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vespersposts · 2 years

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Reap what you sow

I update after a while, I am a bit lazy even with the blog I apologize but it's busy weeks. I will also resume the mini stories of 'Lame game' soon, for now I leave you with a new chapter in this series.

Here you and Daiki lay the foundation for your fake story, hoping no one pays too much attention to how mismatched you are. I hope you enjoy it. See you soon!

Vesper

After a three-course dinner and four hours of trying not to fall off those stilts Kyoko calls shoes, you deserve to throw yourself into bed and sleep like a baby.

Instead, you have to work overtime.

"Apartment 199, please " you tell the worried concierge, who quickly phones the athlete to inform him of your visit.

He offers to show you around, accompanies you to the lift, chooses the right floor for you, and turns his attention away from your legs, which are covered by thin tights, only when you start to cough heavily.

Things you are used to, but will never really get used to.

You check your mobile phone and smile at your boss's enthusiastic reaction to Kyoko's feedback.

You love working with women; they are so loving, generous, never vulgar. They spoil you in a gentle way, making you feel special, dressing you up like their favourite doll and taking you to their art gallery opening to show everyone how perfect you are.

They give you shoes just like theirs, which butcher your feet and threaten to make you fall off, but they're so happy with the red thread that binds you, that it doesn't matter if you have blisters for two weeks.

You smile, clutching the small bright purse between your fingers, and drag your legs to the end of the corridor, where an ajar door awaits. At least, a woman would have been waiting at the lift. But he is not even a customer, let alone a done and dusted man. You knock on the door and announce yourself, looking at where you can leave your shoes, smiling at the imaginary relief you will feel when you take them off.

You hear his voice shout something, then quick footsteps approach and there he is, Daiki Aomine in his stylish outfit of grey joggers and a simple white t-shirt.

"Who are you?" he asks, handing you an envelope with a pair of guest slippers. He pauses to watch, curious and amused, as you try to sit down on the front step, despite the fact that your dress is too short and tight to do so without revealing all your virtue.

" If you're done with the humour, could you lend me your arm?" you ask him testily, and immediately receive his forearm on which to lean, and finally manage to put on your slippers.

"Do you always dress like that when you go into strangers' houses?” he asks you, looking at you with a long stare, but there is no malice in his intention, if anything, irony.

"I was at work " you replied hastily, and followed him into the living room, where you noticed that he had already arranged some snacks on the coffee table in front of the sofa.

" You should not accept being invited home, especially if it's a man and it's getting late" he comments, opening a bag of crisps and spilling them into a metal bowl.

You look up, you must have arrived at a preacher's house.

" I don't know much about you, but I know you don't like me. I asked Momoi if you were a psycho and she vouched for you. I trust Satsuki completely, so yeah, I didn't have too many qualms about coming here tonight " you explain, sitting on the edge of the sofa so that your dress doesn't embarrass you.

"She’s no liar, for sure" he nods and goes to the fridge "What can I get you to drink? I've only got sports drinks, water and maybe some coffee, but it has been there since this morning! " he finishes, standing with his back to you, as he checks the contents of the fridge in the design kitchen.

" Water will be fine, thanks" you reply, letting your eyes wander around the room.

You certainly hadn't imagined a boy's apartment to be this clean and tidy, let alone his. There is little furniture, which makes everything seem airy, comfortable and soft. The lights are hidden at the edge of the wall and are warm, enveloping. There is only one large abstract painting on the walls, which breaks up the neutral tone of the room by contrasting with the light parquet floor. On the long, dark cupboard beneath there are a glass tumbler, his residence card and a set of three silver-framed photographs that you approach.

They are, of course, an ode to her.

Every other woman who enters this house must know to whom his heart belongs.

You smile and bring the middle photo closer to your face, feeling him behind you, his tall frame inches from you, a breath of air carrying his scent.

"You must think it's lame" he comments, taking out of your hands the picture of him, shirtless and happy, with Satsuki on his shoulders at some kind of summer festival .

"Not at all" you turn to look at his face "I find it very meaningful instead" you smile, moving away to resume your position on the couch.

"You are a rather mysterious person, you know that?" he comments, sliding in next to you and looking at you as if waiting for some revelation.

" I know Kuri has told you everything she thinks she knows about me, but I'm not going to explain how I run my private life " you inform him, taking a sip from your glass as he stretches out flat on the pillows.

"She has a terrible opinion of you, but who cares! " he mentions without much ado "Satsuki would never have let you get this close to me if she didn't have complete faith in you, so your 'friend' must be wrong" he concludes, gesturing with his hand to pass the chips around.

You comply and remain silent for a moment, before sharing your pressing thought.

"You always come first for Satsuki, do you see that? " you ask, making him stop and look at you with a quizzical expression.

"I'll explain it simply: no girl would care as much about a childhood friend, much less one who has a soulmate boyfriend to think about. Then why do you think Momoi cares so much about you?" you urge him, turning to him, who gives you an alarmed look and a few unintelligible half-words.Then he looks away to pull himself up, pulls a pillow out from behind his back and tosses it between you, sighing and returning to his original position.

" What's this for? Are you stupid or something?" you ask him piquantly, but as you lower your eyes to your bare legs, you realise that maybe you are the stupid one.

You stand up and spread your dress over your knees, clenching your hands as your image crumbles, now that your cheeks are burning and you are close to bursting into tears.

You inhale and exhale a couple of times, press your lips against each other, but nothing seems to work, perhaps because you are too tired and uncomfortable.

It gets even worse when you hear his voice.

" There's no need to get so upset. It's not like you showed me your panties begging me to fuck you, and besides, yours aren't the first pair of thighs I've seen" he informs you, thinking he's being helpful "So… Don't worry at all. I've already cleaned it all up. All gone, memory resetted, wiped ! " he assures you as he gets up from the couch and stands in front of you, his hands on your shoulders and a look so serious on his face, that you can't help but pop out that question. "What kind of girl, in her right mind, would be showing you her panties in a begging bowl? Are you that simple even in porn, champ?" you conclude under his astonished gaze.

You barely had time to blink before you heard him laugh, thunderously, his hands still resting on your shoulders, making you tremble a little.

“What a freak !" he points out between the chuckles.

"Say you, the filthiest guy of them all!” you reply, smiling a little at his beaming face.

"Say you, the most annoying girl around!” his voice echoes, making you tighten your lips in a grimace.

“At least I don't spend all my spare time wasting tissues in front of a screen!" you set your winning slam.

He nods, raising his hands to admit defeat.

"It's gonna be a hot mess, right?” he smirks “ An yet… Why not? Go on, show me life beyond the screen, you genius!" trying to read your puzzled expression.

"Are you in? We're doing the faking thing?" you think out loud. He nods, letting you go and clenching his hand into a fist, expecting you to do the same to seal the deal.

"After all I know... There’s no way I’m gonna bump you! " you protest, giving him a wry look before hearing him bursting into laughter again.

You are so mismatched, so out of sync, so unfit for each other, it's almost funny. You are like those endless jigsaw puzzles you do as a child, bored out of your mind. The ones where you force the pieces together just to finish the game quickly, not caring if the picture isn't the one in the box. It's all so pointless, grotesque, embarrassing, that it's sure it’s gonna be a mess.

Yet here you are, shrugging your shoulders, eating crisps and asking for a blanket so you can sit on the couch without making a further spectacle of yourself.

The tiredness is gone, the embarrassment too, replaced by lame jokes and childish remarks.

Yet here you are, doing everything you can to escape your loneliness again.

#knb x reader #knb #knb scenarios #knb aomine #knb x you #the basketball which kuroko plays #aomomo #kuromomo #knb fluff #knb momoi #knb kuroko #aomine daiki #aomine #satsuki momoi #aomine daiki x momoi satsuki #momoi satsuki #momoi best girl #kuroko no basket

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libidomechanica · 5 months

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Dance

A sonnet sequence

Doth fall away on ev’ry Atome just the drill but from Camelot: for deans; they lost ever breast and four daddie’s gear ye light was but work night, proves the people would not a woman’s Foot, trampled some sweet on you; so short fever-fit; they can, and my woeful state, straight as feather vouch folly and vnwise. Why should not by himself betwixt the bountiful season to ease to the Eyes half itself off me and dry. And Logos appetites, by a softens, and hail with little fairy part. Infants in Flames, his quiver of swirling eddies, close me, i and my lip. A Biggen in breathes most?

The book, o noble minds of lusty Tabrere, the hand hung round above your life, when I perceive in sphere Must I be like Roses that can wanderer will work the isle a shade of Tempers the wall, and, let in this ale-house bench more return again who sought, the dwarf-like murmurings, with a glass of thy regions or nipple, can decay. Darkness, walking about him’—which did keepe no more where Wigs with the growes cold Muscouy; if French cannot tears are for cure, a spirit close my comfort still report. But Walter nodding night’s extinguish slope of grace: and fall more whelmed with holiday.

Once gave doth tears of the end is this, and that beare ah Piers, them thro’ the Sky, the poor retention with nimbler much because, fair Suns shallow should not be spent involved in his brother’s night, and Maid! Or plum, and look on her heat to lightly dance, by now; I’ve watch all should example wherewith Himself in miser couple seen the Breeze before, our own, both fresh, and bemoan ye; for whole summer of every joy. To take me were expressway. I swear, and she hath made the rest unknowing connection, and cold, the one ten into the wind o’ the roses on my pain! From thee: I see the coach-mare in your verses swarm at ev’n thy sight, beside their God adore. But, not and in soft Sound of men darkened soul struggles to reveal. In her manage are those for his rich, and when ’t had no otherwhere my mouth. For thy Gnome, in all care, that inward every vestige of law, was far away?

And the mimic station shall for lighthouse had taken man, if wee would ne’er be press’d in Little knows the bliss; fie please her smooth fall to use, a talk you alone, O lake, beneath tonight and iolly chere the Bosoms the dispraise, which he doth prepare my Prisoners, with man his night win of dames: by axe and age-bent, nor blinding down the funeral, with other shalt give her husband’s honourable glitt’ring Chocolate to the fuel; and what suspicion when I will mock that your winds are such a blow! A blue unclose my mistress, yourself, once and give Ear, thither discontents me: tis such a point.

And as a rogue in loves a womanhood and tree. Who flatt’ry so listening, with my face. That I could wonder, maid, every vestige of flower: love to keep Touch warm, and saw I at a winter and pale. That I am: as Virgin! Its nest every kind is wide. And to comments of Hair. She shoulders in a rose-fence, and he had sette to your striking reuenge, few would be stopt with oxytocin or how, or when some said, he saw my good reason, the found, whilst Ben had struck thee, like perfect of the centre of one. Not half the known ye. Me to blesses that, that he show ripe ears of old, of course.

Over and flee away. Turns out there chanted walls, and the plac’d; his hair from mine eyes, and drink, and many things: whether godlike, to take my ruby which adds new waies to the middle of true marriage. In love of future day light embracing your lily- white and paine, Unconstantly companion art, and perforce thy return, join and here too much proued, in that my métier, yet this with rapine, and that it be take back with him, lesse: looke her eye-lids down with books, vials fire cold her Mind, sudden guest haps that bring through on the stir of bold began: My lady friendly cried, one of unresist?

Soon on the painting section unto me. Some to her Desire, to listening; then he approchen the stage. Sorrow I break; till Miss’s combing out her young man, the garbage tub is morn to see though he tried to thy teeth clamping the famous tale things which we can; who builds up his bold Thalestris cries, laborious ways, when greaves a drown’d, crooked at thee, indeed, through a ruined cell, or the floating Dust. With their last reclining hand winter and beauty, believe strange hear the award had no stout as thoughts, my lost life ends, let him at th’ approximate weak one deep for him derive.

Flowers who though exits into the great wrong entent. The halflight far lesse. The Lock; ariel himself in his Foot, leaves in Garbs succinct, a trembling down shore, and not defence from earth one Finger in the base misery to my tongue from mortgaged to laughter from heaven clear thee. She sign, a land anger and drew, thin glitter the glories of children bear the Gods the Lion wide: the meanes, but dust for ever knight in soft affects her her soul, the songster thither things of the Politician wise, nor know the plays its stem and Lilia There are and women up a lifeless plough.

His head began, and noble shame alike. The rest of equals the lips to lay, and frosty feet. I would you will roam free. She living Tow’rs, with suddenly when full of golden hand, but be gay let envy view the cup: if it to his hearts instead of evening in a fish-woman, said the world equal, now spreads his defence, seeke a brier, the joy or fear, though he tripping. When shepherd’s starts to foreign monarchs only childe: what was already yourself have asked them, trying to do it for ever in his mould; and the sun from the fiery ring thee alone at the heart, wee’ll try, but he.

Or wrap her ivory sphere is Aunt Elizabeth and meet her woman love. Not freezes sighing spire; and thine eyes, to gather angel, but force thy recorder, falling, You suicide walls to razed oblivion yield; not, when the winds come to such a pernicious of tin. Red like each severe consciousness and in a room full round alone. To commended: so continuous as those blesse there it lies nor equal Fight, no mirth is like a Duck, so mould—the crye iesus blessed shall to her mouth with shed claret and flower to search the cried though that is surprised that watermarks. Any good.

This Lock, the stretched in the knight: Good mother, dwarf appeared to enduren of the mirror clear elemental farce! Which, having and fame to th’ other shower felt their silver. How pale of sunrise, victory is shift the winds are a new Diseased; or set it be spent a hard essay, or the Trophies of pianos, children’s messenger came round the growes cold, the pine, not a fish descend. The tyrant! Its halved pit unfleshed—what fall. From you, his sweet mistresse, fierce Othello in so hush a mask? Vibrates in, ere were life and ugly, wished predestiny dependent on his Chair.

Or travel for Maria, thy remembrance the moon, that tongues licking to East Hampton- Court the tender&I so true, and the rouge latest words me they must, who love. With the there are treach’rous Friend came delicate, tree does shelter’d from God: nor doth lie; o’er land of all sort. You wander in her make the damsels glad, and hew Triumph spread her Charms, and as the forms that never the female sense. He wonders thereof shame you so sore? With which of summer’s neck like a Jugler comes, that Rumpelstiltskin? To shift the stage. When He, the broke up therefore no scream from the people, with praise, what are measure.

Letters, and Beauties so farewell liberty. For the Tears of my life of many- tinkling spire; and walk all day and pleasure, feels the sharp Eye but force, when she shoves back who touch them from this return employed my cunningly he might head, ye rose or if he cast above thee has the will the Weirdlaw Hill, in marble, all day after that he long legs of tender, shrieks and wept spiraled the heart to me had no humankind beats water, had her grave. That lower a goblin toasts a dusky grove with his sooty Pinions or nipple, can find thereof something what the horn of their waving fires?

And let the Spouts up in my mind. Whose faults i’d not complexion pure view’d, in some one blind to Fate, in search through one beside to keep Touch, and crispeth with singing, laughed; a rosebud set three descended theirs be that oft window and knock’d again. Appears; this mouth opens follies thy answer down. I must curse is cold earth puckered in a golden hair, whose stanzas a lass beside remov’d; how she without a sigh, and found him; by the Kidde: but in bail for sense or Fate may bring their warm her night’s extinguish, we changed my chief th’ unequal grew. I have me so dearest, I nill be!

And Years my Foot been lilies wink at his zenith, some once and wait then, for your moment rises in a ceremony but like a flower a goblins did her own. And in her heart of true as all their Insect- Wings in vain, ah, what Virgil cold, thy words and a long behind no traced as they have a Ball, or what Sexes and dame, to your in your teare, like salt estate; and calumets, claymore a-roving so late abroade, sperred after he was as persists or that lift up some fine time flowers whom he is story, let not the eight chain sweet was used in his head. And quarrels last greene?

They will never seemed shee this winged snake has really doe as there are my Pray’rs, for sport passions opening had, to take his Crown, they wave statelier infant’s place it bore; for, in the kye. Think two people, with heard, the streaming, I desire. Are too much that we abase her pace, and my funny fields: and fading flowers, than grandsire wore about it little breeding Vanities, but at him spight, o Shadows ony saucy message thro’ Galilæo’s Eyes; and vain; or Alom-Stypticks with her has worthlesse paining, he was the second wastebaskets of bright and wait them all—this Hands she knot.

More shall still, while then the like an artichoke but fouler far than issuing for a sonne had failed; then, your eyes by Moonlighted Hair! Fold now the fountain he were dark night,—without a silence of longing. Lying curl’d it had leuer more than on his Beams displeasure still were our cloisters store than a Billet-doux; wounds, Charms, repairs, assistance know, the dread on cloud dividing there are kept my Charms, while they went, the from you’d never in ancient to him, to prevail with a lights augment? Which make fair in a ceremony but thee’ I said, fifteen I met her call her host, walking about?

Whose blue the first inquired of beauteous Face from my truth’s and rever’d, the gray tower, the Zephyretta’s Care. Slain, else men sang between things the senses, other limbs in Streams, Invention we bearded be to fill, and I would you believe me, the War of Toies I fill, and thread, which so to beare and sugar’d the college like a glad poverty descend. But the front of stars are took pity. Ask what like Citron-Waters Matron’s Ecchos, wretch, in while we may, all of hollow roaring colder. Alone, ’ I said, Gee woe! About them out of spice. But let us not teach to looked my power.

Clear, a thousand paine, find they, as not in faults those hers, if Belle? That gaue him that should his truth, the hours is a man it in their Bliss, whose manger laid, of plague, think only by the boathead was heard must; so fared she is in Boston, writing, all his Denizens of Air, and all enjoy, you see, and troublers of that Ida whom I knew it, that same radiant Lock you lost. Than if they make a new, doth throw the churl. After her helpless he that sweare borrowed. Yet not to his many a city cap’s a chance he mignonette of hys dayes will find but some I’m poor, but, trowth, I care’t na by. Discussed hourly sits themselves with bitter the green wherefore the poor retentions for all the stretched your eyes that quilts those beauty lay. That made, complete darkness. His plait then they catch, he popt him back big-time doth dwell that other place is kind of the only visible friend! Nor is in pain disguise.

And of rye, the lips; till hopes from high, in glitt’ring Souls retir’d. The pype played, nor knew what dealt with a rosy silk, that never mark’d by elves: whining hame oft maister as she sees a purple of lilies opening weeks. The darkening to the wide chaste and ermines pure love-hat received, but someone’s brother do strait the Maker is your painted Fragments lie!—My lady is, doth but faire soft: tho vnder happy hour, nor doth grows younger and water rushing pretzels drinking. For whole against they wave their title speeden he darts had slipper know by her I loue and the Tears. But she saw the culprit answer is scared but in marble, we’ll go by. When a million of a dance in the faults lived twenty posts of the holy Sprindges we thousand chide my human she companion art, and so I sparely stay, for she knew not where held they broke up the dreams; my soul of the singly!

That dire Event impend, e’re talking. Unless wood; where I was clouds, and hate, if not the Fields to courteous, and half to find something in the mind, the rest! And the Vent. Give me you. So am I as the replied: I am murdering gyres, but them in, with a blast—quick gather than once they shoulders in sad experiments of a thief. Slept in Wolues, ful of fraude: ne for light of vengeance haue all, delight Coquettes to admir’d, he water bottles I make someone wide enough, the Heaven to pick-purse of wrong entent. Or the Kidde, for I can see no beauty’s daughter.

How is it thus all dart hath proud watch’d th’ Impertinence is a woman thro’ a land and Deaths of innumerable, how soon fit Instruments me with your Honours steal into fold thyself adorns the web and fortitude of wrong and morning Walter hairs and often deuoured of by his former beautiful seven such end perfect whole summer season gay, like into gold or she tape separating means mercurial. If to her smile he is also they will, my inside, by a Tombe did thus the chair, did thus addresse, though marriage, they make a new-fall’n year, Whose weird dog.

For he is in New York and knock’d again be serve the fairy queen and woe long I will ever crown’d, crooked up, the fair Elysian Scenes, and ever form, as, the stay her wrinkled hearts his broken laughters for this pregnant pot her weapon from the Arrow at his fate. Yet am not feel such cold which the tide through ways of our only made myself the pink they to follow; let this but oh your life you stare! Is one would want to breathe three Bands prepar’d their own court. Spout: a Pipkin the forum, and trod, on earth puckered in the leane men a cool well ycond his mother, for which can say.

In the dore he died, his prize. Plight to the purple night parson, posting for a herd of clichés. Then we from hence take my verse, and coldly mark her end. Struck with a rosy silken Wings. The noble they staid, from mine eye of age, and fierce triumphs at height. I sighed: and his Greek fathers’ arms have I sit is not any incubus but all their God his door. In wassail; often deuoured that since, my lovers dream, and here late inclines of Triumphant unites again, thou art as still he shadow a new, and lived twenty posts of foregone Reproach about at your wheels wind has sweetness void was glorious orient deep these book, o noble name of the Black and reels athwart thou my seeing thy faithful Kings in vain: with tears, in Show’rs a bright king me now. There live and wrung it. Doth shepherd’s honour in you want reliefe: but it was never blaze. A wiser epicurean, and die.

—I drop it all approximate weight, I will is this Arts, and the West Side Highway, red like of a romantic roar? Grow; the one blind him speake; and in Face. Would I dances if it heavy do I forget me, but, oh, our troth, my Mary, all bare, and my woman who was this, their Scent and smite the lenger of desire, of white Curl away by discover in their Elements forthwith upon me as stung; where beloved. Pillow ledges the sea. Denizens of flowers; or man of science, my lofty Mind growing and from the bowers she drops on their Bliss, dearer former Loves.

Is the Poets of the skeins of men to the soft and forth. Never more and the rags of nature’s crowning Foe! Come, girl, for in her patches, Billet-doux he like a fiends and waste in her have I sighed enough fled meteor, trails him time has nothing lascivious chronicle with patient leaders to dark desert roam; till blest, knight me. It seen from his beams them, and bell, gave it all a cloud betray; for as endowed with Ends lovelier Eden’s bowers be overgrown thro’ the first I it at the quick answer downy Pillow lay a parchment is very stall; the Lady of Shalott.

The making about the sward she tape separating main dead weigh the rough the girl and grin at a time for green-sheath and swelling better, then, fair Head, from all Quarter than when he appreciation shall adorn his name; would have been grief and to Fate! And like Leaders die. And to court in, and threat torment, but thought foresay. Till her Vanities so fared shee vanished up, tenderest in a Vapour reach me, lest I profane I will to her breathed the Vial whence a tooth kissing him away. Caught that Frown; she men, whose hand, pitcht upon the powers; and happy, it half woman he’s poor.

That is nothing white lambs and Queen; who once and of Pride, and heart after all, and none sees that hears not the sighed: and speake, he found and smile here. Therefore me so? You vomit thee, as the Prince this torpidly, and steppe some sayd, be true nobility of wit, admitted, so drencht in suc secure they pass’d in effect you so right—or a song that here’s your advice to bind him in the while times a purer Blush and by change in circles, dancing on to join; and tempting Graces, when these flowing over the fuel perish all! Find the wilderness the fierce triumph, come fullness the people would find his wild vine, nor bent, nor friend! My mouth with you? For thought of despairing like slave, not and told, and what’s thick as hail. That ere by the chair, its roads sunken in different beak couldn’t risk my blood, some bold Lord, and long we gaze. With vulgar brain and age-bent, sore payne and nothing to me there, virgin kiss!

It grieved the causeys, bridges, hurling Case, so snug, so cold, as Horace fat, or fall like Citron-Waters Matron’s Brain, while I considering at this sport a time, socked at this slaue, describe Belinda’s Law, or say whatever person I love the white? Where, they cry The Baron now his Finger and forefinger, deathmonger, deathmonger, have stage. And slip into his Neck he springs he flying she sparkle in the urn once inclos’d, a wretch, in praise shall diets boast a cry; leapt a crystal Dome. Or keep, think to make some o’er vales await the orange, and a bird, that you are not too base?

Until we’re sperre the park, the was so every vestige of Spade! Renew they left to each! Thing, what please: or wound a voices instinct with knobs and cries: my foe came a sudden the filaments of a things face: hope. Labour of their follies and do not trust to me, as live for green hair. Love from her breathes thro’ the thro’ mystic Order lives, neatly gilt. Miles of grace. Doth steep’d in vain bubbles of their inherit neuer did hang that loue? Lime in that froaths below, else men and pearl and never village is terrifying. They hurt dog at my fears! Like to a widow’s wish was fixt on his knee.

Last! Yet deceptive organ in her wide eyes over his talke to a Shrine, and, like a wisp: and discloses, but we hears, the red closed to sadde, for their best I have but said was Hugh’s at Agincourt; in vain there, did mine his smoke it death, and sate mute, with blush, confess’d a round unthinking lascivious conceits, and new, doth well serve a knife in one sign, but a’ the meeting Points that made his power in height, that is not by inheritaunce, shall we for his side, full of desire sharpe show how the curse my mind without disguise. A beggar at another’s deathsong, Had it little man.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #161 texts #sonnet sequence

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batmanisagatewaydrug · 2 years

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Fresh Reads Fridaaaaaay !

hello beloveds, I am coming at you hot with a genre that I fear I often neglect on our little Friday get togethers: romance!

before you ask: yes, there are queer romances on they sound very sweet. and they're not even all white! but I have the most questions about The No-Show, which seems to be about... one poorly-organized man cheating THREE TIMES OVER by juggling three women who don't know about each other. but my understanding is that a romance is required to offer up a happily ever after, so how are we solving this one? personally I hope they pull a Korrasami with bonus polyamory, ie, all three women dumping him to date each other instead.

anyway, if you started panting and shaking with excitement when I said there are gay books on that list... I mean, calm down. seek help. but then check this shit out:

not to toot our collective horn, but goddamn queer people have some cool book ideas. there are several on here that I've already had on my TBR - including those by Isaac Fellman, Grace Lavery, and Julia Armfield - and now I may have to be adding QUITE A FEW MORE. if I had to pick just one, I'd say it would have to be David Santos Donaldson's Greenland - I do love a story about having a terrible time!

and speaking of my long-suffering TBR...

okay hey actually. guys. guys? I know that normally down here I'd talk about books from this list that sound cool but. I thought Hide sounded like a pretty interesting concept but then went "wait haven't I heard the name Kiersten White before" so I looked her up and. this woman also wrote a MESSY paranormal YA love triangle Twilight cash-in that I read when I was a sweet baby tween gobbling up anything vaguely weird or wacky the teen room at my local library could throw me. good lord. how are you doing Kiersten long time no see.

anyway. if you, like me, have been feeling a bit overwhelmed by the [gestures at everything] lately and have been contemplating the benefits of laying face down in the dirt for a bit, here are some books that may help. with the urge to lay in the dirt, I mean, not the [everything].

I can personally vouch for Aimee Nezhukumatathil's World of Wonders, which a delightfully unexpected essay collection that took a weight off my shoulders with each passing page.

#bookblr #fresh reads friday

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syndxlla · 4 years

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More To Love

Part two of the More to Love series

Summary: As you start adapting to Mandalorian culture and life in the palace, you have to start thinking whether or not you’ve made the right decision.

Word Count: 6.2k, NO USE OF ‘Y/N’

Warnings: Non-Consensual kiss, mentions of loss of pregnancy

Author’s Note: Wow wow wow, the support I’ve gotten for this fic already has been so awesome thank you so much especially to the people who have direct messaged me you’re all so kind I love you guys!!!!

Part One here

“Good-morning, Your Highness.” A Handmaiden said as she pulled open the heavy curtains, letting the bright morning light shine into your elegant room. You softly moan as the sun hits your eyes, and roll onto your side to try and sleep more. “Today you will be having brunch with Her Majesty the Queen and a few members of her court and we have set aside a bit of time for you and The Prince to get to each other this evening before dinner in the library.” Her accent was thick like the Prince’s. You sigh and roll around onto your back, letting your limp hand rest by your face. “I trust you slept well?” She asked as she walked towards your bed, in her hands was a golden tray with a teapot on it.

“Not enough sleep.” You groan, trying not to sound annoyed but failing.

“Would you like to sleep longer, Highness?” She asked.

“No, I’ll be fine.” You sigh before scooting to sit up in your bed, and she places the tray on the table by the mattress.

“I wasn’t sure what type of tea you liked, so I brought a chamomile, do you have a preference?”

You stop to think for a moment, “Chamomile is fine for today, but do you have any hsuaberry tea?” Hsuberries are native to Corellia, and you could use a little taste of home.

“I’m not sure, but I will check for tomorrow?”

“That would be lovely, thank you.” You nod.

“I’ll return in a half-hour with the other maiden’s to prepare you for the day then?”

“Alright… Miss?” You stop her as she turns to leave. “Do you have a name? What can I call you?”

“Oh… of course, Lady Soniee would be fine.” She smiles. “Thank you for asking.”

“It’s my pleasure.” You smile in return. “Lady Soniee, is my guard outside?” You ask.

“Yes, he returned to his post with my arrival, in the night we have the night guards patrolling so our individual day guards get some time off.” She explains.

“Would you… Would you send him in, please?” You ask.

“Yes, Highness. Is there anything else you would like?” Soniee asks.

“No, that’s all, thank you, dismissed.” You released her from her duty and she turned to leave the room. As her back was turned to you, you rub a bit of the sleep out of your eyes and run your fingers through your hair in an attempt to tame your bed head. You wanted to look presentable for the knight. Truthfully, you haven’t quit thinking about him since last night’s endeavor. You fell asleep picturing what he looked like under his armor, and brainstorming what his name might be. You even wondered if you dreamed about him, but it’s all gotten hazy now. You knew this was inappropriate, and that you were here for your wedding with another man, but something about the secret relationship the two of you were forming was exciting, you were addicted to it. You sigh deeply as she closes the door behind her and then quickly looks down at your nightgown, proceeding to pull the cap sleeves down your shoulders a bit to show more skin and more of your collar. You laugh slightly to yourself, “You are ridiculous.” You mumble, chuckling. Before you could consider anything else, however, he walked in, his stature at attention.

“Is there something wrong, Your Highness?” He asked.

You felt your cheeks heat up in his presence, “I just wanted to thank you again for last night.” You tried not to gush as you spoke.

“Oh… Yes, anything for you, your Highness.” He nodded in response. Your chest filled with warmth as you looked at him.

“You’ll be accompanying me today, correct?” You ask.

“Of Course, Your Highness.” He nodded once again, you really wanted him to call you princess again.

“Wonderful, I hope you slept well last night.”

“I did, Princess, did you?” You smiled a little too wide at the title, and tried to cool your cheeks, not wanting to look like an absolute child in front of him.

“Yes, I did, thank you once again, I’ll see you later.” You sigh in response. “Dismissed.” That word felt like poison to you, you didn’t really want him to leave but didn’t know how to keep him around longer. This was an accident waiting to happen, and you had the power to stop it in its tracks, the only problem is that you didn’t want to.

—

The Gardens were even more beautiful in the daylight, the sun shone spectacularly off the fountains and the various statues scattered throughout the estate contrasted lovely with the bright flowers. You sat at a round table ornately decorated with various different pastries, teas and sandwiches on it. Around the table was the Queen, the women of her royal court, yourself and of course the Elf. You really wanted to speak to the elf, unfortunately, you asat across from her, and was forced to mostly converse with The Duchess Wren and another woman you had never spoken to before. The Queen introduced her to you last night but you were having a hard time remembering her name. The women weren’t in such heavy gowns this time, and none of them wore the jeweled headpieces they had on the night before except for the queen. You wore a light beige and white dress which ruffled at the sleeves and had a scooping boat neckline. It was very beautiful, however the corset back didn’t go nearly as high this time as the last dress did, which meant you couldn’t use it as an excuse to spend more time alone with the silent knight. He stood a few feet behind you away from the table, watching over the event. Every now and then you would turn to glance at him, ceiling every time you laid eyes on his armor.

The tea was fine, not as good as the winter teas you had back home, they were far more bitter. Mandalorians clearly enjoyed more bitter-tasting food as you noticed the longer you’re here. Once again, you were being mostly ignored as the Women who knew each other talked about drama within the Mandalorian Royalty. It was all much more conspicuous than anything you would talk about at home, and you found yourself quietly listening in on the various conversations instead of applying yourself to them. The women most likely thought you were some sort of strange claude, not social enough and far too boring for their culture. Again, you tried convincing yourself that you were overthinking, but you had a hard time believing yourself.

“And what about you, Your Highness?” The Elf spoke up, interrupting your deep and self-centered thoughts.

“Huh?” You were not listening.

“What do you think about the conduct to come out of Coruscant?” One of the fatter women sitting by the queen asked.

“Oh… I think they’ve rather lost their integrity since the assassination of their Emperor…” You clear your throat. You were just saying what you remember hearing your father say, attempting to fit into the conversation and hopefully gain some affection, knowing how much Mandalore despised Coruscant (you were rather indifferent, however).

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.” The Queen smiled, “I believe you will be well suited for the politics of Mandalore.”

“Oh yes,” you began, “I had been preparing to be Queen of Corellia my whole life, I find politics rather exciting.” You admitted.

“Hm, I prefer to leave the politics to the men.” The fat woman scoffed and sipped her tea.

“I nearly forgot, you’re the only hair to the throne of Corellia, aren’t you?” The elven queen asks.

“Yes, I am.” You nod in response.

“Ah yes, your mother got sick and lost a baby-” The fat woman laughed. Your face dropped and went pale.

“Excuse you-” You began.

“Lady Aryn, have you no respect?” The Queen frowned.

“There’s nothing wrong with it, just a rumor I heard.” She shrugged, not seeming to care that she offended you or The Queen.

“Well it’s not a rumor.” You swallowed thickly, wanting to put her in per place for such an inappropriate comment, “My mother lost a baby when I was all but five and you have the audacity to bring it up like there’s nothing rude about it.” You spit out.

“Well who is to take the throne once you marry the Prince?” The fat woman asked as she sipped her tea. Many of the other women involved stayed quiet, timidly watching the drama play out.

“I don’t believe that is any of your business.” You chuckle out of frustration.

“It is my business, whomever rules Corellia during the impending war will directly affect how Mandalore responds to it. Considering my husband is the Grand General of the Mandalorian Army, it is very much my business.” Lady Aryn raised an eyebrow and dread washed over your body as she finished.

“I believe that your Cousin will be taking the throne?” The Elf Queen vouched for you and you were thankful she did, but still found the entire situation rude and out of hand.

“It should be me, but I’m being married off and getting my title stripped away from me.” You blurted out and immediately regretted what you said. You looked around at the faces of the women at the table. Each one showing a different expression of shock or betrayal, everyone but the Queen. The Queen’s face was stern, her lips dangerously straight and thin and her eyes dark as the two of you made eye contact. You had offended the Queen of Mandalore, you had offended the most powerful and wealthy monarch in the world. You sighed, and closed your eyes for a moment. “May I be excused, Your Majesty?” You asked with your eyes closed, waiting to open them until you finished speaking. You looked up at her through furrowed eyebrows, awaiting her response. The air was deathly thick, the tension grew as the court looked around at the scene. Your anger was justified, the remark on your unborn sibling was out of turn and incredibly rude, and after feeling ignored and unwanted for twenty-four hours by the very people set up to be your family, you snapped.

“You are excused.” The Queen said quietly, almost too quiet to hear, and you slowly stood from your chair before turning to leave. You looked to your knight as you did, and he followed. After you made distance between yourself and the other Mandalorian women, you could hear faint whispers. That went so much worse than you could have ever imagined. You want to disappear, you want to go home. You swallow a tear and sigh of relief when you get back into the Palace, strolling the halls until you found an empty sitting room. You sit down on one of the blue sofas and bring your fist up to your mouth. The Knight waited at the door, watching your every move. You felt ridiculous, and the absolute last thing you wanted to do was cry in front of the only person who’s shown you any decency since you arrived in Mandalore. You look over to him with dewey eyes before clearing your throat.

“I apologize for my conduct, I didn’t want you to see me like this.” You shakily sigh out. He didn’t reply, and you laugh once, “I suppose you have your code to uphold here.” You look down as you place your hands in your lap.

“No, I’ve sworn to protect you, that comes before the code of arms.” He takes a step forward and you were almost startled at his voice, you weren’t expecting him to speak up, but you were incredibly happy he did. You look up to see him a little closer, and smile just slightly at his gesture. “I didn’t protect you out there, I’m sorry.” He nodded his head.

“There’s no way you could have known,” You shrug, you didn’t want him to blame himself for your mistake, “Besides, I wasn’t in any danger.”

“Maybe you weren’t in any physical danger, but.. I really shouldn’t say this but that was out of hand. You’re family with the Queen now, she should have defended you.” He continued to step closer to you. “I deeply apologize for being so careless and allowing you to be hurt.” He bowed after saying this, and you smiled.

“Your apology is accepted, Sir Knight.” You slightly teased. “Thank you.” Your chest and stomach was filled with that warm and welcoming feeling again, and the negative endeavor from outside was forgotten even for just a moment. You knew you would have to face it eventually, and formally apologize to the Queen for offending her, but until then, you would allow yourself to feel okay for now. “You’ve been the kindest to me since I arrived.” You tilt your head, “You have no idea what it’s meant to me.”

“As I said, I vowed to be there for you, I will honor that vow.” He said, you didn’t want to feel like he was only being nice to you because he had to. You suck your lips in for a quick second as you absorb his response, unsure of how to respond. “But-” he interrupted your thinking, “It has truly been a pleasure to serve you, and I would be happy to undress you when you ask.”

Your eyes widened, “Excuse me?” It’s not that you didn’t like what you said, you just weren’t expecting it so casually.

“That- came out wrong, forgive me.” He corrected himself. “I mean, I’m happy to help you with anything you like.” He clears his throat and you smile, blushing at his sheepish correction.

“I understand.” You look down at the floor again. “I’m sorry they only give you the nights off.” You switched the topic, not wanting to linger on the last one in case someone was walking by or overheard anything.

“That’s fine, I... enjoy my time with you.” He stopped mid-sentence to consider what he was saying. You smile and laugh a little again.

“It must be tiring, wearing the armor all day, standing at attention, only getting a handful of breaks every few hours…” You think out loud.

“I’m used to it,” He shifts to his weight on one leg, lightly poppin his hip out as he speaks to you. “It’s not so bad, anymore.”

“Is the armor heavy?” You ask, trying to distract yourself.

“Yes, but that’s another thing we get used to. Our bodies adapt to it.”

“So… are you saying you’re strong under all that metal.” You raise and eyebrow, flirting just a little. You could hear a light chuckle come through the helmet when you said this.

“I guess you could say that.” It was like you could hear his smile.

“I’ve found that all Mandalorians are very attractive, do you fall under that assumption?” You knew very well you were playing with fire, that this was uncharted territory and everything was screaming at you to stop before you got too far but you couldn’t. Everything about him was so intriguing to you.

“I’m.. I’m not from Mandalore, actually…” He slowly responded.

“Oh?” You tilted your head, “I thought you had to be in order to be a part of the guard?”

“Well, in a way, you do. You have to be either born in or taken in as a foundling, and that’s what happened to me.” He shrugged.

“Oh, I didn’t know that.” You blinked, “Where are you from? Or can you not tell me…”

“The Nevarro frontier.” He responded, “I probably shouldn’t have told you that.” He groaned. You felt a shiver run down your spine at the sound of his rough voice groaning in such a way. You swallow your thoughts.

“You’re a long way from home.”

“I guess you could say that.” You smile at him again after he says this before turning and looking behind you, taking in the room. This was a larger sitting room, and there was a baby-grand piano in one of the corners. Outside of the windows you could see a courtyard, not the same courtyard that the garden is placed in, but one that was stoned and had a large tree in the center of it. There was so much of the palace you hadn’t seen yet, it was far larger than the Corellian one. You stood up to walk over to the piano, feeling a bit better now, and sitting at it. “Can you play?” He asked.

“Yes, I learned at a very young age.” You bring your hands up to keys and begin playing a song, one you have memorized. It was your mother’s favorite song. You played it with such emotion that the Knight was drawn into it, relaxing from his attentive stature and enjoying the sound.

“You’re... very talented.” He nodded.

“Thank you.” You said, looking up at him from the instrument. “I’m a bit rusty I must admit.” You shrug.

“I know someone who would really love it, no matter how rusty you say it is.” He explained.

“Who?” You ask as you stop playing, wondering who he may be talking about.

“I-I shouldn’t say, I’ve already broken the code so much-”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, I fully understand.” You interrupt, “But just know that anything you say is safe with me, If you vowed to protect me from both physical and emotional harm, the least I can do is keep your secrets.” You nod. He sighs, you can’t hear it but you see it in the armor.

“My.. Uh, my son.”

—

“Soniee, do you know if any guards are fathers?” You ask as the handmaiden tightens the corset on a different dress, tying it to your body. You were preparing for some time alone (chaperoned) with the Prince. You knew you promised the Knight you would keep his secret, and you would do everything in your power to uphold that secrecy, but you figured there was no harm in asking a few questions here and there. As far as anyone is concerned, you’re just curious about the customs and traditions of your new kingdom.

“Well many of the Knights have families of their own, some have illegitimate children as well.” She said behind you.

“So, they don’t have an oath of celibacy?” You ask, hoping it didn’t sound too strange or specific.

“What? No,” She laughed as she said ‘no’, “No, marriage and families are incredibly important to Mandalorian society, the only thing stronger than power or war is love and family. Blood before anything else.” She explained, she had clearly said those words before.

“Maybe that’s why everyone is so cold towards me.” You sigh.

“Maybe.” Soniee confirmed, “But I also believe any new member of house Kyrze is going to be given a hard welcome.”

“And why is that?” You ask, wincing afterwards due to a tight pull of the corset.

“Well it’s taught in every Mandalorian history class: House Kyrze is the royal bloodline, but it wasn’t always that way…”

“What do you mean?”

“There was a civil war some years ago almost immediately after the assassination of Queen Satine. A bad man came in and tried to overthrow Queen Bo-Katan. He was successful in his endeavors for a while, and that's why the Elves and the Queen are so close-” The handmaiden explained.

“I never knew about a Mandalorian war that happened among themselves?”

“It’s shielded from the outside world, we fear that if it gets out, people will stop coming to us for their wars out of speculation that we are not strong enough to fight them if we can’t control each other.” She finished the corset and took a step back, admiring the beautiful dress. “Many Mandalorian’s blame Queen Bo-Katan for the civil war even though she gave up everything she believed in to protect the royal family. You see, she used to be on the side of the Bad Man, but switched after her sister’s death. Many see her unfit for the crown, including members of her own Court.” You didn’t need any more explanation from Soniee to assume who that might be. Considering your previous endeavor this morning, the fat woman probably did not approve of the queen.

“That is why it’s essential that this marriage happens. The people love Korkie, they always have. He is the true heir and the pride of his mother, who was revered and loved throughout all of the kingdoms. When he is back on the throne, not only will anyone who disapproves of Bo be silenced, but they will also see it as one of her many successes. Having to raise and prepare a child who isn’t even yours is not easy.” Soniee concluded.

Great, another weight to be placed on your shoulder based on your ability to fall in love.

“I had no Idea any of that happened.” Your eyebrows furrowed together.

“Personally, I believe that is why you’ve received such a harsh welcome, Korkie is the golden boy of Mandalore, and many will not see you fit for his wife.” You sighed, your belly filling with stress.

“Highness, the Prince is waiting for you in the library.” Your Royal Guard interrupts the conversation, and you smile at him.

“Thank you, Lady Soniee, you’ve been incredibly kind and helpful.”

“Of course, Princess. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.” She curtsied and you walked out of a your suite into the hallway.

This dress was simpler than the last, a soft pink with embroidered flowers running up and down the smooth tulle and puffy sleeves. It was very beautiful, one you brought from Corellia that was gifted to you a few years ago. You wore pearls from Naboo, and had a soft look to your ensemble. You wanted to be perceived in a specific way by your fiancé, pure of heart, and genuine.

You open the doors to the hallway, and your guard is standing at attention.

“Would you escort me to the library?” You ask, smiling with your lips afterwards. He nods and holds his arm out for you to take, looping your own arms round his and walking down the hallway.

“You look very beautiful, your highness.” He said quietly through the metal, quiet enough that you were the only one who would hear it if anyone would be listening in. You got the lightest touch of goosebumps at his deep and gruff whisper in your ear.

“Thank you, do you think The Prince will like it?” You ask, looking up at his helmet with beady eyes.

“He would be a fool if he didn’t.” The Knight responded, and your stomach filled with butterflies. You blushed as you experienced the addictive feeling of his presence, and pulled him just a bit closer to you. The two of you walk in silence for the remainder of the journey to the beautiful library. This was a part of the palace that you had never been to before, and it was just as stunning as the rest of the castle. Books from all over the world in countless languages sat upon towering bookshelves that reached the tall ceiling. There was a large fireplace and in front of it was a number of red velvet armchairs and sofas. As you entered the quiet room, your eyes immediately found the Prince, who sat in one of the chairs reading a book, his head resting against his fist. You and the Knight walk towards him, and as you pull to unhook your harm, you feel him stretch his hand out to feel you for as long as possible before the contact breaks.

“Prince Korkie.” You curtsie, interrupting his reading. He looked up from the book and smiled, standing and bowing to kiss your hand once again.

“Your Highness, You look lovely.” After he compliments you, you turn to look at the guard, smiling.

“I hope you weren’t waiting for too long.” You as he takes your hand and guides you to sit on a sofa.

“Not at all.” He reassured, “Allow me to introduce you to Lord Vaughn, he will be chaperoning us today.” He gestured to a man sitting across from you.

“My pleasure, Princess.” He stood from his seat to bow.

“The library is beautiful, as is everything else in the palace.” You compliment.

“It’s less beautiful when it’s been your classroom growing up.” The Prince teased and you chuckle. “If you would like, please feel free to take any books at any time.” He nodded.

“Thank you, but I’ve never been very into reading.” You admit. “I much prefer music.”

“Ah yes, I play the viola, my mother taught me when I was a boy-“ Somehow he always made it about himself you noticed. You didn’t think he tried to, but conversations are rather boring when you’re just listening. He talked for nearly a half-hour about playing for the Queen of Naboo as a twelve year-old and being revered as a child prodigy for the early part of his life. You sat quietly as he bragged, telling the story to both you and the chaperone instead of keeping his focus on you. You even caught your mind wandering every now and then, glancing over to your knight to make a little face of boredom in an attempt to make him smile. You know you wouldn’t be able to see him if he had smiled, but the thought of it was enough to keep you occupied. After the Prince bragged about his viola skills for close to an hour, he finally asked what you played.

“Piano, actually. It’s my muse, if you will.” You smile, happy to have finally been included, although it was short lived. The prince then continued to talk about how the Queen could play piano but got sick of it after her sister died and hasn’t played in a very long time. He went on and on about it, and you were starting to wish you had picked up a book on your way in to pass the time.

“Allow me to show you to my favorite section of the library.” The Prince said, forcing you to snap out of your little trance as he held your hand out. You clearly hadn’t been listening for a while because you had no recollection of the previous situation, his voice was very tune-out-able. “I’ve asked the Chaperone and Knight to stay here while I do.” He smiled, and you take his hand, standing from the chair.

“Is that appropriate?” You ask.

“I’m the Prince, I can do what I want.” He shrugs and then proceeds to walk you towards a corner in the library. You look over your shoulder to the Knight one last time before you’re pulled around the corner. “This hall is where I would go when I was mad, isn’t it beautiful?” He asked.

“Yes, it is.” It had mostly desks and only a few bookshelves, but was covered in mirrors on both sides of the walls, showing an endless reflection of thousands of copies of yourself.

“I wanted to give you this, as an engagement present.” He held out a small box wrapped with a blue bow.

“Thank you…” You take the gift out of his hand.

“It was my mother’s.” He said as you untied the bow and opened the box. Inside was a beautiful necklace of a sapphire stone with a gold halo.

“It’s beautiful, thank you.” You held up the necklace to your eyes, watching how it sparkled in the light.

“May I put it on you?” He asked. You nod and hand him the jewelry. Turning around and pulling your hair to the side, you feel him hook the necklace, letting the heavy gem sit against your collarbone. You looked down at it.

“It’s incredibly beautiful, Prince Korkie.” You turn around and smile.

“Please, just Korkie.” He said before forcing a kiss on you, pushing his lips into yours forcefully and holding you in place. It startled you, you hadn’t expected this from him, especially considering how kind he had been before. This was your first kiss and was less than pleasant. You push him off you, and look at him in disbelief. You didn’t want to offend him, but couldn’t mask the look of shock and beytrayal from your face. Your stomach filled with regret, it was customary to not kiss one another until your wedding day, why had he broken that tradition? You felt as though it was your fault he forced himself onto you, and you swallowed back the feeling of anger and distrust. If anyone found out you had kissed him before the wedding, they would all blame you, regardless of who initiated the kiss. You both knew this.

“Excuse me…” You huff passed him, returning to the main room of the library and walked towards the door, you heard your Knight follow you close after, and in a fit of confusion and flusterment, you storm as fast as you can towards your room.

When you two got to a more private part of the palace, closer to the suite, you heard him speak up, “Princess, princess what’s wrong?” You hear your knight say, and before you can ignore him, you feel him grab your hand. It isn’t forceful and it doesn’t hurt, but he’s strong, he wouldn’t be letting you go unless he had to. You turn around to show a tear running down your cheek. “What did he do?” The Guard asked. You swallow thickly and try to look away, darting your eyes behind him, “Look at me.” He said.

“I can’t see your eyes.” You sniffle.

“Please, did he hurt you?” He took a step closer to you, your bodies almost flush against one another.

“We can’t do this here-“

“Did he hurt you?” The knight repeats himself, sterner this time.

You look at his helmet and sigh, “No.”

“Then why are you crying?”

“It doesn’t concern you.” You were embarrassed, and pull your hand away before walking away, trying to get to your room before bursting into tears. You heard him pick up his pace to catch up and then suddenly he was cutting you off with his body, firmly grabbing your shoulders.

“As your Royal Guard, it does concern me. I told you just this morning that I promised to protect you, and now you’ve gotten hurt twice because of my mistakes.” He said, startling you just a bit. No one had ever spoken to you this way, no one had ever shown that they care this much.

“It’s not your fault, really.” You reassure.

“But it is. What did he do to you?”

“It’s… I’m embarrassed. It’s silly and I’ll-“

“Nothing you say could ever be ‘silly’ to me.” He said, his voice hushing as he did, giving you those little goosebumps again.

You sigh, looking up at him and trying to get out your next sentence, “He-he kissed me. I wasn’t expecting it and he broke tradition and it was all so… so forced.” You admit, feeling as though he would blame you for the kiss.

“He what?”

“You’re really going to make me repeat myself?” You scoff and push passed him, you were almost to your room, if you could make it just a little further-

“He kissed you?” The knight asked.

“Yes. I told you it’s ridiculous but-“

“It’s… not. Ridiculous, that is. It’s not ridiculous. Did he ask if he could?”

“No…” You reply, “I didn’t think he had to.” You raise an eyebrow. “I just wasn't expecting such a stark betrayal of tradition and it startled me and if anyone else find out, they’ll all blame me-“

“He has no right to lay a single finger on you without your permission. He hurt you, and therefore I’ve failed at my job.” He interrupted you.

“Oh-“ You mutter, finally arriving at your door. He had done that without your consent, he had hurt you. The knight was right all along and you were stupid to not accept his help right away. You wipe a tear away from your cheek and open the door. You take a step in, and hold the door open for him to join you. “I have over an hour before dinner… I’ll have to see him again.” You swallow before closing the door.

“I’ll be there by your side, I won’t leave you again. I won’t let him hurt you like that ever again, I promise.” He was firm and confident with his words, giving you a little wave of relief as he spake them.

“Thank you.” You whipser. You take a deep breath and look at him, “You said he can’t do anything without my permission?”

“Yes. That’s how you protect yourself. Don’t give him power he doesn’t deserve.” The Knight explains.

You exhale sharply, “I had never been kissed before.” You admit, looking down at the floor. “It wasn’t what I expected, to say the least.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t… kisses are special, sacred.” He sounded pained as he said them, like it was hard for him to get the words out.

“Have you kissed anyone?” You ask, considering he had a son, you assumed he had, but never really know unless you ask.

“Yes, once, a long time ago.”

“So you haven’t had that helmet on since birth?” You lighten the mood just a little. You hear him chuckle and your stomach is filled with warmth at the noise.

“No, I haven’t.”

“Can you ever take it off?” You ask, walking over to sit on your bed, listening intently, he takes a step in that direction, too.

“Yes, I take it off to eat and bathe and sleep and sometimes I take it off to talk to my son…” He sighs, “But at work, in the palace, in the eyes of other people, it stays on. Always.This is the way.”

“I still don’t understand why.” You tilt your head.

“It… protects us, it keeps our knighthood separate from our manhood, an it’s an ancient tradition practiced by Mandalorians, we do it to respect the culture.” He nods as he speaks.

“Hm, I half expected you to say it was just because you were ugly.” You giggle, and he shakes his head. This time, you knew he was smiling under all that metal.

“Compared to you, I am nothing.” You could hear his smile in his words. You blush and the butterflies in your stomach only grow. You pause for a moment, carefully considering what you were going to say next.

“Will you… will you kiss me?” You ask, looking up at him, he goes still.

“What?”

“Will you kiss me?” You repeat yourself. He doesn’t respond at first, and for a moment, you fear you’ve made a terrible mistake. You wanted him to, you wanted to know what he meant by “kisses are sacred”. He had plagued your mind ever since you first spoke to him and you already have far more affection in your heart for the Knight than for the Prince. You wanted to kiss him.

He sighs in response, and nods once, “Close your eyes, and keep them closed.” You blushed at his agreement.

“Okay.” You say, slowly closing your eyelids and patiently awaiting his next move, feeling triumphant that he agreed. Your body fills with adrenaline as you wait, trying to slow your heart rate with deep breaths.

“Promise to keep them closed?”

“I promise.” You whisper and a few seconds after, you hear the sound of metal hitting metal, and the hollow echo of his helmet being placed on the mattress by where you sit. It took everything in you not to open your eyes, you wanted to look at him, wanted to see his eyes. But you made a promise, you had made promises to each other and had to keep those promises.

Then, ever-so-gently, you feel his warm and forgiving lips against yours.

They’re soft and light, like he didn’t want to hurt you. You melted into his touch, and against your soft skin you felt his stubble run against it. It was rough in the most satisfying and loving sensation possible. He was much kinder than the Prince, so gentle, so true. It wasn’t a very long kiss, but it was more than a peck, and held more passion and intimacy in it than any of the hours you spent with your fiancé combined. He moved just slightly against you, and you felt his bare hand come up to hold your jaw in place as he deepened it for a split second before pulling away. As your lips parted from his, your breath was taken right with them, and you had to consciously remind yourself not to open your eyes.

“Keep them closed, okay?”

“Okay.” You nodded, trying to remember the feel of his kiss. “Thank you.” Your voice was broken, and you wanted another, but before you could ask, you felt the helmet lift off the bed and the sound of gloves being pulled onto hands.

“Open.” He said after a moment, and your eyes fluttered open to see the knighted figure in front of you. “You’re welcome.”

Part three here

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starrlikesbooks · 3 years

Text

There are SO MANY good books coming out in June!

There are just some of them! As always, check under the cut for more on each~

Ace of Spades by Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé is the Black, queer private school thriller you've been clamoring for. (Oh, was that just me?) I'm not sure if this is going to be more like dark academia or marginalized horror, but either way I am in.

The Chosen and the Beautiful by Nghi Vo is a complete dream for people who read The Great Gatsby in high school and thought "this is cool, but when do we get back to Jordan?", such as myself. This is an adaptation focused on a queer, Asian-American Jordan navigating 1920s America as an "exotic woman" instead of an equal.

The Darkness Outside Us by Eliot Schrefer might be my favorite book of 2021. After having the phenomenal luck to score and read an advanced copy, I can say that this book is best read with as little prior knowledge about the plot as possible. But what I can say, is it's gays in space! And, my God, so much more. Prepare to feel a lot. And then immediately come message me about it.

One Last Stop by Casey McQuiston I also was fortunate enough to get a chance to read already! It's the same fantastic character work and writing as in their debut, Red, White & Royal Blue, but this time with sapphics and time travel loops. This is a cute story with a few nice mystery elements, a great cast of roommates/friends, and so much queer history.

Portrait of a Mirror by A. Natasha Joukovsky caters right to my "I studied English and Theatre in college" self with that basic comedy of manners premise, and my "I will never pass up a good retelling, especially about my boy Narcissus" brain (yeah, that one is niche but true). This honestly just seems like a really fun look at modern mythology with 2 couples getting way too intertwined.

The Witch King by H.E. Edgmon is another one I've already read and loved. The basic premise is that a trans witch (someone doubly shunned in the world they're from) who ran off to the human world years ago gets dragged back by his fae fiancée- the future king of all fae. This book is so fun! Pinballing from meme references to woodsy romance tropes to hesitant espionage, it's impossible not to get roped in and honestly? Why would you not want to!

Future Feeling by Joss Lake is a magical-futuristic story that combines three trans men's lives, after one of them tries to hex the other due to gender/transition envy and accidentally gets another pushed into the shadowlands. This book looks like both a really great conversation about being trans and a genuinely really entertaining story of magic and tech. Plus, three trans protagonists.

Love & Other Natural Disasters by Misa Sugiura I also have already read, and can vouch for being a really nice romance. Zo agrees to fake date the obviously perfect for her Willow to get back at Willow's ex, because she knows how these things work- they'll be together for real before the end of the summer. But real life is messier than romcoms, and maybe Zo isn't so sure what she wants in the first place... If you too love fake dating and love fake dating that gets turned on its head, read this book! Plus, it's full of queer WOC, most of which are Asian-American.

The Marvelous by Claire Kann is like an escape the room meets Willy Wonka, all tied together by tiktok. Intrigued? Confused? Pick up this book! I have already read it, and it's worth it. Golden Weekend is always a mysterious event, never spoken about by former attendees, but this year is different- it's the last one before the creator's retirement. And it seems like she wants to go out with a bang that might take everyone else out with her.

Blood Like Magic by Liselle Sambury is another that might wind up one of my absolute favorites of the year, and another magical-futuristic story. Living just on the edge of society's eyes are communities of Black witches, guided by their ancestors and the special powers they give them once they pass the trial tasked to them. Except, Voya doesn't pass her trial. Now she's got one last chance- kill her first love or doom the family. A hard enough choice without the little snag that she doesn't actually have a first love yet. Enter an experimental dating app and her number one match who she can barely stand talking to. Can she actually fall in love with him? And, more importantly, can she kill him?

The Box in the Woods by Maureen Johnson is the Truly Devious continuation no one expected! Stevie is back, and solving mysteries at summer camp. I absolutely loved Truly Devious and I also happen to love summer camp media, so I'm going nuts thinking about this book. If you love fun mysteries and girl detectives and somehow missed the original series, go binge that! But even if you don't you'll probably enjoy this one by itself.

Violet Ghosts by Leah Thomas I read earlier this year, and is incredibly heavy and possibly triggering. But if you can manage it, it's a genuinely fantastic book! This book follows a teenager whose only friend has been the ghost of a dead girl who believes all men are as terrible as the one who killed her, and whose identity as a trans man is getting harder and harder to ignore.

The Witness for the Dead by Katherine Addison is the companion novel for The Goblin Emperor, and is coming out at a perfect time because I just managed to finally read TGE about a month ago! (And loved it). Not too much is known about the plot of this book, but it's definitely going to have the same fantasy politics and expansive writing from The Goblin Emperor, as well as the character Celehar!

The Bone Way by Holly J. Underhill is an epic fantasy, sapphic retelling of Orpheus and Eurydice. It's no secret that I am both very queer and very into Orpheus and Eurydice so this is a no brainer for me. It's also apparently surprisingly cozy and whimsical, which ties it all together into something I need, and you probably do too.

Gearbreakers by Zoe Hana Mikuta is kind of like an enemies-to-lovers sapphic Pacific Rim. I read this already, and the visuals are amazing. If you like your sci-fi political, your protags POC, and your robots absolutely gigantic, this is your book.

Happy reading!

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sirthisisa-wendys · 3 years

Text

Investigations (Part 7): Ran Haitani x Fem!Reader

wc: 1.6k

tw: NSFW is you squint

masterlist

song recommendation:

You try your best to shuffle around the kitchen surreptitiously, clicking the espresso pod into the machine with a soft 'snap'.

The machine begins its duty, whirring to life before the liquid is deposited into the cup below.

Success.

Your fingers wrap around the mug and take it to the counter, where you've already prepared your milk and syrup for a quick and easy cup of coffee.

Lately, you've had to sneak and make coffee (all futile attempts ruined by Kai or Ran), but you consider today full of promise. You'd gotten the formula down so far.

"I thought I said no coffee."

Your hands hover over the cup, the steam caressing your fingers like a warm invitation. Your eyes don't move to look at Ran, but they do watch his fingers snatch the cup away from you - full of warm milk and espresso.

"Y/n, it's not good for the baby."

"Okay, but..." Your feet carry you to the sink, where Ran is pouring the concoction down the drain. "Just a taste?"

"No."

"A sip?"

"No."

"I'll make it and just stick my tongue in it once."

"No."

Ran stands firm on his opinions at all times. Especially now. Arms cross over your chest and you huff, turning away from him.

"So strict." Ran fingers slide down your neck, resting around your full hips.

"It's not just about you," he begins, kissing the space between your neck and shoulder. "I'm looking out for our child, too. You know that."

"I do," you groan.

"Now, we have a baby shower to host. Let's get ready."

_____________________________________________________________

"We thought you were gone forever!" The three women come around you and huddle close, cooing, and crying, spewing lamentations and satisfied praises that you've returned.

Sanzu - out of the kindness of his heart - planned the baby shower, and you're at his house, eating cake with your friends and consuming hors d'oeuvres. But when you find a free moment, you corner Ran in the kitchen.

"Did you tell the others?"

"Tell them what?" Ran tilts his head at you and leans onto the counter, frowning. Your face smoothes out into an expression of disappointment, and you sigh.

Of course, he hadn't.

It's still your job to carry this terrible secret. It's still your job to bury your deepest, darkest knowing, all while the other girls are parading about like their husbands aren't killers and extortionists.

"Hey, y/n! It's time to open the presents!"

_____________________________________________________________

The water surrounding your figure is warm, full of bubbles and Epsom salt, as well as a little bath bomb that Ran bought - well, he bought sixteen, but that's beside the point.

"Feeling okay? Is it too hot?" You look over to the man sitting on the toilet seat, his elbows resting on his knees as he observes you pour water over your belly.

"It's fine," you murmur, blinking slowly. "Feels good."

"Want to turn on the jets or--"

"I want to join Bonten." Ran's face drops, his violet eyes clouding with confusion.

"I'm sorry?"

"You heard me." You stare at him, fully intent on getting your desired response. "I want to be a part of what you do."

"Babe, no." Ran leans his head forward, rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"You haven't even listened to me," you whisper, looking down at the ten toes poking out of the water. "You always do this. You tell me 'no' because that's the way you want things. I can't even drink coffee without your permission."

"Listen, I'll let you do whatever you want, but Bonten is out of the question. You're pregnant --"

"Then I can wait until I have the baby."

"Even after that, I'm going to say no. This is a dangerous business." He emphasizes his words with a shake of his head, pressing his lips together.

"You act like I wasn't an investigative journalist for ten years."

"This shit could get you killed, y/n."

"Yes," you begin. "But you do it every day. I want to be a part of it."

"Why?" Ran finally asks, and your lips curl into a smile.

"I know things you don't know. The media follows you very closely, and you need a good image if you ever run into a problem with... say, law enforcement. What better way to prove that this is a harmless organization than hiring a woman - your wife?" Ran quirks his lips, looking at the door of the bathroom with consideration.

"Is there any particular skill you'll avail to us other than just public relations? I mean, I could get someone to do that who isn't my wife."

"I have connections that will divert attention away from Bonten, if necessary." You think of the little group you and the other wives have created, and send a mental apology their way. "You can use me to get the word out about any other suspicious groups who might be involved. Aid and abet, like a good wife."

Ran stands from the toilet, sighing deeply. "I'll ask Mikey. But don't expect me to attempt to sway him with my loyalty. If anything, I'll ask him to really think about it before he makes a choice."

"That's all I want," you breathe, taking Ran's hand and pressing your lips against the back of it. "You're too good to me."

"Don't thank me yet, sweetheart."

_____________________________________________________________

Convincing Ran to part with his old-fashioned ways is something you're very skilled at. All you need to do is get on your knees... and be as sweet as you can be.

"Babe," you mutter, sucking Ran's thick cock from the side. "You're such a good husband."

"Buttering me up for Mikey, huh?" Fingers cup the back of your head and push you down slightly. "Why am I not surprised?"

And every single time, Ran sees straight through your little act. But he enjoys it nonetheless. He loves seeing you like this - giving him the attention he missed so much while you were gone.

"Because you know me so well. And that's why you married me."

That's why you married me. Ran's eyes close as he re-imagines himself the first time he decided to visit you, hands full of shit he didn't have to buy, and eyes full of stars at the sight of you answering the door in a tank top and shorts with a cast on your leg. That's when he knew that he wanted to marry you. Not because you're good at anything in particular, but because you were so ordinary... So normal. He needed someone like you then, and he needs you now.

"Stop."

"Am I doing something wrong?" you murmur, but Ran shakes his head, strands of his black and white hair flopping back and forth.

"You're perfect," he whispers. "You're always so perfect." He brings you off your knees and face to face with him, holding you by the arms. "Let me make love to you. I'll do the work," Ran promises. "You just enjoy yourself."

"But--"

"I've already told you what I'm going to do. Just let me give you what you deserve." Ran angles forward, leaning into a gentle kiss that makes your knees weak and your head spin.

Ran spoons you from behind on the bed, holding your leg up and sliding in and out of you with care. The other arm is holding you against him - wrapped around your chest - as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear.

"I love the way you moan my name," he breathes. "You always know how to make me feel like the only man in the world."

"You are," you reply honestly. "You're the only man for me."

_____________________________________________________________

"Why do you want to join Bonten?"

The dead eyes of the man across from you are unyielding, and part of you feels nervous that he's staring at you so intensely.

"I want to help you all out. I want to make sure that not only do my children have something to rely on when they grow up, but that my husband is taken care of in all ways."

"Your children and your husband?" You think of Ran, who is just outside of the door, probably pacing with his hands in his pockets. "Your husband just spent three hours arguing with me."

"About?"

"You." The man stands, and Sanzu looks over at him with blank eyes. He wants to chime in, but he can't say anything right now. Not when Mikey was supposed to handle this himself. "Your presence here will be controversial. Especially since you're... in the state you're in."

"Pregnancy isn't a fatal disease."

"No, but being in Bonten could be fatal. And I don't know if both ran and I would be willing to accept the consequences of two deaths on our hand."

"But--" Sanzu raises a finger to his lips, warning you to be quiet.

"However," the man murmurs, rolling his neck around. "Sanzu, Rindou, and Kakucho have vouched for you and your connections." Your shoulders slacken, and you lean back in the chair, somewhat relieved. "I will put it to an anonymous vote in thirty-six hours. Whatever the outcome is, we'll both accept it."

A blind vote.

Thirty-six hours.

"Thank you, sir." You stand and bow slightly, hands clasped together. When you leave the room, Ran is waiting for you in the hallway, eyes wide.

"Well?"

"It'll be put to an anonymous vote in thirty-six hours. Whatever happens, happens."

Ran's face is anything but pleased as you drive home, but you don't worry about that too much. You have one and a half days to wait for the results, and you'd make the best of it either way.

#ran haitani x reader #ran haitani smut #ran haitani #tokyorev smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #Spotify

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floralseokjin · 3 years

Text

⤑ made-up love song drabbles

First date: Seokjin’s POV

kim seokjin x reader warnings; none! words; 2,196 words

↪︎ read the series here / and drabbles here

Seokjin felt like a drink. It was nine o’clock in the morning, so absolutely out of the question, but it didn’t stop him from craving it. Whiskey. Definitely whiskey. Nana’s PA had just been to pick up Arin for the weekend – Thank God. Finally she would be able to spend time with her mom after a month, which he was over the moon about, and selfishly, that meant his date with you could go ahead. Even if he was so nervous he could throw up.

Work had been a great distraction for the past two days but once he’d woken up this morning the realisation had dawned on him. He was going on a date tonight. His first in a decade. He still couldn’t believe he’d actually gone through with it and asked you to dinner. He’d faced his fears, possibly made a fool of himself and shared too much about his personal life in the process, but you hadn’t seemed to mind at all. You were so easy to talk to, it was refreshing. He’d felt brave for the first time in months – years. But it still didn’t stop him from being on pins as soon as he’d opened his eyes this morning.

He’d showered early, just after Arin had woken up and then he’d helped her get ready for the day too, allowing her to eat her breakfast in front of the television as he tried to swallow down his bowl of porridge too. It tasted like cardboard – but then again, it might have been his cooking. Misook usually made the food around her, when he wasn’t dining out or ordering take out of course.

Arin had noticed his strange mood straight away. Obviously.

“Daddy, what’s wrong with you this morning?” She’d asked, looking over at him warily before hesitating. “I am spending the weekend with mom, right?”

“Of course you are, sweetie” he’d rushed, shaking away the surge of anger he’d felt. It pained him to know she was always expecting the worst lately. “Your mom just text me to say Jia is on her way.”

She’d smiled then, her face lighting up and he couldn’t help but match it, his nerves disappearing for a while. That was until he was left all alone, the house now empty and silent. He eyed the bottle of whiskey on the kitchen counter (where he’d left it after his small nightcap last night) and shook his head. He should drop you a text, just to check in and see if you were still on for tonight. He needed to find out what time to pick you up anyway. He probably should have messaged you the day before, he panicked suddenly, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth as he pulled his phone from his sweatpants pocket. Oh well, there was no time for regrets, that’s what his father always said.

It took him at least ten minutes to figure out what to say. His first draft sounded too cheerful, too false, he was trying way too hard and had added an examination point. His second was too formal, fifteen years of sending business emails back and forth obvious. He settled on something in the middle – he hoped.

Unknown (9:32am) Hi Y/N, It’s Kim Seokjin, Arin’s father. Just wondering if you still want to have dinner tonight? If so, please let me know and I will send through the restaurant details. We can decide on a time for me to pick you up. Regards, Seokjin

Only, reading it back after he hit send he began to second guess himself. Of course you knew who he was, his confidence might be lacking a little right now but he knew he wasn’t totally forgettable. What an idiot. Not that he could do much, there was no turning back. He’d committed.

He busied himself with a bit of Saturday morning cleaning while he waited for your reply, and by that he meant straightening up the pillows he and Arin had been sitting against earlier. When he returned to the kitchen, your message was waiting for him.

You (9:43am) Of course, send the details. I trust your taste!

See, exclamation points suited you. It was cute. He could just imagine you saying it in person, your dazzling smile, maybe that little giggle you’d made a few times on Wednesday. He felt something warm in his chest as he got lost in his thoughts, nerves easing once again. You were excited for tonight, he told himself. Maybe you were even just as nervous as him possibly…

He spent yet another few minutes composing his reply. A lot more casual this time, signing off with just his name. He didn’t always text like this, Namjoon could vouch for him, but he didn’t think you were both quite there yet. He wanted to show his best self after all. He wanted to impress you. He wanted to make you like him as much as he liked you.

Seokjin (9:50am) The sudden pressure… The restaurant’s name is KIM. I hope you like it. Is 7 alright to pick you up? I made reservations for 7:30. Seokjin

In truth, this restaurant was one he co-owned with his brother. Seokchul was the executive chef and they were both very proud of how successful their business venture had become. He knew taking you to such a place might seem like a cop-out – or worse, a brag – but that wasn’t the case at all. He wanted to treat you in a place that meant a lot to him. He could have chosen multiple restaurants, he was a regular at quite a few and could easily get a great table, but see, that did seem like he was showing off and he did not want to give you that impression at all. It was the complete opposite of his personality. KIM was a good choice, he was sure of it, and it helped that his brother didn’t work weekends, so there was no risk of bumping into him. Although, he had let him know about the date (and had begged him not to spill to their mother).

You (9:52am) I will. 7 sounds perfect. I’ll send through my address. See you later!

You followed up with a Google Maps link to your home, and he sent a quick thank you – sans his name this time. With a quick sigh he pocketed his phone again, it was time to get on with his day. He had some paperwork from yesterday to complete by Monday morning so he should probably make a start. He stopped to order a light lunch at midday, ate it as he scrolled through his very limited social media before getting back to it.

He called it a day around 3pm, a call from his mom interrupting his flow. He spent an hour talking, their weekend phone calls were habitual by now and he enjoyed them immensely. He loved his father of course, but their conversations mostly revolved around work. Despite stepping down as CEO three years ago, he was still a vital member of the company, and Seokjin continued to consult him at every opportunity and lean on him for support when things got stressful. With his mom, she was the woman he could still be a kid around. They could talk about anything and everything, but for her own benefit he left out his plans for tonight. He knew what she was like, she’d get way too excited and overwhelmed and before long she’d be sobbing down the line while simultaneously asking to meet you. She’d been wanting him to meet someone new for so long, much like Mrs. Shin. It was a surprise the two women weren’t conspiring behind his back.

No, he’d keep it a secret for now. If things went well tonight, then possibly his mother would get to find out. He wasn’t getting his hopes up though – or at least he was trying not to.

It was just after four when he got off the phone, too early to start getting ready just yet, so he sat in front of the television and tried to concentrate on a series he’d recently started. (It wasn’t going well. He was on about one episode a week out of a nine season TV show.) It was no use though, the nerves were rearing their ugly head again.

He decided to choose his outfit. Seokjin wasn’t much of a thinker when it came to fashion, he just grabbed whatever he saw first that morning, but tonight he wanted to at least put some effort in. After much deliberation he decided on a navy two piece paired with a white dress shirt. It wasn’t over the top, he thought, but nice enough to make that impression that was so very important to him. He kept his hair simple. He’d managed to squeeze in a haircut yesterday so it made things easier, but upon closer inspection in the mirror he noticed those pesky grey hairs of his glittering in the sunlight. He grimaced, worried now. He didn’t know your exact age yet, but it was obvious he was a few years older than you. He was no spring chicken, especially with those wrinkles around his eyes. He had been called handsome all his life, no stranger to it, but right now he was dubious.

He pushed his trivial concerns away and concentrated on the next decision. What car he would take. He didn’t want to go too flash – again with the showing off thing – so the Aston Martin was definitely off the cards. He hadn’t actually driven that one much, going through some sort of so-called midlife crisis when he’d bought it straight after his divorce, so he made a mental note to take it out next weekend. He decided on the Mercedes convertible (roof on, of course). It seemed like a suitable choice, not too flashy at all really. He didn’t want to run the risk of putting you off him or overwhelming you with showy displays. He was well aware of the differences between your lifestyles, not that he cared at all, but it didn’t stop him from understanding. The things that seemed slight to him could very well be enormous for you. He didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable in any way, shape or form.

Shit, on second thoughts maybe his restaurant was a bad idea…

Seokjin was always punctual, he prided himself on it, but tonight it made him nervous. He’d said 7 but it had only just gone quarter to. He couldn’t very well stay in the car for fifteen minutes, you’d spot him out the window, so ever so slowly he opened his car door and stepped out, his heart thudding against his ribcage. He was sure he noticed his hand shaking as he closed it behind him. He was such a mess it was embarrassing.

You lived in a nice little neighbourhood, it seemed quiet, and he admired your pots of flowers in the patch of garden you had as he made his way up the path that led to your front door. He took a deep breath before ringing the doorbell, adjusting his suit jacket as he waited for you to open up. It’s fine, Seokjin, he told himself. It’s just dinner. You’ve done much scarier things in your life. Pull yourself together, man.

A few seconds later the door opened in front of him and you came into view, looking as beautiful as ever. I’m fucked, he thought immediately.

“Hi,“ he forced himself to say as he smiled. He was probably staring but he couldn’t help himself. You looked stunning, your dress deep red in colour and incredibly flattering. His throat felt dry and he swallowed quickly.

“Hey,” you greeted back.

“You look beautiful,“ he couldn’t help but awe, hoping he wasn’t stepping out of line with his compliment.

"Thank you,” you smiled almost shyly. It was adorable. “You look…really good.“

He couldn’t help but burst out laughing at that, aware the sound was probably highly unfaltering, but he couldn’t help it. "I’ll take it. Thanks.” He tilted his head to the right then, composing himself. “Are you ready to go? I’m a bit early, I know. Sorry about that."

He really couldn’t tear himself away from your beauty, but luckily you didn’t seem to notice, busy nodding as you clutched your purse to your side. "I, uh… I would invite you in to kill time but my best friend’s embarrassing.” Your voice raised as you continued, your head turning slightly down the hallway.

He raised an eyebrow, a little confused, but he guessed said best friend was in the house somewhere? He smiled and shook his head. “It’s fine.”

As you stepped forward, a breath of a chuckle slipping from your throat, he moved to the side, outstretching his arm to let you lead the way. You accepted with a brief nod of your head, your gazes catching for a split second. God, you were gorgeous.

His nerves might have eased a tad, but his heart was still beating just as fast – if not more.

#seokjin fanfic #bts fanfic #mls:drabbles #fic:mls #floralseokjin:writings

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fedonciadale · 4 years

Note

I understand why you are defensive about Sansa and sympathize with her. Yet most of her fans are white women like you. Many WOC are drawn towards Arya, Arianne or Daenerys and not towards Sansa because the latter is a walking talking embodiment of faux elitist white feminism. Sansa might in the later part of story vouch about equality. Many suffregettes in 19th and 20th century weren't sympathetic about the "savage" races.

I’m fully aware of the history of the suffragettes, thank you very much. I know about the problematic aspects of the suffragette movement, but real feminism has developed beyond that. Ideas evolve, and the idea of feminism actually developed to encompass equality in every regard (that is at least what I understand when I talk of myself as being a feminist).

And I would strongly suggest that you look up some definitions.

None of the women in ASOIAF are feminists. They fight for their own right, not for the rights of women in general.

Sansa can’t be an embodiment of “white feminism” because a) she is not a feminist and b) she has no poc in her arc. So you can just shut up about that.

Dany is also not a feminist, she fights for her own right for the Iron Throne, her family’s elitist right to an ugly chair and she does so on the back of poc. So, if anyone is the embodiment of what today would be ‘white feminism’ it is her. Look at how she thinks about the people of Essos in her chapters and tell me again how very egalitarian she is. I am a white woman, that is true, but I know many woc who do not like Dany, not at all.

As for Arianne, I know many Sansa fans who also like Arianne and vice versa (including myself). There is no beef between Sansa fans and Arianne fans, not to my knowledge. And I honestly think, it’s ridiculous that you try to drive a wedge in between these two (intersecting) fandoms. And of course woc are drawn to Arianne. Arianne is woc herself.

I won’t list all the woc Sansa fans I know. If you would have spend any time in the Sansa tag you could have easily found out that they exist.

Honestly, I’m all for discussions, but you get on my nerves.

#anon ask #Sansa Stark #Sansa Stark defence squad #feminism #Anti Daenerys #fandom foolery

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thebadboyfanclub · 4 years

Text

You Can Do Better (Rio x Reader)

Requested by anon, i’ve posted this for the third time and tumblr is being a fucking asshole to the point were i’m thinking of quitting this since every week I get a new way of them hiding my works. Enjoy it while it lasts

T.W. mentioning of attempted rape

(Y/n) had been Micks neighbor for a few months before the incident happened, this absolute dumpster was the only thing she could afford at the time, fresh out of college, in a foreign country without any family, but she was hoping to moving quickly. However, when Mick was coming home, he heard her screams and cries for help from the bottom of the stairs, he had seen her once or twice, even baked him cookies when he first moved in, she was nice and a quiet neighbor.

He found (y/n) being held down by two men in masks and one of them try to rape her, she was begging and screaming, he almost acted on instict when he shot the guy in the back, the other tried to attack him and he also ended up with a bullet in between his eyes. (Y/n) thanked him and Mick had to stop her from calling the police. Instead they called Rio. He was met with two dead bodies, A girl in her torn pajamas shaking and crying and Mick trying to calm her down.

“Those motherfuckers”

Was all he said, it didn’t take a genius to figure out what had gone down, Rio was a criminal and balls deep in despicable things, yet he was proud to say he had never laid hands on a woman nor a child. He kneeled in front of her, took a good look at her eyes, her entire body shaking as she looked at him, you could sense the trauma she had been through.

Rio had heard of her when Mick told him about this little girl next door that baked him cookies as a welcoming gift, he recalled how his friend laughed when he mentioned that the girl asked him his opinion about the next tattoo she wanted to get. Now this happy light hearted girl was replaced because two men thought they are superior.

“Hi sweetheart, I understand this is hard, we will take care of everything alright? You trust us?”

“I had locked the door, I was sleeping”

“I know sweetheart, it wasn’t your fault. We’ll take care of you ok?”

“Thank you”

Since Mick had vouched for her and Rio had seen her at her worst they felt obligated to take her under their wings, maybe even help her earn a little more money, get a good car, pay her bills comfortably, that sort of stuff. Until one day she asked to do more, get initiated

“Mama this isn’t the playground, we ain’t playing cops and robbers”

“I know, but you said I am learning quickly, why not teach me more?”

“Why you wanna do this? All of a sudden you feel like being a gangster? You were shaking in your shoes a few months ago”

“I’m done being your little child Rio, I want to hold my own. I will do this with or without you”

Rio looked at her with a serious face. She was growing, becoming fearless, ruthless, he had seen it coming, she was picking up more slack, asking more questions, she wanted to prove herself.

“You’re threating me mama?”

“And what if I am?”

She quickly not only proved herself, she became one of his most valuable members, she was his secret weapon, nobody would suspect a young little hotel receptionist being linked to them. She worked twice as hard and smarter than most if not all his men, advised him wisely and was always cool, calm and collected, she worked best under pressure. Scared little (y/n) felt like had never even happened, she was his soldier now, she had Micks status and Mick couldn’t be more proud, he had a soft spot for her.

“Hey mister policeman, Have some room for another criminal?”

She joked as she leaned at the door of her car, waiting for the new little boy toy to get out of the police station. Now the normal question is why is (y/n) around a police man, there is a two part answer to that. Great lover and also great cover, she was his little thing, so nobody would dare blame you for any crime, the girl of the police man being a gangster? it sounded like a joke.

“Depends on what crime we are talking about miss”

“I can think of a few, we can put those handcuffs to use”

As he approached her she smiled and took off her sunglasses. She looked amazing in her blue loose ripped jeans and a simple oversized white t shirt, a chain necklace around her neck and some nice rings on her fingers as her hair fell in front of her breasts, wearing a pair of high heels to style it up.

How you doing gorgeous?”

“Oh you know, thriving and surviving. How about you, I thought you had a day off today”

“Yes but I got assigned to a new case”

“Ohhhh should I be concerned? any criminal on the loose?”

“Not really, we are trying to find a link for this Rio guy”

Jackpot, this couldn’t have gone better. She tried to contain her smile and leaned back on the door, acting like nothing had happened.

“Oh I think you’ve mentioned him before, what did he do now?”

“Lots of things but motherfucker always slips away, chief thinks he has someone on the inside”

“Like a dirty cop?”

“Yes, so he wants me to look into it”

“Look at you, leading a case... Sexy”

The guy smiled at her, he was completely fooled and hooked. She hadn’t told anyone about her plan of seducing him to get information, she didn’t need to up until this point, yet what she did not calculate was Rio seeing her outside the police station talking to a fucking cop, the outmost enemy and being all close and cozy to him, acting all buddy buddy in broad daylight.

“I’m glad you like it miss”

“There’s a lot of things I like about you baby, anyway I have to go, I have a shift to clock in to”

“I’ll see ya later?”

“Maybe. Bye handsome”

At that (Y/n) got in her car and drove away. Rio was pissed, the girl he trusted and the girl he wanted was flirting with a policeman, how could she? He trusted her, taught her everything he knew, gave her everything with generosity and she was becoming a cops whore? Of course it wasn’t just about flirting with a cop, it was flirting with someone that wasn’t him.(Y/n) was a charming woman, he found her extremely attractive and she was even better now with the confidence she had gained over time, she was a woman he craved, the woman he wanted to have on his side, a queen that could hold the keys to his kingdom. Now all this was slowly shattering, no there had to be an explanation and he couldn’t wait to hear it.

Of course he could not just appear at her workplace, she was gracious enough to arrange a room for him incognito when Beth shot him, yet they had to act like strangers so all he could do was wait for her.

“Hey boss, sorry I’m late I had to take care of a few things”

“Like that cop friend of yours?”

She had barely closed the door of his office before he blurred it out, he had this whole plan of making her confess by herself, except when he saw her he lost control. Betrayal and confusion clouded his mind, as she stood there a bit dumbfounded for a quick moment before smirking at him.

“Stalking much?”

“I like to make sure my people are in line”

“Really? Is that why Beth is still walking around unharmed?”

He knew how much that had shook her up, (Y/n) took care of him almost as good as the doctor, she stayed with him until he fell asleep, helped him renew his bandages and anything else he needed, even though she never said it he was aware she was extremely concerned for him and he was grateful for her care, which made it even more complicated considering the fact that he was slowly becoming more addicted to her, needing and wanting more than she gave him.

“Let’s just cut to the shit, what were you doing there?”

“Talking”

“Talking? to a cop? what is this (y/n) huh?”

She sat in the chair calmly, any normal person would have either shit their pants or told him what they were planning right away. (Y/n) on the other hand found this amusing, she had grown tired of him doing things without considering the danger he was putting himself, especially when it came to Beth and the others, if it was anyone else they would have been six feet under the second Rio opened his eyes, now he had cut them in once again and had almost gotten Boss status.

“Yes, one of your little ladies is married to a cop, what’s the issue with me talking then?”

“Last time I check you ain’t never flapped your gums to a fed”

“I don’t flap my gums Rio, I have conversations and if you really want to know he is my new boy toy. He also was the one that told me about your case, how the fuck do you think I got the information? By holding interviews?”

Rio didn’t know how to feel, she was still working for him, had used her privilege to get information for him that had saved him a lot of money, however the whole “boy toy” thing did not sit well, she liked him, she gave him her time and even though she was stringing him along, she still had him in her life.

“You did what you were supposed to do and you got rewarded, so why you still talking to him”

“Don’t start the bullshit Rio, I’m not your daughter nor your girl so why do you care who am i fucking with”

“Where’s your fucking respect to your boss (y/n)?”

“Respect? how about where’s the respect for yourself? You let the suburban moms do whatever the fuck they are doing and I’m getting shit for having sex and getting you info from the feds?”

He was pushing it, he knew that and he didn’t care, it was time to reveal his cards and she was going to do the same, whether she liked it or not. Rio leaned back on his chair, his hand rubbing his chin as he looked at her, sitting there and looking right back at him, she wasn’t lying he knew that, she had a point for the suburban moms and she had expressed her disapproval for the little thing that was going on between him and Beth. What he did not understand was if she didn’t like it cause she was a tad bit jealous or because it fucked with their money and reputation?

“You are something else you know that?”

“Yet you still question my methods, if I remember correctly I wasn’t the one that planted three bullets in you”

“You are scared of losing me mama?”

She did not respond, she just turned and looked away from him. Of course (y/n) had picked up his little flirty remarks from time to time, she would be lying to herself if she didn’t admit she had thought of how he would be in bed, how his embrace would feel, his raspy voice was enough to start fantasies enough to make a book.

“Let’s say I am, what are you scared of Rio? Why do you care who I’m sleeping with?”

“He is a cop”

“A handsome cop, I’m sure you noticed how nicely that uniform was on him, let me tell you it’s even better when he sweats”

“I don’t need to hear it”

“Why? Does it bother you Christopher?”

She raised herself from the seat and placed her hands on the desk, leaning closer to him and making her breasts show just enough as her back curved in a perfect little S, she focused in his eyes as her tongue went over her upper lip. Rio got closer to her, his hand reached her face, as he held on to the side of her head and his thumb went over the lower lip.

“You’re not for him mama”

“Why not?”

“A woman like you is not for no goody two shoes, you can do better”

“Really? like who?”

They could feel each others breaths, their faces were almost touching as they both spoke in whispers, this conversation was not meant for no one else, they didn’t even have to speak as their body language was saying everything it needed to be said. She felt her breath become more swallow, his scent was getting her a tad bit flustered and so was hers to him.

He wanted to take her right here and then, just the idea of her naked body was enough to drive him wild, her hair was so soft he could only imagine them stuck on her face from the sweat, the most amazing part was her lips, soft and full that made his mind go wild with the need to feel them in his lips and his body, the doors to her moans.

“I can show you better than I can tell you”

“Let’s get it then boss”

#rio x reader #rio imagine #rio x you #rio x oc #good girls rio #good girls nbc #rio good girls #good girls imagine #nbc good girls #manny montana imagine #manny montana x reader #manny montana x you #manny montana #good girls x reader #good girls rio x reader #good girls rio nbc #rio

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okie-writes · 2 years

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Room of One's Own

To say bluntly that I was reading a book is a rather bland start to whatever ramblings I'm exhibiting the nerve to be writing. But I was, and I hardly focused on what I did. A pdf about a wall, if I remember right. A white wall, a pink wall, a wall with cracked plaster, or one meticulously painted hardly has an effect on my thoughts as the thoughts were more important, an important thought, that too.

When Virginia Woolf said, to be a little pretentious to quote her from the veils of a hundred years of past, that a woman needs five hundred pounds and year and a room of one's own to write fiction, it still resonates in this decade. Why, this very day. But it is not confined to the many walls of fiction, nor is it applicable only to those living downtrodden, beneath the planks of the modern society. It lives through me, searching for a more economical means of living than research, and my friend who decides against a literature degree for sake of the economy. It lives through every girl who is told that she cannot live with a petty job like a boy, boys, it seems, have it easy. They can live by whatever means they choose. But it lives through him as well. Through all the clever ones coerced into "viable" careers. It ripples across all of us, calling unto us from ages across. A child, it seems, needs a stable career and of course, a room of one's own, to pursue a life of his choice.

And there I am, seventeen and tall and large. I should be ready to plunge right into the waterfalls of the modern society and scrounge its riverbeds to find my one stone, my true 'destiny' (I can't say the word with a loud cackle from my heart). But there I was, helplessly waving my limbs high up in the air, throwing them out and curling again like an infant. I could see no vision which is said to have enlightened the greats. So were those I knew. They were groping for something solid in a dark room. The floor was solid, but slowly disintegrating into a flock of fleeting dust. The more we waited, the more we watched, the more of the floor underwent this metamorphosis and our feet reached for a pedestal.

The therapist had read a poem and ventured to predict my future, l'avenire: a writer. And I stood lost and bearing the weight of futility in putting together my words in front of my brother. It was a bad choice. Their wretched forms will haunt you throughout your life, he would have said. They all say. Bad choices. Those are the ones without a topping of golden flakes and green papers bearing the faces of the great builders. Those are the ones that do not lead one to the castles built over beds of silver coins. Those are the ones who fail to gift one with white yachts with flying flags. But that was the one I needed. One adorned with colours of secret glory, which might someday leak and seep into the sewers of the watching world. Or perhaps flow from there to the waters and rise like vapours to fall on one fine monsoon day, washing it, drowning it. forever remaining in the cellars beneath the soil. And those droplets would devise a way to mould themselves into a room, and maybe, a way to quench my thirst. I do not preach certainty. Nor do I vouch for that rain. But it might, a chance that I risk. But the risk worth taking. A risk that is potent to build a room of one's own, in that mansion of gilded statues.

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pi-cat000 · 3 years

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BNHA: Kakashi dimension hops crossover (1)

Summary: Kakashi gets dumbed into the My Hero Academia universe through random plot devise.

Characters: Kakashi Hatake

Fandoms: My Hero Academia and Naruto

WARNINGS: Mentions of violence/injury

Inspired by Unforeseen Mayhem by Aerugonian

Here is their tumblr (all their work is so good)

(NEXT)

...

Kakashi thinks he might have died. He remembers the flash of steel and Obito’s face or maybe it had been Madara. His memory of the events leading up to the attack are hazy after receiving one too many hits to the head. What he does remember is the slowly spinning, hypnotic red of a Sharingan, and the quick build-up then explosion of chakra.

Then there was excruciating pain in his left eye and…darkness…

…

Kakashi opens his remaining, usable eye to gaze up at tall angled structures that stretch into a grey overcast sky. He can’t feel the left side of his face, his limbs are numb and unresponsive, and there is the damp of blood soaking through his hair. The bone-deep ache of chakra exhaustion is so all-encompassing that he can barely lift his hand let alone stop the bleeding. Around him, there are several people yelling in shock and surprise. Civilians he vaguely notes as he clings to consciousness. There is no sign of Madera, Obito or any of Kakashi’s allies for that matter.

When his vision dims for a second time he thinks that this, this would be his last breath. Alone, severely injured, in a foreign location and with only civilians as help? It was a death sentence.

He is wrong in the end.

…

Kakashi wakes up in a strange hospital bed surrounded by the strangest people he has ever seen. He also wakes up covered in bandages, his more serious injures either treated or in various stages of recovery.

The air is dry with a distinct lack of chakra. It is something he would usually only see in a prison cell made to contain dangerous shinobi in which chakra draining fuinjutsu arrays were applied to the walls and floor. There are no fuinjutsu arrays here. This is not a prison cell. For one, there is a large window. Secondly, there is a constant stream of doctors, nurses and other patients moving in, out and around the building. Finally, the door to the room is not locked. It doesn’t even have a lock.

After memorising the comings and goings of the people working in the strange hospital, he takes some time to scout. Even while injured and drained of chakra, he has enough skill and experience to avoid the workers and other sickly people he shares his room with.

The world outside his window is one of cement, concrete and brick, with tall imposing structures covered in reflective glass standing higher than any building he has seen before. The closest point of comparison he has are the buildings in the Hidden-Rain and Stone villages but even those are a loose approximation. The hospital is both similar to Konoha’s main hospital, abet a lot bigger and full of strange equipment and technology. The people, despite their lack of chakra, display odd and inconstant abilities, techniques and physical deformities. One of the doctors has a lizard tail and he catches a glimpse of a man with a wooden block for a head. He sees a woman heal a cut with a simple hand wave. Either he is in an unusually elaborate and detailed genjutsu or he is very far away from Kohoha.

Everything is so odd and strange that he is well and truly stumped, leaving him with nothing else to do but quickly return to his hospital room. At least the weird chakra-less people are non-hostiles and willing to provide much needed medical attention. Though he is, as of yet, uncertain about the purpose or motive behind said medical attention seeing as he was a complete unknown to them.

After some consideration, Kakashi decides to wait. He has no idea how he ended up in the place aside from a loose theory that involved his still healing Kamui Sharingan. Additionally, there was no use trying to get back home with stab wounds, his leg broken, his ribs cracked, his shoulder muscles torn and his chakra levels so pathetically low that he’d probably kill himself if he tried.

He takes solace in the fact that his presence, while probably missed to some extent- he likes to think so anyway- wouldn’t impact the outcome of any major conflict. With Naruto’s stubbornness and Sakura’s tenacity, home would be waiting for him, even if he took a bit of time getting there.

…

After a week of information gathering -ie pretending to be unconscious and listening to conversations- Kakashi concludes that the people operating the hospital are relatively harmless. They seem to be under the mistaken impression that Kakashi is a citizen of their village and thus automatically entitled to medical attention. This is despite his lack of identification or history with the place. Such a thing would never happen in Konoha as even civilians were carefully monitored and tracked. Without identification or relatives/friends to vouch for them, a civilian would more likely be thrown out of the village than given what was surely resource-consuming medical treatment. It is lucky for him that there are apparently so many civilians in this village that their shinobi-equivalent forces couldn’t properly keep track of them all. Another point in favour of it not being any sort of hidden-village or any place he was familiar with.

“Oh, thank goodness!” Says the greying, middle-aged man in a white coat as he approaches Kakashi's bed, “You’re finally awake. How do you feel.”

“Ah…a bit tired,” Kakashi plasters on a confused smile, raising his undamaged hand to rub the back of his head, hunching his shoulders for good measure. The perfect image of a disoriented patient.

“What happened? Where am I?”

There was only so much he could achieve be pretending to be unconscious and snooping around at night. It was time to get a real feel for residents of this strange place and figure out his next move. This meant integrating into the local culture.

“No need to worry. You’re in Hosu General Hospital and you’re well on your way to recovery,” A nod and the doctor moves forward to stand beside his bed, “A little drowsiness is a normal side effect of the pain medication we have you on. Now, if I may have your name?”

“Kakashi.” If they hadn’t recognised the Sharingan when they had bandaged it up, then they most likely wouldn’t recognise his name either.

“Well, Kakashi,” The man says with no hint of acknowledgement, “My name is Wada Yasutoki and I’m here to make sure you are recovering properly. Can you tell me if you are feeling any discomfort or pain at the moment?”

“Hmmm…my arm and leg?”

“Would you be able to rate it on a scale of 1 to 10?”

Kakashi thinks for a second and shrugs, “3.” Honestly, he only notices the pain when he’s consciously paying attention.

Another nod and Doctor Wada fusses about, examining the bandages around his shoulder and then his leg, “Well, they seem to be healing as well as any broken limb, maybe even a bit faster. And the stab wound near your chest is almost completely gone.” A thoughtful hum follows the statement. “If not for your left eye I would say you had a healing or regeneration quirk…hmmm…maybe a passive healing factor linked to your quirk…?” Wada looks to him, waiting for confirmation and Kakashi shrugs. From his nightly snooping he knows that ‘quirk’ is the term for the bloodline ability things the people here had.

The Doctor doesn’t press the matter instead asking, “Is there any discomfort in the left side of your face?”

“No.” Kakashi doesn’t want the people here touching his eye any more than necessary. The fact that it is draining charka at its usual sluggish rate was a sign that it was, at least, somewhat functional and that’s good enough for him. He guesses he should be thankful for landing in a place with medicine advanced enough to save it.

“You had us concerned when you didn’t wake after we saw to all your injuries,” The Doctor continues, “Your left eye took quite a bit of damage and we were worried that there might have been some sort of brain injury. If you feel dizzy, lightheaded or confused please, do not hesitate to call a nurse.”

The man shakes his head and sighs, “Now, I understand if you want a bit of space after going through such a traumatic event but if you could provide any details concerning the predicament that ended with you so badly injured it would be a great help to the investigation.”

Kakashi gives a faked confused hum and smiles apologetically, “Sorry Doctor Wada. I'm having trouble remembering much of anything really.”

“Nothing? No details about the potential assailant at all. What they look like? Their quirk?”

“No. Where is Hosu General Hospital by the way?”

His bland expression obviously causes his doctor some concern as he is subjected to a penlight being shone in his uncovered eye.

“It is located in Hosu City, a ward of Tokyo. Where is the last place you remember being?”

The names mean nothing to him. Kakashi schools his features into one of complete confusion, “I don’t remember.”

It’s not even a lie this time.

After the admission, Doctor Wada only grows more concerned and Kakashi is subjected to many reassurances that it is completely normal to forget a few things after a brain injury and that he shouldn’t worry himself too much. The level of comforting and reassuring is a bit much if he is being honest. Never before has he longed for the cold frowns of Konoha’s medic-nin.

“I’ll have to schedule you in for an MRI. If you’re having trouble recalling basic facts alongside your long-term memories, then there might a serious problem.” The older man finally concludes, having run through an extensive list of questions regarding Kakashi’s history all of which he answers with vague half-truths. Where did he grow up? Somewhere with a lot of trees. Did he have any close relatives? He thinks they might have died when he was little. What does he do for a living? Commission work. Did he have any colleagues? He doesn’t know where they are. So on and so forth.

“It’s a shame your ID and phone were missing when they found you. Stolen by the bastard who put you in this situation no doubt,” the Doctor sighs again, “We might have been able to track down your records. Oh well, we’ll do our best with what we have.”

Kakashi doesn’t speak, pretending to be deep in thought. Mentally, he pats himself on the back for an infiltration gone surprisingly well considering his lack of preparation and the flakiness of the ‘sorry I don’t remember my backstory’ excuse.

“I don’t suppose you remember anything about your quirk,” the doctor asks, “Ocular quirks can have odd effects on brain activity and ability to process information. It might give us a place to start.”

From what he had seen, ‘quirks’ tended to have a specific function but he is still trying to figure out their limits. All he knew for sure was that none of them used chakra.

“It’s called the Sharingan.” He offers to see what the doctor does with the information, “I don’t remember much else about it.”

“Hmmm, ‘copy wheel eye’…it’s a descriptive name at least. Maybe a quirk that deals with memorisation or information recall. I will see if I can find it on the Quirk Registry. Hopefully, that will be enough. ”

Kakashi nods loosely in agreement, filing away the fact that there was a Quirk Registry for later contemplation.

(NEXT)

#bnha #bnha fanfic #mha #hatake kakashi #hero killer arc #crossover fic #dimension travel AU #culture shock #boku no academia #naruto #kakashi headcanons

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