Ms. Min Yoonji," she called before you even had the chance to reach her.

"Must I?" you replied, immediately following it with a peal of fake laughter.

The woman chuckled and walked towards you. With a closer look, you noticed how youthful her face looked, and how undeniably pretty she was. Definitely looking like a noblewoman who would be in charge of something like this mansion. "Welcome, I'm Mrs. Kim. I'm glad you're here, your partner is already inside," she said.

Oh... So he was bluffing.

You smiled. "Thank you. The place looks stunning."

"Oh, I'm hoping you'll get to enjoy all of its beauty to the maximum this week you'll be spending here," the woman said as she guided you towards the entrance." Just to let you know, every room is at your disposal, the kitchen is fully equipped and with every kind of food you might crave. Housekeeping is daily and with a very discreet staff. I have already given a tour to your partner."

You pushed the heavy door open and walked in, immediately hugged by a heavy but warm atmosphere with a strong, musky scent. Right across from you, there was a big, double staircase with a magnificent chandelier hanging from the high ceiling. All you could do was look around with a stupid face. Jimin was getting Yoonji this type of vacation and she had the audacity to fight with him? How had they even afforded this? You totally understood why your roommate was throwing a tantrum wanting to come here. Why had she even let you come instead?

-12:56 am, the day before, or more accurately, this day but super early-

"Amy... Amy..." You were startled awake, barely making out the silhouette of Yoonji hovering above you in the darkness. "Were you sleeping?" she whispered.

You exhaled and pushed her away, groaning. "Yoonji, a piece of advice: if you have to shake someone for them to answer you, yeah, they were sleeping!"

"Sorry," she said but definitely didn't mean it. She scooted you over to sit next to you. "Hey, so... I was thinking. Maybe you should go."

Be it the sleep or your roommate speaking utter nonsense, all you could think was: "What?"

"Well, I don't wanna go in case Jimin goes, but I also don't wanna let him have the house to himself -you know, out of spite- so maybe you should go." Yoonji blinked at you expectingly but it was still too complicated for you to process. "I mean, you're gonna have a good time, Amy. The house is amazing, I promise, this is a one-in-a-lifetime opportunity, okay? I thought if I let you go then we could also be even for the time you did that assignment for me and got me an A? What do you say?"

You frowned, starting to shake your head. "Yoonji-"

"Please, I just want you to annoy him by just being there, you know? Also, he might not even go. Then you'll have a whole Manor to yourself for a whole week! You can take your books with you and enjoy some time away from society, right? Pretty please..."

Your frown deepened, but you started to think about what she was saying. "You really would rather just give up your vacation to a Victorian Mansion or whatever it is to your roommate than let Jimin have it to himself?"

"Absolutely, yeah."

Well, you couldn't think of a reason to say no to that.

Mrs. Kim finished her welcoming speech with a smile. "In the library, you will find a map of the hiking routes of the forest. There is a mushroom picking one that I wholeheartedly recommend. Of course, anything you might need, you can always pick up our vintage phone -it works perfectly- and call us any time of the day and night."

You gave her a genuine grin and nodded. "Thank you very much, Mrs. Kim!" And after that, the beautiful woman opened the door and left. Where to, you had no idea, since you doubted there was any kind of civilization nearby.

You dragged your suitcase to the bottom of the staircase, about to lift it and go find one of the surely many rooms to occupy. But in the silence of it all, you noticed a fire cracking in the background. So silent, it felt like you and the fire were the only things alive for miles. Yet Jimin must have been roaming somewhere in this Manor.

Huh... He still hadn't shown up at the entrance to check if Yoonji had come? Surely, he must have heard the commotion made but you two ladies.

You released your grip on your suitcase and slowly walked towards the room the fire seemed to be coming from. You wanted to find him and enjoy his face when he would see you instead of his girl- well, ex-girlfriend. You passed through a small hallway, little rooms with cabinets and bookcases until you reached a slightly ampler room that had a lit fireplace. It looked like a sitting room, with a pair of scarlet, velvet armchairs and a matching sofa. There was a large, thick carpet that covered almost the entire floor, and an ebony coffee table in the middle. On the right, a window that expanded from floor to ceiling, but was however half-hidden behind a rich curtain.

You were about to go towards the fireplace before you noticed the slim man standing tall by that window. Looking outside, turned opposite to the entrance. You almost didn't notice him as the colors and textile of his outfit matched the room so well. His brown, a little wavy hair tucked messily behind his ears, light silver glasses sitting low on his nose, hands in his pockets. He was wearing a sweater vest over a beige shirt and baggy trousers and was standing like a model. Something very off about him that you didn't immediately recognize.

"Oh." The interjection left your lips without your command. And at the sound of your voice, he turned around to face you.

-10:46 am, this morning-

You had left your apartment more than a long time ago, Yoonji was expecting that you would have arrived by now and waiting for your news. Had Jimin gone too? How had he reacted? She tried calling you a couple of times but was only met with voicemail. Maybe you didn't have a good signal up in the mountains. Oh, no, how would you keep her up to date now?

Her cellphone buzzed and she rushed to see the message she assumed was from her roommate. It turned out to be her ex.

"You didn't go, then?"

Yoonji laughed. How wicked of her. He must have just seen you arrive at the Manor, instead of her. So he was lying about not going, just as Yoonji had predicted. She flipped her hair from her shoulder dramatically and quickly typed her reply.

"Of course not, I told you I wasn't going."

She couldn't stop giggling like a little girl.

"Cool... Just so you know, I felt bad wasting this already paid vacation, so..."

Yoonji rolled her eyes, still giggling.

"Let me guess. You went by yourself?" How pathetic... He really thought his little trick would work.

"No."

Wait, what?

"I myself didn't go..."

Yoonji blinked.

Come again?

Your eyes widened when you realized the man in front of you wasn't Jimin. The man in front of you was...

"Kim Taehyung? What are you doing here?"

He was about to open his mouth to reply when your phone interrupted you. Without taking your eyes off the man and with a deep frown on both of your faces, you took it out of your pocket and answered. Yoonji's voice started ringing immediately from the other end.

"Amy! Finally! I've been trying to call you for ages. Did you arrive yet? I wanted to tell you Jimin isn't coming. He said he let Tae go." You rolled your eyes. "Can you hear me, Amy? The signal is so bad... Amy, the idiot did the same thing I did and sent Taehyung! Remember Taehyung? Jimin's best friend?"

You sighed. "Yeah... Way ahead of you. He's standing right in front of me." Your eyes traveled down his arms as he moved to fold them over his chest, tilting his head at you.

Yoonji let out an exasperated cry. "Ugh, man! So he told the truth... Look, I'm so sorry I got you into this. Amy, can you hear me? I hope you have no problem with him there. I know you guys are not close- wait, have you guys met? You have, right? Okay, I know you're not close but it'll be fine, right? Just don't pay attention to him and do your thing, yeah darling? Act the same as if Jimin were there, or as if you were alone. Amy, that's fine, right? You can do that, right? How is the house, is it awesome and totally worth it and you're totally not mad at me for sending you there with Tae? Huh? Amy?"

You sighed again. The signal was indeed bad. So you just hung up, hoping your roommate would blame your rudeness on that. Hiding your phone away again, you eyed Taehyung from head to toe. He was still glaring at you as if you'd stolen something from him. Well, I guess if he thought he'd have this whole place to himself, it was kind of like stealing. But that was only because he just happened to arrive first. Both of you had the same claim over the place. Or, well, neither of you did.

"Right, so..." you started since he didn't seem to be reacting any further. "I guess we'll have to stay together."

Suddenly, Taehyung started moving. His eyes still piercing yours and not a word out of his mouth, just a steady charge towards you.

"I-I know you didn't expect me-" you felt the need to mumble quickly, "-but I didn't expect you either!" Taehyung stayed silent, getting closer. "Okay, maybe we lied!" you exclaimed, your feet stepping behind each other. "But you guys lied, too!" There wasn't any more room to move and the man was now right in front of you, leaning into your personal space. "Taehyung, what-"

"Who are you?"

You were caught off guard. "What?" You thought he was joking, but he stayed looking at you with a serious face. "What do you mean who am I?" you sounded offended. "We've met before!"

"Have we?"

"Couple of times!"

Taehyung scanned your entire face before he shook his head. "I don't remember you."

Now you were offended. "I'm Amy!" you announced loudly. "Yoonji's roommate."

At last, he pulled away, his mouth opening in understanding. "Oh... Right, I knew Yoonji had a roommate by that name." He moved farther away but turned his head to you again. "I don't think I've seen you before, though."

You rolled your eyes and slipped around him to escape the place you had been trapped in earlier. "Alcohol does that sometimes," you snorted at him.

Taehyung rubbed his chin, looking at you differently now. You tried to avoid his eyes, examining the room more closely instead. The paintings on the walls, the black encyclopedia on the shelves, the candelabra and tea set on the small table. Every detail was thought of inside the house. "Why are you here, though?" he asked.

"Same reason as you, I assume."

He licked his bottom lip in the act of releasing a small chuckle. "Did you owe a favor to your best friend, too?"

You took out one random book and browsed its thin, yellow pages. "Actually, she owed me."

Taehyung raised his eyebrows in response, then started occupying himself with the little things around the room, as well. "They're ridiculous, aren't they?" You hummed in agreement and put the book back, moving along. "Do you think they might be done for real now?"

"No way." You moved to the smaller window behind the sofa and pulled its curtains away to look at the view. A hill decorated by a dense forest. "Yoonji is over her phone 24/7 waiting for him to text her."

He chuckled again. "I know for a fact Jimin is not taking this seriously. He laughs every time she texts him."

"As he should! She's a drama queen."

"Thank you!" Taehyung called out as if he had been struggling with this for a long time. With two long strides, he appeared next to you and forced you to look into his eyes. "Jimin gets mad at me every time I say that, but she is, isn't she?"

You were a little taken aback by how eager he seemed to be to find this one thing in common between the two of you: having had enough of your friends' relationship. You nodded with an amused smile. "Extremely."

He shook his head, pushing his hair back with a hand. "I honestly don't get how they make it work. Aren't they tired?" He turned serious again and looked at you with big eyes. "I could never have something like that. When I like someone, I want it to be Titanic, not Mr. and Mrs. Smith."

It took you a few seconds to reply, a little lost in his intense stare. But you shrugged. "I kind of get it. It keeps it fun and interesting. They've been together for three years now and yet it's still not boring. Like, they confess their love to each other every other week."

But he insisted. "I wouldn't need all of that to remind my girl how much I love her."

This was getting a little uncomfortable. He was a little too close, and a little too serious. So you leaned back and maneuvered around him, walking towards the door. "Alright, you do your thing with your relationship, they can do theirs." You turned to look at him right at the same time he did. "So, we'll be staying here together, right? I hope that's okay."

Taehyung shrugged just one shoulder. "If it's fine with you," he almost whispered.

You nodded once. "Well, as long as there is not only one bed," you smiled at your joke but he just frowned. You guessed he didn't read fanfiction. You cleared your throat. "The house seems big enough for the two of us, I'm sure we could go about our separate vacations without getting in each other's way."

"Sure, if that's what you want."

You nodded again and pointed to the door. "Should we choose our rooms?"

He clicked his tongue and moved past you. "Sorry, I have already chosen the big chamber on the east wing since I didn't expect company. You might want to get a room on the west wing to avoid me more efficiently." Taehyung walked quickly down the corridor without waiting for you, or even checking if you were following. Not that you had to be following, obviously. You thought he sounded a little annoyed, but you couldn't think of a reason why. If it was you being there, he'd have to get used to it 'cause you weren't going anywhere.

"Cool," you simply replied and followed. The man appeared in your line of view again only after you got in the lobby. He was standing by the staircase, looking at your abandoned suitcase. "I got it," you said automatically, only realizing he hadn't offered to carry it after he looked at you weirdly. You cleared your throat awkwardly, needing to change the subject. "Do you know where the kitchen is? I'm thirsty."

He motioned towards the corridor opposite the one you had just come from. "Down the hall, there's a small one," he said and started jogging up the stairs with his hands in his pockets.

You exhaled the moment he was out of view again. Being around him took up more of your energy than you expected. Which wasn't ideal for a vacation. The whole situation, to be honest, being isolated with Kim Taehyung in an old, strange house, wasn't ideal. You wondered if he felt so put out by it as you did while you walked around the house to find the kitchen. Definitely, you thought. He didn't want to be there with you, it was certain. Not necessarily because he'd shown something like that up until then, but because you knew exactly the type of guy he was. I'll tell you one thing: it wasn't a coincidence that you had such close, common friends, yet barely knew each other.

The kitchen was bigger than your living room, yet it was characterized as small? A long counter stretched all along the wall on the left, with three windows over it that overlooked the garden. There was an island in the middle and cabinets around the rest of the space. A very pleasant room, bright and with light colors on the furniture that went well with the green that posed on the window panes like self-illuminated paintings.

You put your whole face under the faucet and swallowed the very cold -cold like it was just now coming from a nearby river- water. After cleaning your dripping face with your hands, you did a short inspection. The cabinets and the fridge were filled with all kinds of foods, Mrs. Kim was right. You guessed that should have been the case, considering there weren't any markets anywhere close. But that also meant you had to cook all of your food. You and Taehyung. What were you going to do? Cook different meals or share?

That was a future problem. Now, you had to find a room. You dragged your suitcase up the stairs making a little too much noise and turned to the west wing without hesitation. There were a few rooms to choose from; a double room with navy blue wallpaper, a smaller one with a balcony, a more princess-looking room with a small bed and a boudoir. You picked the next one. It had a canopy, queen-sized bed with thick, purple curtains that matched the ones on the big window across the door, and a wooden wardrobe that looked like it was taken from the set of Beauty and the Beast. There was a small fireplace too, although it was not lit, it was still decorated.

A big smile appeared on your face at the sight of the cozy room. Perhaps the house would be worth it after all. Right before walking in, you quickly looked to your left, thinking you saw something, but when nothing was there you walked excitedly inside and closed the door. You tried opening the window to let some fresh air in, but it seemed to be stuck. Or maybe you just didn't know how to do it. It looked fragile and so you let it be, deciding against causing an accident. Instead, you took your clothes and your things out, organizing them around the room to make it more personal, and when you were done, you hoped on the rather tall bed with the softest mattress you had ever felt in your life and called your friend.

"Girl, you owe me big time after this!" you whisper-shouted at her when she picked up, still not certain of how soundproof the building was and not wanting to risk Taehyung hearing anything.

Yoonji giggled from the other end of the call. "Hey, girl! How is the Manor looking so far?"

"Oh, that part is fantastic," you said genuinely. "Still in awe you were stupid enough to let this thing go. But don't try to change my mind like that," you scolded her. You knew her too well for her manipulation to work on you. And she knew that, which is why she giggled again. "Why, oh, why is Kim freaking Taehyung here, Yoon?"

You could almost hear her pout. "Oh, babe, you know I didn't know he'd be there! It's not my fault."

"Well, yes, but when I agreed to do this, it was between having the place to myself or sharing with your boyfriend. I would–"

"Ex-boyfriend!"

"–much rather have Jimin here to annoy instead of stupid Taehyung annoying me," you said, rolling your eyes. You stared at the door then, thinking you'd heard something, but dismissing it as just the old house making noises.

"Oh, c'mon. Don't call him that. It's not his fault he got into this, either."

"You know how I feel about that boy!" you insisted.

"He's actually nice, Amy."

"To you. Because you're his best friend's girlfriend. He doesn't–"

"Ex-girlfriend..."

"–give a fuck about anyone else," you mumbled, playing with your hair. "Anyone who is beneath him and his stupid, rich ass is not worth being nice to, you know?"

Yoonji hummed. "I don't think he's that rich, he's just kind of famous. It's not the same."

You rolled your eyes and groaned. "That's not the point here." You got up and looked out the window. Air had picked up and was making the trees around the garden dance passionately. "I don't feel comfortable around him, so now I have to spend a whole week being weird and worried I might run into him no matter what I do."

Your roommate clicked her tongue disapprovingly at you. "Girl, I say give him a chance and get to know him. Who knows, you may become friends and when you get back we can all hang out together."

You smiled, raising an eyebrow even if she couldn't see it. "I thought you had broken up with Jimin, how are we gonna hang out all together?"

"Ah!" It really must have slipped her mind, too, which made it all that funnier. "You're right, don't become friends with him. You will never see him again, anyway," Yoonji was quick to correct herself.

You sighed, still smiling at your silly friend, as you propped one leg up on the window sill and leaned your head against the glass. "Can't I just leave, say, tomorrow?"

"Amy..."

"Too tired today," you added with a yawn.

"I think you should stay. First of all, if you leave, Jimin might come, and him with his self-proclaimed soulmate there would just make my blood boil, so we can't have that. But second of all, and most importantly, you are at a gorgeous Victorian Manor and all you do is complain about a gorgeous boy living with you. Things could be worse, Amy. He could have been an asshole and ugly." You burst out laughing. "So just enjoy it, okay? Fuck him and enjoy your stay. You won't ever get a chance like this again, Jimin paid for most of it, you know we could never afford that."

You rolled your eyes again, but as lovingly as you could. "Fine..." you succumbed to her words. "I guess I could put on my cute dress and go pick mushrooms and forget about the other guy."

Yoonji cheered. "That's the spirit! Go be a cottagecore fairy, baby, you deserve it."

"God, I hate you."

"Love you, too!"

Yeah, you should enjoy what you could from this. Maybe Taehyung wouldn't be such a pain in the ass. Not very likely, but maybe.

Next chapter

[supernova-variations]

10th Doctor, Brave

(not my gif!)

10th Doctor x reader

warnings: mentions of anxiety. but overall a fluffy oneshot with a slightly angsty ending?  word count: 2000! got carried away with this one but i don’t care. i had so much fun writing this! request: Ola could do a picture with Doctor ten and reader / fem with the music phil collins - you'll be in my heart

A/N: before all of you read it, i just want to remind you how brave all of you are. even if you don’t know it. you just need to be shown that you are capable of everything. i love you guys so much. thank you for the never-ending support. mary xx

“Brave”

Come stop your crying

It will be alright

Just take my hand

And hold it tight

 The Doctor came when she needed him the most, crushed by her own expectations and broken spines of old university books. Y/N measured her worth in coffee cups and hours she spent not-sleeping. She couldn’t be the judge of her beauty, she was way past looking at herself on the mirror, striving to gain knowledge to please everyone around her. She wouldn’t allow herself to fail, even if it meant running on fumes with limbs shaking from a caffeine overdose.

Afraid of failure, that’s who she was.

But we all have our limits, don’t we? Apparently, Y/N’s limit was the Latin exam, the one that got lost in her mind, tucked between a fifteen pages long essay due Monday, and an oral presentation that was supposed to take place the next day. Even the books in the library – usually her friend – seemed to judge her incompetence. Absurd thoughts filled her mind – maybe if she hid under the table and closed her eyes people would just forget that she existed? Maybe she would forget that she existed.

“Taurus agricola fugat,” she mumbled, tightly hugging her knees, her stomach turning into a big knot of nervousness, a bitter taste in her mouth. “No! Agricolae taurum fugat. N-”

“Why are you crying in Latin?” A pair of converse-covered feet peeked under the table, soon to be followed by a head full of ruffled, chaotic hair and concerned deep-brown eyes.

“I’m trying to bring back the Roman Empire to life,” the bitter joke escaping her lips mixed with a waterfall of tears streaming down her pale cheeks.

“Come on then, it’s not a place to do that.” The man reached out his hand and she grabbed it without hesitation, holding it tight. His fingers were slim, tender and warm, bringing comfort to all the cells inside her body that shrunk with the terror of the upcoming exam. “I’m the Doctor by the way.”

I will protect you

From all around you

I will be here

Don't you cry

 Y/N pounded on the chamber’s door with great force, her knuckles turning pale and bloody. She was suffocating, but not because of the lack of air. Her body decided to shut down, anxiety shaking her bones to the core.

A small window provided the girl with a view on a narrow, long corridor. She looked around to find something heavy to crush the electrical mechanism of the lock, the lasts of adrenaline kicking into her bloodstream. There was nothing around her, she knew that already, but she couldn’t give up. The Doctor would give up.

 Soon enough Y/N found herself on the floor, the walls getting closer and closer, pressing against her back and knees. She could do so much more, right? Discover the world beyond the coffee-stained pages of the university books, brush her fingers against the ancient ground – only with a snap of the Doctor’s fingers. He promised her that. He said she would be safe with him, only if she took his hand and held it tight.

The ship was about to collapse and the Doctor ran towards the vault. Y/N forced herself onto her feet, knees bending with fear. She could decipher her name from the movement from his lips. The coat floated outside of his slim figure, not being able to catch up with his fast movements. Even the time he was slowly running out of couldn’t stop him.

“Don’t you dare cry, Y/N! I will be there!” And soon she was. In his arms. With only one problem: the ship was about to collapse.

For one so small,

You seem so strong

My arms will hold you,

Keep you safe and warm

This bond between us

Can't be broken

I will be here

Don't you cry

 Y/N wasn’t afraid to cry in front of the Daleks. It was good to show them her humanity, to remind them what they weren’t capable of. “Cry baby” they used to call her, but she wasn’t embarrassed by her feelings by now. The Doctor showed her the beauty of them, the beauty hidden within.

“You don’t seem to know who he is,” Y/N laughed bitterly, angrily wiping the tears escaping her eyes. Resting her ear against both of the Doctor’s hearts, reassured by their beating, she got up slowly, limping on her left feet. The sudden explosion knocked out both of them and she was the first one to regain consciousness.

The Time Lord laid on the ground, sonic screwdriver abandoned on the ground. Without a playful smile on his lips and sparkling eyes, he seemed out of place, like an impostor, and that broke her heart. But he needed her, even if she was small and fragile. He didn’t teach her to be strong, he simply showed her how.

She faced the Dalek, resting her teared-up but furious eyes on the creature. She would take one step at the time, just like the Doctor taught her, gravel shifting under her feet.

“He is the Doctor.” The Dalek screeched. “He has been exterminated. And so will you be.”

“He is so much more than the Doctor.” She moved further, jumping on her right feet, the sprained ankle sending fireworks of pain to her synapses. “And so am I.”

'Cause you'll be in my heart

Yes, you'll be in my heart

From this day on

Now and forever more

You'll be in my heart

No matter what they say

You'll be here in my heart

Always

 “Are you sure about this?” Y/N asked him, holding onto the sleeves of the Doctor’s jacket. He wasn’t terrified, not at all. A goofy grin lit his face when the heavy wind hit their figures. How they still stood in the middle of a storm was an enigma to Y/N. Maybe the Time Lords defied the laws of gravity.

“Was I ever sure about anything?”

“Don’t be cocky!” The companion scolded him, earning another boyish laugh from the Doctor. He expected her to jump off a building. Not any building; the highest building in the world. She rested her eyes on his face, focusing on counting the freckles on his cheeks. She knew that if she even dared to trail off her gaze towards the void beneath them, she would most likely faint.

“Thought you were deadly scared of heights, and here you are, lecturing me. I adore you, Y/N Y/S.” The girl shivered at how her surname sounded in Doctor’s lips. He made her feel like she was a giant, capable of anything. No matter if it was a Latin exam, deadly Dalek, or a collapsing ship.

“Allons-y before I change my mind?” Gripping on to his arms, Y/N took the first leap. They were so close she could feel the Time Lord’s eyelashes tickling her cheek.

 Why can't they understand the way we feel

They just don't trust what they can't explain

I know we're different, but deep inside us

We're not that different at all

 Even though they were so different – hell they weren’t even the same species – they belonged to each other. When one was anxious, the other one filled them with hope. When one needed slowing down, the other one told him to take a deep breath. The Doctor and Y/N found themselves in a curve of time, imprinted as a mere fraction in the universe’s history. It wasn’t possible and yet it was.

 “What is this called again?” Y/N gasped, examining a tiny object in her hand. The surface of a shining ball seemed to shift it’s constellations and orbits every time she turned it around. The Doctor had told her that she was holding a miniature universe in her hands. “I mean, it’s not possible. In my physics classes, we’ve-,”

“Haven’t I proven to you that physics is so much more than school education? You can’t simply grasp it. It’s intangible. Well,” he stopped himself and cupped her hands with his own, “usually. Right now you are holding physics in your hands.”

“Physics, physics, physics?” Y/N reminded him, meeting his eyes and he smiled at her.

“Physics, physics, physics.”

She could hear the happiness stroking his vocal cords.

Don't listen to them

'Cause what do they know

We need each other, to have, to hold

They'll see in time, I know

 “Ah, the Doctor and one of his pets. At last.” A voice echoed throughout the empty hall of the Westminster Palace. Who would have thought that the current Prime Minister was indeed a Reptile? Well, only the people on the internet.

“Yes, nice to meet you. Or not. Funny enough, you’re the one that resembles a…pet.” Y/N cocked her head to the side and looked up at the Doctor’s expression. She carefully studied his face, how his nose curved and the subtle raise of his right eyebrow.

“Twelve million people just punched the air,” The Doctor snickered and leaned onto the wall. “Sorry, a mistake in calculations. You can add two more people to that number. You know why? Never let me near all those buttons.” The sonic screwdriver pointed at the secret panel hidden behind a painting of one of the kings of Britain. Probably a Reptilian also.

“Are we officially a number one enemy of United Kingdom?”

“Oh yes! Yes, we are!”

When destiny calls you, you must be strong

I may not be with you

But you got to hold on

They'll see in time, I know

We'll show them together

 Old Y/N would cry at this point – terrified of alien destruction, the Time Lords pulling through time itself, the unpredictability of the Master. It was time to be strong. She had to, the Doctor counted on her. The whole world did.

The Doctor didn’t need to hear the four knocks coming from the chamber, radiation levels rocketing on the panel where Y/N stood. The Time Lord already knew what had to be done, it was his time, his song was ending. He didn’t think of the things he could do if he had the opportunity, because he knew his Y/N could do so much more. Brave to stand where she stood, facing all the dangers and the end of the universe itself.

“It’s an honour, Y/N.”

“Please, don’t.”

Just look over your shoulder

Just look over your shoulder

Just look over your shoulder

I'll be there

Always

 In his last hours, he allowed himself to push the leaver inside the Tardis and see Y/N for the last time. He went way back, crippled by pain, and peaked outside the blue door, seeing his beloved one walking on the sidewalk, buried with notes, ready to study for the Latin exam she had forgotten about. In just a couple of hours, they would meet for the first time, only she didn’t know it yet. But he did – the burden of the Time Lords, wasn’t it?

“Please, look over your shoulder,” he pleaded, his voice at the point of breaking, sharp pain bending his back, deep brown eyes hidden behind tightly shut eyelids.

“Y/N, please. Please look over your shoulder.”

But she didn’t. The last thing he saw before shutting the Tardis’ door was the time machine of his past self and the Doctor’s head peaking onto the street. He envied him.

The younger Doctor looked over his shoulder, staring confusedly at a disappearing time machine. A feeling in his two hearts told him to visit the library nearby.

[with-love-anu]

Chances

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Summary: Sirius is the asshole of your group who seems bent on pissing you off

Warnings: Swearing, Sirius being a bully

Word Count: 1,848

Asshole. He was a complete nauseating asshole. Honestly you didn’t know why you let him get that much to you. You tried to breathe. That fucking man-child Sirius just ruined your notes. Those notes you spent so much time creating and what was his response again? Ooopsie.

“(Y/n), you’re really scary when you are angry.” Sirius said performing spells to repair the damage.

“Am I?” you scoffed. “Perhaps, if I would have been, people would not try to test me!”

“Hey calm down, chill, okay?” He said with a smirk that made you wish to rip his mouth. “Here’s your notes; as good as new.”

He looked smug at the moment, gesturing the notes towards you as if trying to calm a rabid dog. Argghhh. Maybe you would become one, Sirius was in fact capable of bringing out worst in people. You snatched your notes and went away with a huff.

“You can thank me later!” Sirius called after you.

He hated you. That had become a well known fact. Why? You had no idea. You remembered being actually friends with him once. Good friends. Then one day, he just turned cold. You had tried to talk to him. But between him ignoring you completely and him shouting, “Are you that dumb, I don’t want to talk to you; move along!!” in front of the great hall you got the message. You remember running into the washroom and crying your eyeballs out. After that you stopped talking to him. You still hung out with Remus and James. Whenever he would be in the group, he would sometimes make snarky remarks at you, or ignore you otherwise. You would reply back with a scoff or just roll your eyes and continue your conversation with others. It hurt, it really did; but you had mastered to not let it show.

It was the potions class. Professor Slughorn had placed a golden yellow potion in front of you all. It looked gorgeous. Bubbles burst around, making it look heavenly. You fidgeted in excitement. You knew what it was.  

“Can anyone tell me what this is?” the professor asked. You shot your hand up immediately.

“Yes, Miss (Y/l/n)?”

“Felix Felicis, also called "Liquid Luck", is a potion that makes the drinker lucky for a period of time, during which everything they attempt will be successful. It is meant to be used sparingly, however, as it causes giddiness, recklessness, and dangerous overconfidence if taken in excess.” You said in one breath.

“Oh, so you took it today before coming to class?” Sirius sneered and everyone rolled out laughing causing your cheeks to burn. You stared straight ahead not wanting to give anyone the satisfaction. You bit your tongue. Your mother taught you, bullies would always try to get on your nerves, to reply or remark back will only make them stronger.

“Be nice to them, it will have a far greater effect. Help everyone and never speak words full of hatred. Doing that you not only hurt the person you say it to but also yourself. We don’t get to choose people who come into our lives, they maybe good or bad. Most of them will disappoint you, hurt you; but you must remember- you are stronger. I am in no way am telling you to let people take advantage of your generosity. You will be stronger because you didn’t cause the same pain which made you want to kill them, smack them, kick them in the shins so they cry out.” You giggled. Your mother smiled.

“Let go. Move on. Ignore them. It takes strength, it’s a power that belongs only to the greatest of men.”

But urge to smack him right in the face so his jaw broke was so damn strong. You took a deep breath, in and out.

“Mr. Black! How dare you! You just insulted one of my best students. You need the potion much more than she does, even to pass this class! So, I would insist you to take out your book and start studying.”

You did not expect that. People around you snickered and snorted. You didn’t dare look at Sirius. You wanted to smile, but you couldn’t. You remembered him sitting for hours in the library with Remus to work on potions. Perhaps, this was a bit too harsh.

***

You were all sitting in the library, talking about the upcoming hogsmede weekend.

“My Lily flower here, has finally agreed to go out with me as a couple!” James said putting an arm around Lily. Lily blushed.

“Well, you did promise me anything I want from honeydukes.” She told him leaning into James embrace.

“(Y/n) what about you, got any plans?” Remus asked.

“You’re asking (Y/n)? I doubt she could get a date in a million years being the know it all, we all know she is.”

You sucked a breath. James and Remus glared at him and were ready to launch when someone put an arm around you.

“(Y/n), babe?” you turned to see Sebastian standing close behind you.

Sebastian and you were weird friends. You were completely honest with one-another, understanding each-others choices and flirted with each other for fun. You would definitely count him as one of your best friends.

“Guys can I borrow my girl for a moment?” Sebastian said flashing a grin towards your friends. My girl? What was he doing?

Everyone nodded and Sebastian took you a little away, but you were sure everyone could still see you. You raised an eyebrow at Sebastian when he placed his hands on the sides of your waist.

“Listen (Y/n), I heard that ass-hole talk shit about and I couldn’t help it. You’re one of prettiest, kindest girls in school and I would have taken you out any day but that would just have complicated things between us.”

He was helping you?

“God! Am I that pathetic?” You said looking away not sure what felt worse.

Sebastian rolled his eyes and scoffed. “I am just going to assume you didn’t say that. Really? You believing that piece of shit now?”

You let out a small laugh smiling at Sebastian.

“You’re the best!” you said sniffing.

“Of course I am! I am bloody perfect, darling!” he said kissing your cheek.

“Okay, so you are coming with me next hogsmede weekend. We’ll show those fuckers what a perfect couple looks like.” He said with a glint in his eyes.

You laughed.

“Is that so, honey?” you said playing with his tie.

“Oh yes, baby girl!” he said with a wink, leaving.

Unknowns’ to you Sirius watched your interaction with Sebastian with narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw. He hated it. He hated himself. He was in love with you since the 2nd year and in the process of realizing it he panicked. He thought maybe if he was mean to you, you would hate him and return the favor. But you never did. You continued to behave civilly to him and even came forward to help him when he was struggling. And how did he repay you? By being an ass. His heart clenched every single time he teased you to get on your nerves and his stomach twisted in knots. He could never have you. Not someone as sweet as you.

***

You were going through the corridors when you heard shouts. You turned and sprinted towards their direction. You saw Avery and Mulciber dueling with Sirius. They shot a spell towards him and he fell back.

“Expelliamus!!” you shouted and caught their wands. They widened their eyes.

“You’ll get these back from Slughorn” you said in a sharp tone that left no arguments. They huffed and walked away. You turned towards Sirius. Shit he was bleeding.

“Fuck- that’s a nasty cut Sirius!” you said concerned. You concentrated and performed some healing spells. Sirius watched you intensely.

“This is going to sting, okay?” you said to Sirius but all he did was stare with an expression you couldn’t quite place. So, you returned to patching him up, trying not to squirm under his gaze.

He hissed. You gulped and tried not to shake. After you finished, you helped him stand. You looked at him and noticed he was still watching you.

“I’m gonna go and give these to Slughorn,” you said indicating the wands. “You go back to the common room and eat something, preferably chocolate.”

“Why?” he said his eyes not leaving you.

“Why what?” you asked confused.

“Why did you help me, even though I am so awful to you?” he asked.

You huffed. So, that is what this is about. As angry you were at him all the time, you couldn’t see him being beaten mercilessly.

“I am a prefect. I am supposed to stop fights.” You said as you turned to leave.

“I’m sorry” he called out loud. You turned and said, “What?”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being the biggest pile of dip-shit you’ve ever seen. For every single mean comment I said not meaning it. I’m sorry for being a pain in the ass, for being so bloody damn rude even though all you’ve ever been was sweet to me.”

You stared at him. He was apologizing?

“You’re a great person (Y/n), I don’t think I’ve seen anyone match your beauty or your wit. You’re so generous that I sometimes wonder if it’s humanely possible, whether you’re real. You help anyone and everyone if they need it, never asking anything in return. And I’m grateful and thankful for how you’ve treated me and am insanely humiliated at my own behavior.” Sirius huffed. It felt like every single thing he had pent up was coming out. He wanted to shout, to scream, to let this wonderful girl standing near him know, know that she was amazing, that he was sorry, that he… he liked her so damn much it had started to hurt him. Breathing deeply he looked at her.

You were stunned. You didn’t know what to say. Your ex-friend was giving you all these praises and compliments and sincerely apologizing for being a goddamn git. You knew for a fact that the word “sorry” never came out of Sirius’s mouth; not even for teachers.

“Well, say something?” Sirius said in a small voice.

“I don’t know what to say. You’ve been so rude to me since so many years that I started to be disappointed on just seeing you. Now, you’re saying all these things, which are flattering but, how could I forgive you in just one day? How could I forget what you did to me?”

“Don’t. I want to ask for a chance, to remedy what I did wrong. I know it can’t be done overnight, but I’ll makeup for it eventually. I promise.” He said sincerely.

“Work for it. If I think you're as sincere and want my friendship as much as you say, I'll give you a chance. Not a moment before.” You said. Sirius nodded slowly. You took a deep breath turning and leaving. What did you just agree to?

A/N: Let me know what you think!

[sidecarghost]

Suptober20 - Day 31 Carry On

Notes: AU where Dean dies trying to save Sam from the fire started by Azazel. But in this AU humans that die trying to save someone can become reapers. So Dean gets a chance to carry on and protect his brother

“Hello Dean,” a kid’s voice addresses Dean.

“Uh, hi,” Dean responds to the boy that appears to be about his age. “How do you know my name?”

“I’m here to help you move on Dean,” the boy says.

“No thanks,” Dean says. “I need to find my brother. There was a fire. I had to save him, and my dad was trying to save my mom. I don’t remember much now. I had to carry my brother out. His name is Sam. He’s just a baby.”

“Your brother will be okay, Dean,” the boy tells him.

“Have you seen Sam? Can you take me to him?” Dean asks.

“Yes, I can take you to see him. He’s in the ICU,” the boy says.

“Thanks, what is your name anyway?” Dean asks.

“I’m Castiel,” Castiel says.

Castiel leads Dean to the ICU and shows him to Sam’s bed. Sam is sleeping peacefully in the hospital bed.

“He looks okay to me,” Dean whispers.

“Yes, your brother survived because of your bravery,” Castiel says. “Your brother also has some special abilities at the moment that make him much more capable than other humans.”

“Oh wow, I didn’t know Sammy had super powers. And how do you know all this. Who are you?” Dean asks.

“I told you I’m Castiel,” Castiel reminds Dean.

“Yeah, I mean how do you know stuff about my family,” Dean says. “You don’t look much older than me, and I’m not even five for a couple months yet.”

“I’m a reaper,” Castiel admits.

“That sounds awesome,” Dean says.

“It’s okay,” Castiel shrugs.

“Were you always a reaper?” Dean asks.

“No, I used to be a boy too. I’m actually only a few years older than you. My name was Jimmy Novak,” Castiel says. “I tried to break up a fight when a kid in the playground was getting picked on. I was pushed violently by one of the other kids, and I fell backwards and cracked my skull on the pavement. There was internal hemorrhaging, and I didn’t survive. I have been a reaper for two months now.”

“So reapers are dead people?” Dean asks with his eyes wide.

“Yes, but not all dead people get the choice to become reapers. The souls of a person that dies sacrificing themselves for someone else gets to choose to either rest in heaven or become a reaper,” Castiel explains.

“Why did you choose to become a reaper after those kids killed you?” Dean asked.

“Because after a reaper helps one million souls move on to Heaven or Hell they get a chance to become an angel.” Castiel tells Dean.

“That’s awesome Cas,” Dean says. “So you will be an angel some day?”

“Yeah, that’s why I picked a new name. Castiel sounded like a cool name for an angel to me,” Castiel explains.

“I think it sounds like an awesome name for an angel,” Dean beams. “Are you helping any souls move on in the hospital? Is that why you are here?”

“Yes, Dean that’s why I’m here,” Castiel says quietly and nods his head.

“So how do you help them move on?” Dean asks.

“It depends, lots of times people have made their peace with passing on because they died from old age or sickness,” Castiel says. “It can be a lot more difficult for souls that died suddenly like in an accident or were killed to move on.”

“Who are you trying to help? Can I be any help?” Dean asks.

“I am here to help you Dean.” Castiel says while looking steady in to Dean’s eyes.

***

“You mean, I didn’t survive?” Dean gulps.

“I’m sorry Dean, but you died saving your brother.” Castiel says. “So you get the same choice as me.”

“What if I don’t want a choice? What if I don’t want to move on? What if I want to stay with Sammy? I’m just a kid, and this isn’t fair Cas,” Dean bites back tears.

“You can refuse to move on. You’d be a ghost, and eventually you’d lose your mind and you’d torment and hurt people.” Castiel says.

“I could hurt Sammy?” Dean asks fearfully.

“Yeah, ghosts lose their humanity and just become forces of destruction,” Castiel nods.

“I don’t want to be dead Cas!” Dean cries.

“I know Dean,” Castiel offers the boy a hug and Dean hugs the reaper and sobs into his shirt. “Take all the time you need Dean. I won’t leave you.”

Dean nods and cries himself out clinging to the reaper. “I don’t know what to do Cas,” Dean says as his sobbing slows down.

“It’s your choice Dean. You can rest in Heaven and be happy for eternity. Or you can become a reaper and earn your angel wings. Angels get to protect all the souls in Heaven. They are Heaven’s warriors.” Castiel responds.

“I want to protect Sammy,” Dean says. “Can I protect him as a reaper?”

“We’re not supposed to interfere with humans,” Castiel shakes his head.

“So it’s against the rules or something?” Dean asks.

“Yes, there are some rogue reapers out there, but most respect the rules,” Castiel nods.

“Okay, I don’t mind breaking rules to help my brother. I think I want to be a reaper,” Dean says.

“I’ll help you watch over your brother Dean,” Castiel says.

“You’d help me break the rules?” Dean asks.

“Yes, some rules are meant to be broken. You died saving Sammy, so I’d like to help you protect him. I understand why it’s important.” Castiel says.

“Do you ever grow older?” Dean asks.

“We live forever, so we don’t grow any older. But I can change my appearance to be more relatable to the human I’m helping,” Castiel switches to the form of a 30 year old version of himself.

“Gross, you looks so old Cas,” Dean mocks the reaper.

“I know right,” Castiel laughs and switches back to being a kid. “Reapers live forever unless we are killed. Reapers aren’t invulnerable.”

“Will we stay together?” Dean asks Castiel.

“Reapers almost always work alone, Dean. If we worked together we’d need to help two million souls to earn our wings,” Castiel explains.

“Oh, I guess you wouldn’t like that because you would have to wait so much longer to be an angel,” Dean says.

“No, I think I would like to partner with you Dean. We’d be a great team. I am not very good at convincing souls to move on. So we’d probably be more successful together. And being a reaper wouldn’t be so lonely anymore.” Castiel says.

“Yeah I’d much rather have a friend than have to be a reaper on my own. And we could become angels together! That would be so awesome right Cas?” Dean smiles at the reaper.

“Yes, that would be awesome,” Castiel smiles back.

“Okay, I made up my mind. Let’s be team DeanCas!”, Dean says.

“DeanCas?” Castiel asks raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I don’t want to change my name. I like Dean.” Dean says.

“Dean is a good angel name. But can’t we be CasDean?” Castiel asks.

“Nah, that doesn’t sound as good. But we can work on our team name.”

“So what happens now?” Dean asks.

“You need to sign Death’s book. Death is our boss.” Castiel says.

“Okay.” Dean says. Castiel reaches out to hold Dean’s hand and the pair appear in Death’s library.

“Cool, can I teleport when I’m a reaper?” Dean asks.

“Yes, teleportation is one of our abilities.” Castiel nods.

“I’m lucky I’ve got you to explain things,” Dean says.

“Thanks Dean, but any reaper would be able to explain this to you. You’d get 24 hours with the reaper to help you understand your abilities, duties, and help you with the first souls assigned to you,” Castiel says.

“I am still lucky that I got you though,” Dean says. “You are awesome, I can tell.”

“Thanks,” Castiel blushes. “Here’s Death’s book. Once you sign the book you are under contract to get 1 million souls to move on. Do you have any other questions before making your choice?”

“Nope,” Dean reaches for a pen and prints his name on the page of Death’s book. Instantly Dean feels altered. His maturity has greatly advanced for his few years spent alive on Earth. And he feels new senses come alive to serve his role as reaper and supernatural entity. “Okay teammate, where to first?”

“Just think of it, and you will go there.” Castiel says.

“Hold my hand?” Dean asks.

“Of course Dean,” Castiel says and holds the hand Dean offers.

The reaper team appears in a hospital room. The patient is hooked in to a life support system, and she is covered in burns. Despite the horrific scarring, Dean recognizes his mother immediately.

“My mom doesn’t make it?” Dean asks.

“I’m sorry Dean, but she won’t die until she is touched by a reaper.” Castiel says.

Dean nods. A few minutes ago, Dean would have screamed about the unfairness of his mother’s death. But becoming a reaper has changed his perspective, and he feel mature beyond his years. Dean reaches out to hug his mother and put a kiss on her cheek.

“Dean!” Mary Winchester’s soul appears next to Dean. “I’m so glad you’re okay. Azazel came I thought he killed me, but we’re okay.” Mary hugs Dean.

“Mom, we didn’t survive,” Dean tells his mother.

Mary Winchester notices the trench coated man next to her son. “Are you the reaper that reaped my son and me?” Mary accuses Castiel. Dean turns to see that Castiel switched to his 30 year old form, and Dean tries to focus on changing himself to be an older form of himself.

“Castiel reaped me, but he wasn’t your reaper mom,” Dean says in the deep voice of an older man. Mary’s mouth drops open in shock as she looks at the older man where Dean had stood. Dean switches back to the form of a kid. “I was your reaper.”

“Oh Dean, I’m so sorry!” Mary wraps her arms around Dean and she begins sobbing in earnest.

“S’okay Mom,” Dean says, and he returns her hug holding tight to his mom. “I’m going to be okay. Cas is going to help me watch over Sammy.”

“Reapers help protect people?” Mary asks Castiel.

“Not usually,” Castiel says. “But Dean and I are going to be a reaper team, and even if we weren’t I’d do anything possible to help Dean.”

“Cas is only a few years older than me, Mom. He died standing up to some bullies.” Dean tells his mom. Castiel takes that story as a signal to switch back to his kid form, and an instant later Castiel returned to the appearance of the kid that first met Dean.

“I don’t know much about reapers,” Mary admits. “But I’m glad you won’t be alone Dean.” She smiles at the young Dean and Castiel.

“How do you know anything about reapers Mom?” Dean asks.

“I was a hunter Dean,” Mary confesses. “I would kill monsters with your grandparents Deanna and Samuel.”

“Was Azazel a monster mom? I heard you mention that name earlier.” Dean asks.

“He is a demon, Dean. I had to make a deal with him to save John’s life.” Mary says sorrowfully.

“Angels fight demons,” Castiel says. “We could fight Azazel some day, Dean.”

“Yeah, mom after team Destiel helps enough souls move on to Heaven and Hell we can become angels,” Dean tells his mom. “But we probably can mess with this guy before that.”

“Be careful Dean, Azazel is a very powerful demon.” Mary warns.

“We will be mom,” Dean reassures his mom. “Protecting Sammy is my first priority, he survived the fire mom. Cas took me to his room, and he was sleeping peacefully.”

“I’m so glad. I know how much being an older brother meant to you Dean, and I’m sorry you’re life was cut so short. I left hunting to keep my family safe, but I guess somethings can’t be outrun,” Mary says sadly. “How is your dad? Did he survive?”

“Yes, mom. I haven’t seen dad, but I’d know if he got reaped.” Dean answers. “I have to ask you mom, are you ready to move on?”

“Can you boys promise me you will always take care of each other,” Mary looks at Dean and Castiel in turn.

“Yes ma’am,” Castiel says. “I won’t leave Dean.”

“I will take care of Cas, we’ll be together forever,” Dean smiles.

“Okay, then I’m ready to move on. Can we see your dad and Sam first, so I can kiss them good bye?” Mary asks.

“Yeah mom, let’s go visit them.” Dean grabs hold of his mom’s hand and Cas’s hand to teleport them to John’s room.

“Dean and Castiel, can I have a minute alone with my husband?” Mary asks.

“Of course mom.” Dean says.

Dean and Castiel walk to the hallway.

“I like team Destiel,” Castiel says.

“I know right. We have an awesome team name.” Dean smiles at Castiel. “We are going to be the best reaper team ever.”

“You are doing great with your mom so far. I’m very proud of you,” Castiel says.

Mary leaves John’s room and walks up to the reapers. She reaches out and grabs a hand from both of the reapers. “Let’s see Sammy.”

“Here we go mom,” Dean says.

The three teleport besides the 6 month old Sam’s bedside.

“I’m so sorry I won’t be there to raise you, my little man,” Mary says as she reaches to stroke the sleeping baby’s face she can no longer touch. “But you will have two angels protecting you, well aspiring angels, and I’ll watch over you too. I will always love you Sammy.” Mary leans in to kiss Sam on his brow. She turns to Dean and Castiel then, “I’m ready now.”

Dean and Castiel bring Mary to Heaven.

“I love you, Dean,” Mary says and leans in to kiss her son.

“I love you, good-bye mom,” Dean tells his mom.

Dean grabs Castiel’s hand. “Okay do we reap one from your list now?” Dean asks Castiel.

“We can spend the rest of the day on your list Dean,” Castiel says. “But then we can take turns if you’d like. Let’s check in on Sammy first though.”

“Thanks Cas,” Dean smiles at his partner.

Mary watches the two reapers disappear, and her heart is full of pride for her son.

[baobaojng]

secrets of the hill (jung jaehyun) - second

secrets of the hill (jung jaehyun) - first, second, third, fourth, fifth

jung yoonoh (jaehyun) x reader - 1800’s jaehyun!au , arranged marriage! au , supernatural-ish?!au , victorian? i think? !au

themes: angst, fluff, (just some implied smut along the way, i’m far too soft)

reminders: i’m half lazy, so i might not be able to drown myself in as much 1800’s facts as i’m supposed to as a responsible author — SO, yes, this will purely rely on fiction

note: oh hello did i forget to mention the SLOW BURN nature of this story? no? well.. there, i said it.

summary: in the present day you are confused; you do not know who you are and you find yourself on an impossible quest to find out— until you wake up in the 1800’s, engaged to a hauntingly beautiful and uptight man who tries to figure out why the girl he’s been betrothed to has drastically changed.

wordcount: 5,320

>

If a man loses his fiancée for four months, whether or not he liked her during the time that he got to know her and she him, the most obvious course of action when he sees her again after her return is to want to immediately find out why she ever went missing.

So you expect just that: for this man before you to speak to you. Based on the look on his face you could tell that it held a million questions, but as his jaw clenched even rougher at your general direction he only stared for a little while longer until he walked past the both of you. Just when you were about to speak to him too.

You thought Yuta said he was one of the kindest men to ever walk on this Earth? (Or well at least he spoke about ‘his lord’ in a way that the man could feed the land’s armies with only his kindness.)

Straightening the skirt of your dress, up to where your arms can reach, you are embarrassed. Never have you felt so flustered. Knowing you were no real reliable judge of character at the moment, you could only hope that this was a rough encounter. Perhaps his mind is too tired to create a reaction, but that was still unreasonable - you had to admit.

A younger boy who entered with that man was charging toward you in pure glee, and you did not even notice his presence until you were enveloped in a tight hug. This corset was cursed. “Lady Y/N!” He exclaims in enthusiasm, and Yuta immediately notices your need for air.

“That is enough, young lord Donghyuck. I believe the lady cannot breathe.” The butler commands and the young boy stops. His name was Donghyuck, and you heard that he was the lord’s little brother. He lets go quickly when he hears that you let out a squeak.

“Hello my lord.” You greet him, out of breath.

He only looks at you quizzically. Was there something in your teeth? You mirror his expression.

“Oh are you not joking?” The young lord seems worried. “Have we not agreed that you not call me that, lady Y/N?” Your eyes are wide.

“I apologize, it was just a little slip of the tongue.” You try and pretend like you are at fault instead, and you look over at Yuta for some clue - to which he mouths ‘his name,’ repeatedly. This man was a human survival kit. “Donghyuckie.” You add a little magical touch, and at first the young lord cringes but he smiles brightly.

“My brother has walked far enough not to hear that, right?” He looks over and asks Yuta who violently nods his head. “Good. I’m going to get in trouble if he hears that I’m comfortable with you. The last time we were kidding around I had to accompany him to a boring meeting with the barons of the family, it was ridiculous!”

You are about to react, but you feel a pang go through your head— and when you close your eyes you are caught in a daze of light. A scene you cannot control plays in your mind.

~

“Now, now. You must get back to reading your books before your brother catches you.” You warn Donghyuck, who is pouting like the true child that he was. His governess was sick for the day and you took it upon yourself to look over his studies.

“I am not a child, lady Y/N. I think my brother very much knows how capable I am, I need not read another phrase from any of these.” He folds his arms together.

In a sing-song voice you respond. “Oh well, that’s not any fair either. You know very well how much he worries about you. I think he only wants what’s best for you.” He looks at you with glassy eyes, but you know what those eyes mean. It stems deeper than how much his brother cared; reasons why his brother cared too much for it to be normal. You did not mean to indirectly bring anything up, and Donghyuck knows this too - but this was an unspoken truth that everyone always avoided speaking of.

“Well if he did care for me enough he would not treat me like this, I know he’s only trying to keep me as far away from the truth as he can.”

“Don’t say that!” You protest. “Has he not proven himself enough? Donghyuckie, you’re just falling in over your head that’s all. I will allow you to take a break, but I won’t hear of this anymore.”

The younger boy is silent now, but he resorts to a slightly angry whisper. “Must you always defend him because you are going to be wed?”

“That is enough.” His older brother stands by the doorway of the library and he looks over toward the direction of his younger brother who is stricken with guilt, “I will allow this break, brother.” And then he turns to you, “lady Y/N, I hate to demand things of you as I have one too many times - but I will talk to you outside.”

The funniest part of walking outside, following this man, is that you fear him. Not only in that moment, but in every single careful time you try to tiptoe along the ridges of his command. For the most part, you think, he is a respectable man. He has always been generous to people, never turning his curtilage away from anyone who needed it— and sometimes anyone who just wanted it. He always managed his work very well: following scholarly procedures but never afraid of taking risks in the name of success. He has always been gentle, never showing a streak of violence despite sometimes you knew your actions were far too much for him to handle. To add perfectly on top of that, he is best at self-presentation. Both metaphorically and literally. Although regardless of how you think he is, you think that you are always cautious with the words you speak - for you are afraid to offend him, the actions you apply - for you are afraid to embarrass him, the way you are - for you are afraid of seeming inferior to him, and even worse: making him seem inferior to anyone else who knew that the two of you were meant to be wed.

Now he avoids your gaze, looking to his own sides. He lets out a large breath, and you can smell the tobacco he has been smoking. You hated when he did that. “I know I have been very lenient about your interactions with my own brother, but there are some things that I cannot tolerate in my own home. I think that I do not find comfort in you telling him your interpretations of my intentions.”

He has not spoken enough, yet you find that you feel you are shrinking. The man is mot even looking at you.

You wince. “Are your intentions not kind? Am I wrong to believe you want what is best for him?”

“I do want that for him, but he does not need my compassion— and definitely not your’s. You should stop allowing him to act upon his emotions, people like you can only make excuses for him for such a long time until he grows up.” His gaze is stern, and his words hurt.

People like you? “He is a child. You want to take that away from him too? You know very well that he is starting to think for himself now, you cannot take his own freedom to decide away from him. Allow him to dilly-dally, stop making him feel like you are trying to remind him who he is.” The words are being eaten by your inability to even mask confidence, but you say it with a smile even if you are stung in places you never knew you could feel that sensation. As you always do.

“That is not what I was saying, I was asking something else of you when I called you out to talk—“

“But am I not correct? Your actions translate that way, lord Jaehyun.” Never have you tried to talk back to him like this.

“If you cannot have this conversation with me properly, we will not have this conversation at all. Know your place and we will not have to deal with each other this way.”

And like he always does, he walks away to leave you behind, making you feel as though you are wrong.

~

As you recover from practically experiencing the memory that had just flashed through your mind— you learn that there are visitors who frequent the Jeong manor, but Yuta likes to call them residents as they never seem to leave once they visit.

“You never liked the Yang sisters; lady Eleanor and lady Catherine have always been despicable toward you.”

As you delicately place yourself on the velvet sofa, you try to conceptualize whatever ‘despicable’ would mean in the eighteenth century. Did they call you a wench once before, or did they throw stones at you? “I need to know how terrible they are, that is if you agree that they really are terrible.”

Yuta nods his head too quickly, “terrible is an understatement.” He takes his thumb to rest on the tip of his chin to think of any good instance to prove his point. “When the count Taeyong got engaged a few years ago - even before you were promised to lord Jaehyun - they threw you into the pond and pretended it was an accident.” Considering that he had mentioned you apparently grew up around and knew all of these elitist fools was believable, you would not believe that his father would arrange for his son to marry somebody subpar to him. You hated to groom your ego in this life, but it seemed that the conditions you found yourself in were in favorable grounds (so far.) “I remember lord Jaehyun telling me this story when we were on our way home that night and he had a little too much to drink, he told me the only reason why a fight ensued between you and those sisters was because you were defending one of the uglier girls of the Sui family from them. He thought it was heroic.” Just as you thought the story would have some good resolve, you roll your eyes at the mention of this Jaehyun thinking of you kindly.

The very questionable memory you obtained lay some film of bittersweet in your mouth, the idea of him just filling you with challenge. An attractive man with a dangerously sharp tongue. There was no way in hell that memory could be unreal too; it felt like he was breathing his degradation down into your neck.

“Yes, but what about those girls?” Before you could get off topic, you remind Yuta what you were talking about.

“Nasty leeching ladies who think they are royals and want to get on every single one of your nerves is all I can say.” He says in one go and you laugh. “We expect their arrival by tomorrow; they always come by a day after the lord comes home from business. They wait for the gossip before they ever come visit, but the best part this time around is that they still think you are not here.”

After he teaches you some names of prominent people you were to inevitably meet, this was also after the many hours of other things he mentions, you bid the butler a good night as you were far too tired now to function.

You are brushing your hair as you sit sideways, facing the mirror. The only light guiding your task comes from the candles you have lit. Soft knocking sounds come from your door, and you think that maybe it is Yuta - maybe in the 1800’s there were proper sleeping instructions for ladies.

“Come in.” You call, and the door creaks as it opens.

Shock or surprise are common emotions you have felt over the past few days, and to suddenly discover that you are meant to marry this man in this life - or maybe higher powers require you to marry to be able to figure out why you are here - is something all too heavy in itself. When you were looking for some sense of purpose for the entire year you were chasing some worn out mystery, the last thing on your mind was to look for love or to find that in somebody. Except now that you are presented with this convenient option to love or any semblance of, you decide that you automatically associate him with the disgust of your own annoyance. You find that you almost already dislike like this Jeong Jaehyun.

“Give me a few moments to speak with you,” he looks like he does not want to be here, “my own butler won’t mention a thing of your return. And this is the most appropriate thing to do.” The view of him you could see is a reflection from your mirror, despite the poor lighting you could tell he was a very ravishing man. Damn his good looks.

“Most appropriate thing to do?” You allow a sarcastic laugh to leave your lips. “If you do not like the idea of having a conversation with me out of the kindness of your heart ‘my lord,’” the name drips with sarcasm, “then I advise for you to not have one with me at all. I’m sure you are a very busy man, and I do mot see how this does justice to your time.”

“Have I no right to find out what happened to you?” He does not like your answer.

You turn now to face him. “We can cut to the chase.” The man is not familiar with the figure of speech, and when you notice the look on his face you proceed to speak to avoid any suspicion. “You do not have to act like you care. See I know my place now, and just because we’re socially obligated to marry does not mean you’re morally obligated to care.”

His beautiful face falters; he is a little surprised to hear you talk back to him like this - you always acted so kind despite the awkward air shared between the two of you. “What gives you the right to control what I can’t and can care for?”

“My lord, should we not forget who we are?”

He clicks his tongue onto the roof of his mouth to make a sound, “I suppose not.” He turns away, and before he can leave your room he says a little more. “Good night, lady Y/N.”

-

Clinking sounds filled the long and empty dining table as you sat there, still stirring the tea that was served to you about twenty minutes ago. Your posture was straight and stiff, and you very much looked like you did not want to be here. This was your second morning to wake up here in this place, and no matter how much you ached to believe that this still was unreal - you wondered how long you were to be here. Did the universe prepare some sort of puzzle game for you to figure out who Yuno was, or what the page on the (missing) sketchbook meant? It was all still unclear, especially since you had no plan to start with.

Jeong Jaehyun entered the dining room, dressed impeccably, looking at you like you were some sort of intruder— and you thought that in some way you kind of were. You looked at him with the same level of dislike, if not more. He sat down at the other end of the table, and it seemed that this staring competition was going to be imminent.

“So I told the ugly little thing, ‘if you intend to show your face around here, you should at least learn how to wear lace properly.’” The door from which Jaehyun entered was still very much open, so you could clearly hear the echoing voices coming from the hallway. Upon their entry, you could feel your nerves tingle in annoyance with no known particular reason. But maybe because they are exactly what you expect based on Yuta’s descriptions.

Two girls entered, already nearing Jeong Jaehyun as they walked. They were dressed in obviously finer clothing, and you had to admit that they were gorgeous, although there was a stench in character about them already.

So far in the past forty eight hours you have found yourself in this time warp, you were acting upon a lot of your own instincts.

One of them, the blonde (who you know is Eleanor), notices your presence first - and gasps as if she’s seen a ghost. The brunette notices the other’s expression, and stares right at you.

“She’s here?” It comes out as a whisper from the brunette (who you know is Catherine), but the room is so large that even the presence of four people and the furniture could not mask the echoing the sounds made.

“She is.” You say in your normal speaking voice, wrapping your index finger around the ear of your teacup as you lift it up to your mouth to take a sip. Your sat there in pure confidence, their shock was exciting although you did not understand why it made you feel that way. It was really questionable how their immediate response is to throw a light tantrum at your presence, to which you simply smirk to in your cup.

In Jeong Jaehyun’s mind, he finds the sight quite amusing. Despite your rough encounter the night before, he doesn’t ever remember you ever challenging the Yang sisters like this. When he walked into the dining hall he was surprised to see how you looked like you were ready for any challenge. Although you had always dressed in your preferred color of clothing, the way you walked around and carried yourself had an air of confidence to it. In all the years he has known you, you’ve always been a little more awkward and too far too kind for your own good. But now it seems you are like a feline: confidently striding through your actions and waiting to take a scratch at anything that seemed a threat. Maybe the months have thought you something, and that your disappearance was to blame.

“I thought you disappeared into thin air.” Catherine accuses.

You scoff into your tea, which they obviously both take as an insult because their eyes flare into their own lids as you do so. “And I thought that within the four months I was gone, you probably would have decided to do something much much better with your lives than to intrude somewhere you are not of any help.” Slowly looking directly to them you add, “so I think that leaves the two of us wrong, lady Catherine.”

They both gasp, not coming up with anything better to say. Jaehyun snickers very audibly in his seat, and you are surprised that he sides with you on this.

~

The metal feels rough when it comes into contact with your palms, even your callouses are worn out at this point but you do not seem to be taking much rest. Your work station has become a messy array of tools and the many mismatched papers filled with notes and diagrams.

You were currently creating an alarm system for the kitchen: a timer for when anything was already boiling - just so the maids could multitask when they prepared the meals. It was a little side project you took to making, much like the many other things you just came up with on a whim. There was a big unfinished machine in the middle of the room which felt like it staring at you, but at the moment (and honestly, many many other moments) you could not deal with the monstrosity - so you would do easier projects that cleared your mind off of it.

Creating objects that made life convenient was a thing of interest for you. Remembering how it always captured your attention from very early stages in your life, you made sure you learned about it— mastered it. You were lucky that money could override the implications of your gender. The times were not too kind as to accept a woman into this specific education, but you bought your way right through those odds and it proved to be effective.

With just one last bolt secured in place, you were finally finished.

You would have felt the pure joy of relief after tiring your arms and hands, but Jaehyun walked through your doors without permission. Once again you were reminded that he was not the kindest man when it came to you, and you remembered why you sought out refuge in the room designated for you to practice your profession.

Because both his guests were getting on your nerves, and you did not have half the balls to tell him - so instead you excused yourself without a word and courteously waked out of dinner. You ran to the west wing of the mansion, stopping at nothing to find your place of solace. Your one mistake was leaving the door open.

“I know we are never truly comfortable in each other’s company, but I do want to say that if there is a problem that needs to be addressed then I want you to tell me so we can sort those differences out.” He quickly declares, but you do not understand where this all comes from.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I understand.” You say as you take a cloth and start wiping at the contraption you just finished, but you look at him with curiosity.

“Well I think if you would excuse yourself out of dinner because you cannot handle sharing a meal with me, I would much rather you sit through and pretend as if there is nothing bothering you.” Jaehyun begins to press at your buttons, and inside you cannot breathe.

“That isn’t true.” You eat at your words, but you cannot even look at him.

“If it wasn’t true then my guests would not be speaking of it.” He accuses, and now you can better understand where his anger is coming from. Always has he been so defensive of the Yang sisters. There wasn’t any use in arguing with him now; you knew that he would be set on believing them. “If there’s anything I ask of you, it’s for you to stop embarrassing this household.”

It is painful when you bite your tongue, but you nod your head in return because you know that you do not want to deal with this - and you do not know how. Tears could come out of your eyes any second now, but you keep them from falling. You were going to endure these misunderstandings, as you always did anyway. It was easy to say that you could go on and get out of there, but looking at all of the projects you’ve conducted and the research you’ve put into paper because this place allows you to do as you please with your work— you know you cannot find any other safe place other than the manor.

Donghyuck walks into his brother’s study, and sighs dramatically. Too dramatically.

Jaehyun knows this means that his little brother has something to say, particularly something that bothers him.

“What is it, Donghyuck?” Jaehyun asks so that this would be over with, he had some documents to review and he did not want to prolong his brother’s presence. The last time his little brother burst into the room and sighed as loud as he did, it was because he broke his third wooden flute. Little things that did not really matter to Jaehyun and could be easily fixed with money.

“Lady Y/N has locked herself inside her quarters again.” His little brother pouts and Jaehyun already knows that he is to blame for this— except he knows that he will not

tell the younger lord, “she won’t tell me why. I do know that she tends to be very kind and she prefers not to argue with everybody else, but I think the orphan comment lady Catherine made during dinner was too much. Maybe we need to convince lady Y/N not to be upset about it?” His brother speedily explained, and Jaehyun was left to interpret this. Orphan comment?

“I do not remember hearing anything during dinner.” He tells his brother, but the younger one shakes his head to disagree.

“Just before you joined us right when the lady excused herself, lady Catherine shamed her and called her an orphan.”

From what Jaehyun was told by Catherine, the reason why you walked away so abruptly the moment he entered the dining hall was because you mentioned that you could not stomach his presence. Leading him to confront you in the designated workspace. This was the version of the truth that he knew, and it was the version of truth he was too prideful to even question. Both of the Yang sisters have always outwardly declared their distaste of you, so he did not think twice about the certainty of any orchestration against you. Although he also knew you were closer to his younger brother compared to any of the Yang sisters, he also knew for a fact that his brother would never like to him about anything. He trusted Donghyuck and Yuta this way, that they would never deny him the truth.

Everybody knew of the ill fate of your immediate family, leaving you to be an orphan. But in all the years he knew you, and all the months you lived under his roof - you never mentioned a word of this to him. Probably because he never truly accepted the idea of being betrothed, and you were always just too kind and allowed him to be cold toward you no matter how abrasive his words and his actions became. So to be surprised by this truth was to also be surprised by the guilt: that he assumed and acted upon anger all too quickly.

Jeong Jaehyun never mentioned this again, his pride too high to apologize, but he promised himself that he would be more attentive of you and more so the interactions you had with the Yang sisters.

~

“Yuta, did I have a place to work in the manor before. To maybe practice my engineering?” You ask the butler as pours you some medicinal tea, your head hurts from the vision you just incurred after breakfast and you were now in your bed trying to get rid of the pain through rest. If these visions were real, then you could guess that everything in them were real too.

He looks surprised when you ask this, never getting around to showing you all the nooks and crannies of the house during the first time he showed you around. You asking such a specific question about the house (and the question being right) was not at all expected.

“Yes miss Y/N, one of the rooms at the end of the west wing where there are stairs leading down to the basement floor of the manor,” but then he wonders, “unless you have gone around the manor on your own already?”

But you turn to him hurriedly, gripping at his wrist. “I think I’m going mad, Yuta.” You tell him softly, not to catch him too off guard but he only looks like he is willing to listen. “Memories are coming to me, and I don’t want to believe that they are mine but they feel like they are.”

“Memories?”

“Of this manor, of the people here. It’s all very unclear, and I am not sure how they come to me. That is why I remember my workspace.” You explain, finishing the tea he served. Yuta only quietly cleans up. “Why are you not calling me mad?” You ask him and he pauses.

“I grew up in this mansion with the lords, and they would like to say that they treat me like a brother. It is really a beautiful place, away from the bustle of the centre.” He describes with a smile. “But do not let the countryside fool you; it is much scarier where we are. These walls tell speak many stories, and I am in the point of my life where nothing here truly surprises me anymore.”

Everything used is arranged on his tray, and before he can walk out he finally says, “I think it should have left an impression when I found you looking around in the antiquities, miss Y/N. Good night.”

Slumber is not a friend you make that night, as you are filled with too much thought - pondering upon what Yuta had told you. The overthinking causing you to magnify all of the troublesome details in the dark of your room: the dust, the smell, the thick sheets. You scramble in the darkness, looking for a candle and something to light the fire.

To your surprise, you allow your feet to take you where they can remember. The halls seem long and winding in the dark, the only light you see comes from the warm hues of your candle. Wax dripping around the metal that holds it.

There is a metal door, with a heavy latch that blocks the entrance. You think that this it is impossible to enter, but your mind goes back to the memory that went through your mind earlier and you allow your eyes to close. Feeling each curve and groove of the door, you press upon some of them - and it works. They are like buttons that sink inside the frame of the door, and although the illusion of the latch is the most eye-catching thing about this door it is pure genius how it all actually works.

Once you enter, all the lamps in the room light up and you follow the template of vein like structures that lead to the lamps on the wall— a mechanism that sparks up the gas lamps whenever the door is opened. A primitive wiring system in itself.

Although it all should be alien to you, your eyes flicker across the room and it looks like how it was in your head. Messy but at the same time neat, the big contraption sitting in the middle of the room - dust collecting at the top of all of the objects in the room. They were right when you were told that you were gone for four months, because the molds growing in the corners perfectly said so too. It feels like wonderland as you observe all the tools and the way they were designed— it seemed that they were not created in this century, looking like that from the future.

You stumble upon the large table in the room, covered in all random objects. Then you turn to the papers scattered, and you see that the penmanship in most of the notes are unmistakably your own. Thinking that you own self, if this was truly you, would probably not leave any clues in notes about machines - you turn your attention elsewhere.

Reaching out in a pile of envelopes all stacked upon each other, you read the labels to find out who addressed them out to you.

Lord Taeyong was inquiring about how he can improve his makeshift security system.

Some duke about the rejection of his proposal from years ago.

And the last two letters— probably the most controversial ones of the evening: the Count Moon Taeil in an unopened envelope, and one from Yuno with only his name and yours written on the front.

end of second part

next: third part

[yet-another-saberface]

Interim Headcanons: Fuyuki -> Orleans

This is the first in what’ll be a series of story posts that are ‘Interims,’ or what takes place in between singularities! (Other than the eventual events.) They have less heavy story content but are still necessary because they do contain character stuff.

This one has a fic section roughly in the middle of the post! It’s around 1500 words & in the first person POV, which is actually what I’m most experienced with writing, so I hope everyone can enjoy that! There should be another short fic post coming out before I start on Orleans that’s less story and more slice of life stuff, but I’m still figuring out what exactly I want to do with that and had everything else done, so I decided to post it now!

We’re summoning some people, so get ready!

Between Fuyuki and the first real singularity, Eva practically refuses to have any downtime. She’s told that she should take it easy, let her leg heal, and wait for them to pinpoint the appropriate rayshift point. At some point they’ll help her set up the summoning circle for backup, but until then, she doesn’t need to be doing anything.

Instead of following those orders, Eva essentially ends up doing the work of multiple people herself. She hangs around the command room, usually standing the entire time, and will rush over to help anyone that seems to be having any difficulties. One of your numbers seems off? She’ll double-check it for you and if it’s correct she can explain exactly why. Tech isn’t working? Not her area of expertise but she’ll troubleshoot it until she can’t anymore, at which point she runs off to find Da Vinci. Something weird happening magically? You better bet she’s all over it and probably pushing you out of your workstation to handle it herself.

After a day or two, Roman notices what’s going on and takes her aside. She’s promptly banned from the command room unless someone asks for her to be there.

She tries to hide her disappointment… Which is surprisingly easy when the only emotion you can really convey at the moment is ‘tired?’ She heads back to her room, takes her boot off, and collapses onto her bed trying to figure out what else she should do, falling asleep in the process.

She wakes up around a full day later with a brilliant idea.

She’s gonna set up the summoning circle and perform the ritual herself. She forgets about the boot and immediately rushes off the Chaldea’s library with the intent of double-checking her memory.

She actually ends up spending a lot more time in the library than she intended when she finds out just how expansive it is. There’s all the books on magic she’s read before, along with literally everything else she could ever hope to find. This is how she finds herself filling a crate with somewhere upwards of 15 books and dragging it back to her room after leaving a note so people know who took them.

Mash catches her as she’s heading back with the books, glad to see that she seems less tired. When Mash offers to help with the books, Eva tries to say no, until Mash notices that she isn’t wearing her boot anymore. 

“Senpai, did Doctor Roman say your ankle is okay now?” “Uh… Wait. Right. My ankle is injured. Still. Crap.”

It’s only then that she starts to notice how the pain is coming back from all the unsupported weight she’s been putting on the injury, and finally accepts Mash’s offer to help with the books. When they finally get them back to Eva’s room, Mash makes sure that Eva actually puts on the boot this time. Afterwards, Eva is posed with a question she’s not sure if she should answer.

“What are you planning on doing with all of these books?” A pause. “I was just going to refresh my memory! I’ve done a lot of research into servants and stuff in the past, but I’m not sure how much of it I actually remember…” “That’s a wonderful idea, Senpai! Do you mind if I borrow some of these?” “Oh… No, go ahead! Just uh… Not this one, I was gonna start here!” She conspicuously grabs the book on rituals.

She spends the rest of the day reading up on how summoning rituals work, and later that night, when the fewest people possible are awake, she sneaks off to the summoning room that was pointed out to her earlier… 

        I open the door to the summoning room to find darkness. It’s unexpected, unsettling. Darkness is not something easily found in Chaldea, where everything is lit up with screens and fluorescent lights. It’s fitting, I guess, that humanity’s last hope should be constantly illuminated. But if that’s the case… Then why is it here, of all places, that I find darkness? Doubt creeps into my mind, as it always does. Millions of questions spring from that first one, slowly weighing me down, and looming over me like a shadow. Is this really a good idea? Maybe there’s a reason they said I should wait for their help setting this- No. I can’t just not do it. I need to prove it. That I’m capable of being the Master that saves humanity. And this is the first step. The light from the hallway illuminates just a bit of the room, but it’s enough that I can see that a circle has indeed already been drawn on the floor. Good. Now I just need to take care of… Everything else. I feel around on the walls by the door for a light panel until I finally knock my hand against it. The room lights up in blues and whites, unlike anything else in the facility, leaving me in awe. This is definitely the place to be doing magecraft. Glancing around a bit more, the room appears to be empty… With one exception. Tucked into the back right hand corner, there’s a small stack of white crates. Okay, then. Let’s start there. I make my way around the edge of the circle that takes up most of the room, ducking my head a few times as I try not to disturb any of the floating bands of light throughout the room. I don’t know exactly what they are, but I can’t afford to take any risks. When I reach the boxes, and carefully remove the lid of the top one to find it full of prism-like stones, each one containing every possible color. They’re big enough that I can only fit one in the palm of each hand, and are lighter than I expect. I set the one I’d been holding back down in the box, rummaging for the book I’d stuffed into my pocket before coming over here. I skim through the pages for just a second before landing on the one I’d marked earlier. Stones, stones… Gems, maybe? Why are these here? I’m halfway down the page when it hits me. They’re probably catalysts. I have no idea if they’re meant to summon anyone in particular, but there’s little chance they’re anything else. Summoning’s supposed to be easier with a catalyst, right? There’s several boxes of these… Surely using a few wouldn’t be noticed. And besides, most catalysts stick around even once the summoning is complete. Most of them. Hopefully that’s how these work. Given that I’m unsure what exactly they are, I grab 3 just to be safe after setting my book down on the floor. With one in each hand and a third tucked against my chest by my upper arm, I carefully inch a toe into the summoning circle. Nothing happens. …Okay then. It’s probably not activated yet. That’s good. I set the stones down in the very center, one at a time, so that they’re arranged in a triangle formation, before walking out of the circle as quick as I can. Still, nothing happens. Good. No surprises. I put the lid back on the box, grab the book, and then walk back around to close the door for good measure. Something tells me I don’t want anyone walking in on this. Circle, catalyst, mage… There’s no way this is as easy as it seems, is there? There’s gotta be a catch to it. But… If there is one, it’s definitely not mentioned at all. So all I can do is hope that what works in theory works in reality, like always. So I set my book down and stand my ground in front of the door, facing the circle. Don’t screw up the incantation. Remember how you changed it. Remember your theory. This is all gonna work out just how it’s supposed to. I take a deep breath. I blink. And before I speak, I picture it in my head. A drop of ink hitting paper, spreading a deep blue color across the white page. With that, I can feel the familiar hum and warmth of magic circuits spread through my body, giving me focus. I can do this.

“Let silver and steel be the essence. Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation. Let my own hope and faith in humanity be what allows it. Let a wall rise against the wind that shall fall. Let the four cardinal gates close. Let the three-forked road from the crown reaching unto the kingdom rotate. Know this; I am all the good remaining in the world. I stand against all the evil threatening our world. And it is I that shall come to have dominion over that evil. Heroic Spirit, attended to by the three great words of power, Come forth from the right of restraint, keeper of the balance!”

As I progress through the lines of the chant, I can feel more and more magical energy building up in my body, desperately trying to be released. But that heat, that feeling of everything building up, cannot compare to what happens as I end the spell. All of the energy is pulled from my body at once. I can feel each and every individual nerve fighting against it, to no avail. It’s like my heart has stopped beating, yet is also beating too fast. I’m hit with a sudden migraine, yet the next second, it seems like it was never there in the first place. And all the while, I’m forced to close my eyes because the room, once dimly lit, is now full of a blinding white. And while they’re closed, images flash through my mind. Fire. Death. A silhouette, unidentifiable. And finally the back of a boy, my age, in a Chaldea uniform, standing at the ready. I hear something incredibly loud, some sort of boom, though maybe that’s not the best way to describe it, followed by a much quieter cracking noise, as the light behind my eyelids fades away. My hearing starts to recover, but I’m scared to open my eyes. I have no idea what just happened. Did it work? Was all of that meant to happen? The book hadn’t mentioned any of that. So I stand there, listening and breathing. Hoping against hope that everything is okay. Until I hear someone speak. “I ask of you, are you my Master?”

As I finally open my eyes, another girl stands before me in the center of the circle. The stones are gone. (Dammit.) As she looks at me expectantly, her green eyes seem to see right through me. I can’t tell if I’m being judged or not. But as I take in the rest of her, I do my best to offer a response, however quietly. “Yeah. I… I’m your Master.” It’s barely more than a whisper, riding along a shaky breath. So much for seeming confident. We stand in silence for a few more seconds as I catch my breath. It worked. It really worked. That’s a Servant. Right there. In front of me. That I summoned. This time when I look at her, I begin to notice things without trying beyond her physical appearance. For starters, she’s a Saber. Wait a- That’s not any Saber. That’s. “You’re King Arthur.” “That… Is correct, Master,” she replies, showing slight confusion. “Holy… Okay. Um.” As I’m pausing to take a breath, the door behind me slams open. I jump a bit, and when I land, pain shoots through my leg. My boot broke during the ritual. I glance behind me to find Mash, Roman, Da Vinci, and a few other staff members staring. “Senpai, what did you-” “IsummonedaServant,” I blurt out, trying to shift as much weight off my right foot as possible. When everyone keeps staring, I add on a halfhearted “...Sorry?” There’s a collective sigh from the group, none of whom really seem to know what to do. “You do realize we told you to wait, right?” Roman asks. “Yes, but I thought I could handle it, because I’ve studied this a lot, and clearly I can handle it, because it worked, so-” “Chaldea actually has an alternate summoning system-” Da Vinci starts, but I cut her off. “...Oh. Of course! That… Makes a lot of sense now.” I find myself looking towards the ground. “Why’d I go and do this?” I add at the last second, quieter than the rest. “Don’t worry, this is nothing I can’t handle!” Da Vinci responds. “Just make sure to let us know before you summon anyone again, okay?” “Okay,” I respond, still quiet. When no one else says anything, Roman speaks up again. “All right then, everyone else should get back to what they were doing.” He glances at the leg the boot had broke off of, even more worried than before. “Mash and…” “Saber,” the other Servant answers. “Right. Mash, Saber, can you help Eva to the infirmary for now?” The two of them nod before stepping over to me and adjusting so that each of my arms is over one of their shoulders. I cringe a bit when I have to adjust my right leg, and soreness is slowly starting to spread through the rest of my body. This idea is continually turning out to have been way worse than I thought it would be.

So, as it turns out, Eva continually doing things that put strain on her injury has set back the healing process, and even when it does heal, it’s likely still going to be weaker than it was. She won't need a cane or anything, but she should still be wary of it and avoid relying on her right leg too heavily from now on. Running and other simple physical activity is fine, but should she need to say, kick something, she should absolutely favor her left leg unless she’s made the necessary precautions and given her right ankle the support it needs to prevent more injuries. 

They get her a new boot and she’s essentially grounded for 2 days, not allowed to leave her room. They also start cutting the lights in her room on a schedule for as long as she’s grounded so that she’s forced to sleep.

She emerges, somehow, both less tired and more grumpy. Everyone catches on pretty quickly that she’s getting antsy because she’s not allowed to do anything, so they decide to set up the summoning system and let her try out a summoning that won’t make her injuries worse.

She’s initially hesitant to try any summonings with the more tech-heavy system, but she eventually agrees to go ahead with it after Da Vinci spends over an hour explaining every intricacy of how it works and how it differs from normal summoning. It’ll work, according to magical theory, so she doesn’t have anything to lose by trying it out.

This time, instead of just a single servant, she actually manages to summon several, those being Medusa, Caster Cú, Archer Emiya, and Saber Alter.

The tension between the 2 Sabers is pretty obvious, so Eva does her best to make sure that they aren’t forced to interact much while still spending time with and attempting to understand each of them. Since they’re both pretty reserved, it’s a slow process, but at least she figures out pretty quickly that they both really love food.

Cú is still salty that he’s not a Lancer, but is still glad to have at least been summoned again. He’s actually rather surprised by just how much Eva immediately puts value in him. She starts carrying a notebook around with her, and will write in it whenever she notices something new about Runes she didn’t know before. He actually tries to help her use Runes at one point, but it ends up blowing up in both their faces because Eva was focusing more on her anxiety than on the effect she wanted to achieve. 

Eva knew literally nothing about Emiya, so more than pretty much every other Servant that’s around, she tries to seem professional around him. That completely collapses when he catches her in the kitchen at 3 in the morning halfheartedly making grilled cheese. From then on she’s a lot more casual and every once in a while she pesters him incessantly about Reality Marbles. She’ll probably eventually figure out that he knows more about the Sabers than he lets on.

Medusa actually surprised Eva a bit. While Eva knows a lot about her from mythology, it took awhile for her to figure out anything about her as a Servant, other than what she could discern from practice battles. The first real bit of progress she makes is when she finds Medusa reading in the library. Now they just kinda have one of those “sit and read in silence together” type friendships.

Eva isn’t exactly all hyped up for whenever the next singularity is identified, but she promises herself that she won’t be scared to go and do whatever’s needed in order to correct it. After all, she has more allies this time, and it seems like her magecraft is getting better by the day. Now all that’s left is to save humanity.

New Servant Log:

Artoria Pendragon (Saber)

Artoria Pendragon (Alter)

Cú Chulainn (Caster)

Emiya (Archer)

Medusa (Rider)

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