#i had actual physical heartache over it

[cosmicallyavg]

has anyone else ever stopped to think how the tardis feels when doctors and companions leave because its ruining me rn

like imagine you're this sentient spaceship and you have an unbreakable bond with a time lord who stole you and ran away. and how sad it must be watching them die and be reborn over and over again. feeling them die and be reborn over and over again. oftentimes destroying your very being in the process. you've been together for thousands of years, possibly more, and you've gone on nearly every adventure together. 

they know you inside and out (literally) and while they are a quite careless owner, they make up for it with the constant repairs when you get damaged or need general maintenance. its how they show you they care, because you know they do. you have a telepathic connection with them, after all.

you take them wherever they need to go, even if its not where they want to go. its fun to show off every now and then and make it look like they don't know how to pilot you. but all of time and space, so many distress signals, you hear planets and ships and people calling out for help. your time lord isn't like the others, they like to help. you take them to those people so they can help.

and oh, the people. your time lord likes to pick up strays along the way - human beings more often than not. you don't particularly like the idea, the humans always have sad endings, and you don't like to see - to feel - your time lord experience that sadness over and over again. but they continue. how many has it been now? too many to count. but you keep count, you do. 

some of the humans you're more fond of than others. some of them your time lord is more fond of than the others. some of them grow on you, others don't, but all the same if your time lord cares about them, you care about them. you like when they say that you’re bigger on the inside, that part is fun.

perhaps you don’t mind the humans as much as you should, you're supposed to have multiple pilots anyway. if this is how you procure them, then so be it. unfortunately your time lord never cares to show any of them how. they would rather bumble around on their own and crash land into things than share that part of you to their human friends. hubris has always been their downfall.

there have been a few that have done it though, some more successfully than others. finally! you have another pilot!! you like these ones especially, they pilot you much more carefully than your time lord ever has, and they have established what little telepathic connection their tiny human brains can handle. not quite the same that you have with your time lord, but every little bit helps you feel more connected to those humans than the others.

it hurts more when those ones leave.

it hurts when all of them leave.

but your time lord continues on. drying up the tears and probably regenerating into a new face - again - but this new face loves you all the same. they pick up more strays. the strays leave. repeat endlessly.

you have too many bedrooms in storage, too many clothing preferences in the back of your wardrobes, too many favorite snacks left to expire in the cupboards, too many personal items and too many souvenirs from their travels hidden away, never to be picked up again. but you're infinite, you can keep going so long as your time lord keeps breathing. you can continue growing and changing, making room for every new human friend, altering yourself for every version of your time lord.

you hold all of these memories, all of these lives, just the same as your time lord. but they don't have to organize, sort, and carry the physical reminders of all of those lives like you do.

they can saunter off and forget it all, when its convenient. but you know they don't actually forget. neither of you can ever forget. 

and the weight isn't any less just because there's two of you to carry it.

[spirit-meets-the-b0ne]

I can’t believe what a point of contention this has become. I genuinely cannot understand the animosity towards it lol

Seriously post after post bitching and crying and begging for this to be destroyed - now besides how grossly disrespectful that would be to the stone masons who worked on this for years - it’s bizarre? I understand the criticism against Viserys (as a father, husband, King) but as a Targaryen - this endeavor is probably the most noble. So, while I see the childish thought process behind “smashing his legos” - come on be ffr.

The Doom of Valyria was catastrophic and while I’m hesitant to call it a “lost civilization” it is akin to the Atlantian mythology in nature and description. It’s not only the ancestral home of Houses Targaryen and Velaryon, but it was a major hub of magic, the most advanced city in the known world and likely the place of origin of the Faceless Men. The Doom is endlessly fascinating, from its predictions to the sheer cataclysmic scale of it all. I mean 14 volcanoes erupting at once would make Pompeiis explosion look like a candle to the sun.

Recreating Valyria by painstakingly pouring over texts to replicate what once was is a tragic echo that reverberates through generations. And for a fandom that shouts back and forth about “true Targaryen” definitions it seems most of those don’t care for that echo. The epic demise of a homeland filled with magic and dragons that are never to be seen again should be more than a foot note. A generational trauma that follows every Targaryen - the ever present fear that the Doom will swallow them too - down to Dany and her dragons which would have seemingly signified the return of magic long lost. How could any “true” Targaryen have anything but heartache over the loss of Valyria and the Freehold? How could they not be plagued with the weight on their shoulders that none in Westeros could truly sympathize with?

And I’ve long held a grudge against HBO for the way they mistreat Magic (and race, gender, sexuality, etc) in these fantasy series (no I’m never going to forgive them ESPECIALLY in HotD for not doing the CGI purple eyes [somehow Witcher had it in the budget AND it looked good] because of how much that trait was a distinctly other/outsider signifier) but this stupid little model is actually one of only additions I respect. Because while it can be viewed as some petty distraction for a physically deteriorating chronically ill history buff to get away from his kids - it is the biggest symbol of devotion to Targaryen culture - way more than anything else in the series. So I’ll die on this hill. The legos must be protected.

[winters-dream]

Hero has amnesia from an injury Villain caused. Guilty, Villain took them in until their memory returns:

Hero halted in their tracks, their breath caught in their throat. Villain, fresh out of a shower, stood in the middle of the room with only a towel to keep them decent. Their hair, still very damp, dripped small water droplets onto their shoulders that ran down their perfectly sculpted chest.

Their perfectly sculpted chest that Hero was openly gawking at. A wave of heat rushed into their cheeks, coloring their face and neck scarlet. They wanted to turn away, leave the room. Something to give Villain back their privacy, or at least make themself seem less of a pervert. 

But they couldn’t tear their eyes away from the scar that took up most of Villain’s torso. Pale in color, the scar ran from the top of their left shoulder to the center of their stomach. The surrounding skin was warped and Villain’s shoulder looked like it took most of the damage. Hero found themself wondering if it ever healed properly, if Villain had full use of their shoulder. 

“It’s rude to stare,” said the villain, their voice cutting through Hero’s thoughts like a knife. Hero’s eyes shot up to the villain’s face, a deep scowl present on the criminal’s face. “It’s even more rude to walk into one’s bedroom without knocking. Did you forget your manners as well?”

“Sorry, no, I didn’t mean to walk in on you. Or to stare at you, you’re um,” Hero rushed their words out, pausing momentarily as their eyes drifted back down to Villain’s scar. “I, uhm, I just had a question, I wasn’t trying to be rude.”

They looked back up at the Villain’s eyes, their cold stare not wavering for a moment. They felt frozen in place. And hopeless. Villain often had that effect on Hero. Their frightening aura alone was enough to set alarms off in Hero’s head. They were helpless, like a deer staring at oncoming traffic, unable to move out of the way before they got hit. 

Hero could hardly imagine what made them think they ever had a chance in a fight against Villain, what their pre-amnesia self was thinking.

“Are you going to actually ask the question?” asked Villain. “Or are you just going to stare?”

“Uhm.” Hero couldn’t remember their question, the surprise of seeing the half-naked Villain threw their train of thought off track. They averted their gaze away from the Villain’s annoyed stare, their eyes falling back to their scar. 

“Your scar,” mumbled the hero. “What happened?”

Villain tensed at the question, something of pain, anger, and resentment flashed in their eyes. They turned their head away from the hero, hero could see the muscles of their jaw working as they ground their teeth together. 

“I had a big fight a few years back,” they spoke in a hushed tone. 

Hero could only muster a small ‘oh’ as they stepped closer to the Villain, their hand outstretched towards them hesitantly. Villain said nothing as the hero’s fingers brushed over the scar, the tissue rough and bumpy compared to the surrounding skin.

“Does it hurt?” hero asked. Their head hurt, something about the scar seemed vaguely familiar, though Hero couldn’t place how.

“It did when it first happened,” admitted the villain. “But not anymore. Physically at least.”

A strange sense of guilt swam through Hero’s chest the longer they stared at the scar, a pained expression contorting their face as they pulled their hand away from the Villain’s chest. Physically at least.

“The person who did this was close to you?” Hero asked.

Villain looked away, the pain they felt in their heart too great to look the oblivious hero in the eye. “Something like that.”

Hero looked away from Villain's chest, focusing their attention on their own hands. “That must be awful. I can't believe that someone you were supposed to trust could do that to you.”

Villain’s gaze snapped back onto them, pain and anger evident in their eyes. They didn’t speak, just stared at the hero with a hardened gaze. Heavy with many years of heartache, pain, anger, guilt. Hero knew they were the cause of a great deal of it. And they wished they could remember all of it so they could at least try to make things right . . .  

“It was me,” they realized. “I did this to you.”

A deep sigh left through Villain’s nose as they backed away, turning towards their closet. 

“Yeah,” they whispered.

Hero averted their eyes back to the ground, guilt heavy in their heart as flashes of a memory came back. The putrid smell of rain mixed with blood. The shine of a sword swiping upwards, cutting into Villain’s skin. Blood and dirt mixed together as Hero tried to stop the bleeding. 

Their head was pounding now. 

“Why were we even fighting?” asked Hero. They heard the rustling of fabric and looked up to see Villain had put on some sweats and was in the process of searching for a shirt. Hero could only bring themself to be a little appalled that Villain didn’t mind the Hero’s presence as they changed.

“I don’t remember the reason,” said Villain. “The fight was so long ago.”

They turned back to face Hero as they pulled a shirt over their head, covering the scar as they did. They walked closer to the hero, lifting a hand up towards their face. They used their knuckle to wipe away a tear Hero didn’t even know they had shed. 

“I’m sorry,” whispered Hero. “I'm a horrible person. I don’t know why you’re helping me.”

Villain gave them a long look. “Me neither.”

[crxss01]

— Heartache

pairing ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ jason grace x reader

summary ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊ jason and you were dating before he was taken by hera, when he comes back he chooses piper over you leaving you heartbroken.

warnings ✧˖ ° angst, hurt/no comfort, breaking up (is not even stated, he just dated someone else), curse words, jason is kind of an asshole, i love him but i hate him here, piper was clueless about your existence, no piper bashing.

m. list, main m.list.

a/n . . ◟੭ hey, sweet anon! i found this request so interesting and i really enjoyed (even though it hurt) writing this idea for you!

you stood stunned, looking at your boyfriend as he stood there having just climb out of the greek ship. you were too shocked to move towards him, almost a year ago you had started dating and then a couple of months ago he completely disappeared but that time he was missing only made your feelings for him grow.

you had grown desperate to find him and when you found out that he had been sent to camp half-blood you had felt relieved because that meant that there was a chance he was still alive and that you would be able to see him again.

you finally got over your surprised and when you took one step to run towards him like the blonde had done for percy, you didn’t know how you hadn’t notice the hand that jason was holding or the way he was looking at you with guilty eyes.

those same eyes that used to look exactly like that when he did something that you didn’t like, for example one time he made your entire cohort have cleaning duty for a week for something only one of you guys did. it pissed you off extremely that all of your cohort had to pay for somebody’s mistake, now that look was there and you didn’t like it one bit.

this couldn’t be happening.

during the feast you watched their interactions quietly and you weren’t dumb so you connected the dots quickly, hazel kept giving you glances full of pity and reyna glanced at you once in a while.

when others started going their separate ways, (ella with tyson, octavian leaving with leo and others just doing whatever.) you finally decided to speak up when jason had the audacity to ask reyna if he could show the girl, piper, around.

“jason, i think that we have something to discuss before you do that. don’t you think?” you raised an eyebrow, using all your strength to pray to the gods that you don’t start to cry right then and there.

“umm, sure..” he appeared uncomfortable, and piper looked confused.

“i’m his girlfriend,” you told her. “or ex? i don’t know, last time i saw him i was pretty sure we were even in love with each other.” you said the word like it physically hurt to say, and it did because he even told you that he loved you so what was this shit he was pulling now.

“hey,” jason said before you can continue saying more stuff. “we’ll talk, you don’t have to put this onto her. she didn’t know.”

you bit the inside of your cheek, trying to stop yourself from crying and nodded, turning and walking away from the group expecting him to follow you which he did but not before telling her that he will explain everything later. the way he defended her hurt you so much, it was like you didn’t matter anymore.

you finally reached a place where you could have some privacy with him, it was actually the thinking tree. the spot where you and jason met, where he met up with you a couple of times before dating you, where he asked you out, where you had your first kiss with him, where you two said your first i love you and where you last saw each other until now.

you were the one to name the tree and you remember jason’s sweet laugh when you told him the name, he found it interesting that you liked to come under a tree so that you would be able to think with nothing else in mind and then go and give it a name.

“you remember this?” you asked him, nodding at the tree.

“yeah…” he looked at it and you hoped he was getting deja vu.

“why are you dating her?” you asked him, straight to the point. “you are dating me, jason. that’s called cheating, something i never expected you to do.”

“listen, i didn’t mean to. it just happened.” jason explained. “i really like her, and i want to stay with her.”

“did you have your memories back at the time this feelings continued to grow?” you asked, still trying to keep your cool.

“yes,” he nodded. “but there was nothing i could do to stop it.”

“jason, i—” your voice broke, the tears started to spill out. “i w—waited for you, all this time…”

“i’m sorry, but i didn’t ask you to do that.” jason said, looking at you with pity which you hated. “i want to stay with her because she makes me happier than i have ever been, i’m sorry that this hurts you.”

“you want to stay with her?” you asked shocked, those words had cut deep.

“yes, and—”

a shrill sound pierced the air. lights flashed in the direction you two had come from.

“piper!” jason rushed in that direction without even glancing back at you.

that single word alone was enough to completely shatter your heart.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ reblogs are really appreciated!

[aspecbuddie]

Hii :D

No pressure writing prompt,

From this list about seeking out physical affection : acting like they're cold to have an excuse to cuddle or share clothes or blankets

Hey!!! Thanks for the prompt!! 💚💚💚 I thought I was going to not do this after a couple false starts and then ended up writing nearly 1k for it xD

“Hey can I uh… can I steal a hoodie from you for the evening?” Buck asks, after a minute of rummaging through his bag. “I must have left mine in my locker.”

“Sure,” Eddie replies, not taking his eyes off the movie. “If there’s not one in my room there should be one in the dryer.”

He doesn’t blame Buck for being forgetful at the end of that shift. It had been a truly awful one – one of those shifts that ends with everyone calling their shrinks to see if they can get an emergency appointment. Eddie already had an appointment with Frank booked for the next day, so he waited patiently for Buck to finish sorting his own out before inviting him back to the house for a movie night with Chris.

Although Chris had only spent the duration of a single movie with them tonight before excusing himself to his room under the guise of having homework to complete. The likelihood of him actually doing homework is low, but tonight Eddie doesn’t have it in him to care. His kid is safe and happy and alive under his roof, who cares if he’s doing his homework or playing video games. Some kids can’t do either anymore.

Buck returns a few minutes later, wearing Eddie’s old, tatty, LAFD hoodie and clutching two fresh beers, one of which gets placed on the coffee table in front of Eddie.

They settle back into quietly watching the movie, and Eddie at least is trying to avoid letting his thoughts stray back to the last twelve hours. It’s about an hour and a half later that he cannot stay sat any longer without thinking about it, so he stands up and starts to head towards the kitchen.

He turns to Buck, about to ask if he wants anything while he’s up, but his best friend’s appearance stops the words in their tracks.

Buck is sat the other end of the couch, where he’s been all night, with his feet up and knees pulled loosely to his chest, the sleeves of Eddie’s hoodie pulled over his hands where they’re hugging his legs. His face is flushed, and there’s something that looks like a tear running down towards his chin. Except, as Eddie studies him for a few seconds longer and notices another one on Buck's forehead, he realises it must actually be sweat.

Out of habit, maybe, Eddie reaches out and feels Buck’s forehead with the back of his hand.

Buck swats his hand away. “Dude what the fuck?”

“Take the hoodie off, Buck. You’re boiling hot, man, you feel like you have a fever. D’ya want me to get the medicine from the cabinet or… uh… I can—”

“Eddie it’s not a fever. I’ll… I’ll take the hoodie off, okay?” Buck swings his legs back over onto the floor and pulls the hoodie over his head, before handing it to Eddie. “Happy?”

Eddie just stares at Buck. “Why did you even put it on? There’s no way you could have been cold when you asked for it.”

“I uh…” Buck rubs his neck sheepishly. “I feel like shit after that shift a-and uh… I knew it would smell like… like this house and… and like you. And… I don’t know it’s just… it’s… it’s…”

“Comforting?” Eddie suggests.

Buck nods.

There’s something about this new piece of knowledge – about knowing that his house and his presence is comforting to his best friend – that eases a small bit of his own post-shift heartache. He wonders if Buck has ever had someone to borrow clothes from before, because Eddie hasn’t. Shannon and Ana had borrowed his clothes during their respective relationships, but Eddie had never been able to do the same – nothing  of theirs would have fit him.

He's strangely glad he can do this for Buck,, although it’s not ideal that Buck is literally overheating just to get a small amount of comfort.

“I’ll be right back,” he says, leaving the room with a hoodie and returning a minute later, handing Buck the new item in his hand. Buck looks up at him with a questioning glance. “The hoodie was too hot so, uh, I thought one of my t-shirts might work better.”

The look of awe on Buck’s face is overwhelming. Instead of saying anything, he stands up and pulls off the t-shirt he’s already wearing – which is sweat-soaked in places. Eddie feels a surprising need to look away for the couple seconds that Buck is shirtless; he’s not sure why, they change in front of each other all the time.

When he looks back, Buck is wearing one of Eddie’s slightly less worn black tees. Buck opens and closes his mouth a few times, but doesn’t say anything. Eddie can’t think of anything to say either, so he does the only thing he can think of, and pulls Buck in for a hug.

It’s strange, for Buck to have the scent of Eddie’s laundry detergent mixed with his shower gel from the station. But strange in a good way, and while the hug is short, it further eases the cloud in Eddie’s head.

The movie is still playing, and when Buck sits back down on the couch, Eddie sits closer to him, only an inch of space between their bodies. When Buck shuffles across and closes that space, Eddie reaches an arm across the back of the couch and rests his hand on Buck’s shoulder, pulling Buck gently closer against him.

“Just ask next time,” he whispers. “Or don’t. If it makes you feel better just… just take the clothes, Buck.”

[inlovewithpandora]

Hey love💕 I was wondering if you could write a oneshot where neteyam finds out reader harms herself?

Thank for this request anon💗! I hope it meets your expectations!

If anyone has any requests leave them in my asks!

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Navigation || Taglist

Part 1 (here) || Part 2 || Part 3

This story was inspired by the song above^

- I'm tired -

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem! Omatikaya gf! reader

Both characters are 19!

Warnings: self harm ( very descriptive) suicide ideation, attempt, extreme angst, slight physical/ emotional abuse

If your not comfortable with this type of writing please click off

Word count: 1,645

You and Neteyam just recently started dating a few weeks ago. The first time you saw him it made a feeling that was foreign to you course through your veins. When you meet him and got to know him he made you feel an emotion you've never felt before, Happiness.

Every time he came by your pod to whisk you away to somewhere special in the forest you felt nothing but pure bliss.

But when you weren't around you him you felt melancholic, lonely, depressed, and every other negative feeling under the sun. The environment you lived in was toxic and it was ripping a piece of you away every day.

You were trying to ignore the pain and heartache but it wasn't working. you were trying to find healthy ways to cope like weaving or hunting but it wasn't working. The only thing that would help is cutting, making small slits into your navy blue skin that would release crimson-colored liquid. Watching the blood drip down your arm is the only thing that would help you feel better and would make the pain stop.

You lived at home with your father and he was an alcoholic. When you were born your mother died while giving birth to you and that was the last day your father showed any positive emotion. He abhorred you for taking the love of his life away and he made sure you knew it every single day.

You were sitting in your part of the pod trying to avoid your father's alcoholic rage but you couldn't because he decided to come find you and spew his hatred all over you.

He came and pulled the curtain back which revealed you sitting on your woven mat. As he was towering over your small frame you could smell the alcohol seeping from his pores, "What are doing in here?!"

"N-nothing father I'm just making a necklace for someone", A couple of days ago you and Neteyam were sitting by a pond and he told you how he needed a new necklace because he lost his other one so you decided to make him one.

"Who is it for?! Is it for that boy you've been running around with?!" He yelled which startled you. You hated when he yelled because it always made you cry. Instead of responding you just sat there silently looking down at the floor which told your father he was correct about his assumption.

He let out a dark chuckle before continuing to yell at you, "He is only using you for your body, do you think someone could really like you?! That someone would want to actually mate with you one day?! You have to be the dumbest na'vi around to think that. Look at you, you're pitiful. Always crying and sulking around this house. You're always cutting your arm like some deranged freak! What boy would ever want someone like that?!" He yelled with venom coming out of his mouth with each word that escaped his lips

All you could do is break down into a crying fit. You felt like your father was right, why would someone want to be with someone who felt like their only escape was harming themselves? You felt like whatever you had going on inside of you could rub off on Neteyam and you didn't want to corrupt him with this sickness.

Your father saw drops of water flowing down your face and it only made him angrier, "WHAT ARE YOU CRYING FOR? HUH? THERE IS NO REASON FOR YOU TO BE SHEDDING ANY TEARS! IF ANYTHING I SHOULD BE THE ONE CRYING, YOU TOOK MY MATE FROM ME! EVER SINCE YOU CAME INTO MY LIFE IT HAS BEEN NOTHING BUT HELL!" He shouted at you furiously

He crouched down to your level and harshly grabbed your bicep, yanking you up so you could stand on your feet. He then extended your arm, looking at all the scars that ran down your skin. He began to speak but this time he wasn't yelling, he was calm but you could still hear the maliciousness in his tone.

"I wish you were the one that died that day, not your mother. Next time you decided to cut yourself make sure you finished the job and go live among Eywa. I can't stand to have you living in my house and making me live in despair." He let go of your arm and threw it to your side. He lifted his alcoholic beverage to his lips and began imbibing enormous amounts of it before walking outside the pod.

As you stood there with sobs emerging from your throat you decided that you were tired. You were tired of your father's emotional and sometimes physical abuse, you looked down at your arm and could see a purple outline on your arm from his tight grip.

You were tired of feeling like this, you need the pain and heartache to stop. You needed this feeling of sorrow to go away. You looked around your pod and grabbed your knife and put it in its sheath and grabbed your shawl and wrapped it around your arms and began walking to Neteyam's Family pod.

You wanted to talk to him and tell him how you felt about him before you went to see the Great Mother.

As you walked you heard a group of girls talking about you as you walked by, "Look at her, She looks awful" one of the girls said while laughing

"Yeah I'm surprised she even came out of her pod, she's been locked up in there for almost a week" one of the other girls chimed in

They continued saying all these nasty things about you and it made you feel even worse than before. Neteyam was in the tree above, looking down at the event that was unfolding. He watched you run away to a deeper part of the forest. He immediately climbed down the tree and began to follow you to see if you were okay.

He hasn't seen you in almost a week and he's been worried about you. He came by your pod to try and talk to you but every time he came your father sent him away.

As you were running you didn't know where you going until you found yourself in front of a small pond. You sat down and looked at your reflection in the water, as you looked at yourself you couldn't even recognize the person you saw anymore. It was like you changed into a totally different person. You looked at yourself and felt disgusted, you felt like you looked repulsive. As you looked at your puffy eyes and the dark circles around them you felt so much pain and agony.

You pulled your knife out of its sheath and pressed it again your skin. You knew by doing this it would make you feel so much better, you would finally be at peace. You could finally see your mother and live among your ancestors.

As you were about to penetrate your skin and create a gash so deep that it would bleed out until you took your last breath, you heard someone call out your name.

"Y/N!" Neteyam called out. You turned and saw so many emotions on his face, he looked at you horrified by what he saw you doing to your body.

As you looked at him all you could is cry even harder, "Neteyam please leave"

You didn't want him to see you in this state, you didn't want him to see you so broken.

"Y/N what's wrong? What's going on?" Neteyam asked you as he sat down next to you. As he looked at your arm he saw multiple old scars on your arm and a bruise on your bicep, as you followed his gaze all you could do was apologize to him even though you didn't know why you were doing it.

"I-I’m sorry Neteyam I just can't handle the pain anymore, I'm tired of feeling so miserable. I'm always crying and I'm so weak. Nobody likes me not even my own father, the person who's supposed to love me the most. I feel like I'm going crazy, I feel like I'm a freak" you told him  as you let out sobs in between every few words

"I don't want to live Neteyam. I want to be with Eywa where I can feel peace, I need to feel peace."

As you rambled without properly thinking clearly, Neteyam was horrified by your words. "Baby, why would you say that?" Neteyam asked you as his voice broke a little. He hated hearing you speak about yourself so harshly and it broke his heart to hear that you wanted to end your life

"Because it's true! Every single thing I said was true"

"Y/N you are not a freak, you are beautiful and I love you with every fiber in my body. Whatever is going on with your father I will help you figure it out. I will be there for you and help you through these feelings until they have faded away. I will be here for you always, but you can't leave me. I want you to stay here with me so we can grow old together, Okay?" he talked to you with so much conviction in his voice some tears slowly streamed down his face

"Okay, Neteyam" is all you could muster up and say. You wrapped your arms around his body and clung to him. He embraced you and kissed you on the cheek " These feelings won't last forever, we'll get through this together" As you laid your head on his shoulder for the first time you felt like someone cared about you. As you laid in his embrace you felt a feeling you'd been longing for, something you wanted for a long time.

Love & Peace

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©️inlovewithpandora ━━━ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 | All rights reserved. Do not repost, reupload, translate, modify, or claim my work as your own.

[echobx]

broken heart - a JJ Maybank blurb

summary: JJ breaks your heart

warnings: angst

word count: 464

author's note: I had this line stuck in my head, and I wanted to initially use it in my fic but I can't bc timeline, but I needed to get this out of my mind. also, not proof read, only spell checked.

masterlist

You had never really had anyone but JJ. He was your best friend through and through, there was no doubt in that. Every guy you had ever dated could not measure up to the warm and fuzzy feels that JJ conjured in you.

That's why it hurt so much when you had gotten into another fight with him because he had been too reckless, again. Because he had risked his life without anyone asking him to.

“You can't keep doing that. It's not healthy,” you screamed back at him. That's all it was, a screaming match circling around the fact that you cared more for his life than he did by himself.

“You're not my girlfriend, you don't get to tell me what to do and not,” JJ snapped and it felt like he had stabbed you and kept twisting the knife. Your heart that had been pounding in rage for so long was now still. Every slow heartbeat echoed through your body and you could feel it. The emptiness that was about to be flooded with pain and misery.

“I never said I was,” you whispered, slowly shaking your head and taking a step back. You had never expected your best friend to hurt you in such a way. Had never, not even in your worst nightmares, imagined what it would feel like to get your heart broken. And yet you stood there, arms wrapped around your middle, clawing at the fabric of your shirt and the skin underneath, incapable of keeping up the facade.

“Good, because you're not,” JJ added, still glaring at you in anger. He looked so different like that. There was not a single ounce of sadness or understanding in him, it was pure rage like you had never seen it.

And that's when you felt it truly. When people said that hearts could burst of pain, that they could fall apart in heartache, you had never believed them. But as you stood there and watched him, having his anger wash over you, you felt it all.

It didn't start slow. It was a tidal wave, actually. One crack, then another and another until you could feel your heart contract and stutter trying to keep up with your pain, trying to keep you alive no matter what. Anatomically, your heart was still beating, still pumping blood through your veins. Physically though, it felt like your chest was filled with tiny shards of glass that had once been a part of you. And there was no way for you to tell if you would ever survive this feeling, or if you'd succumb to it completely. But one thing was clear.

JJ Maybank was not the boy you had thought him to be for all the years you had known him.

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

part 2 ig

taglist: @ijustwantttoread

[nattikay]

"Neytiri is such a hypocrite! She hates Spider for being human but Jake is a human too!!!" except that Jake's and Spider's situations and how they relate to Neytiri's are completely different though

Neytiri taught Na'vi culture to Jake personally and was there to watch first-hand as his perspective changed and he gradually fell in love with Pandora and the Omatikaya people. And being able to watch that process, having a level of personal investment in it as his teacher, was a major factor in her falling in love with him in the first place.

Neytiri didn't simply "fall in love with a human", not really. She fell in love with a human who in her eyes became Na'vi, and that part is significant.

I don't think Neytiri really views Jake as a human, not anymore. Though she knew it existed, she never actually saw Jake's human body until the final battle in A1--well after she'd already fully established her relationship with him in his avatar body--and even after that she probably didn't spend much time with him in human form because he permanently transferred to his avatar body shortly thereafter. She's still aware that he was born human of course, but as of the end of A1, despite the eyebrows and extra fingers, Jake is throughly Na'vi as far as Neytiri is concerned, and she watched him get there every step of the way.

She just doesn't have that experience with Spider (at least, not yet--we'll come back to that).

"Well, she SHOULD'VE taught Spider like she taught Jake!! Why didn't she??!"

Why should she?

Remember that she wasn't particularly jazzed about teaching Jake at first either. She didn't volunteer for the position, she only did it because Mo'at explicitly ordered her to. No one's assigned her to teach Spider like that. She's got enough to do during the day with her regular clan duties and raising her own four children; why, exactly, should we expect her to go way out of her way to take enough special interest in Spider, someone whose presence she's kinda iffy about to begin with, to teach him the ins and outs of Na'vi culture like she did for Jake?

"Well, she shouldn't have been iffy with his presence at all!! That's not fair!"

Ok, let's back up a bit. Hear me out before you start yelling.

Neytiri has been through a ridiculous amount of serious traumas in her life, most if not all of which have come at the hands of humans. She witnessed/experienced firsthand:

her sister getting shot and killed.

the Tree of Voices getting bulldozed, an incredible sacred location to her culture where she and other clan members could come to commune with their ancestors, including her now-dead sister.

her ancestral home being brutally destroyed, killing many more of her clanmates in the process.

her father dying in the aftermath of the destruction.

Seze, meant to be a lifelong partnership, getting shot and killed while Neytiri was connected through tsaheylu, meaning she probably experienced not only the heartache of loosing her ikran companion but also the physical pain of the bullet

...yeah, is it really any wonder she feels kinda iffy about humans? And Spider specifically has the added factor of being the son of not just any random human solider but of Quaritch, whom Neytiri had personal beef with.

Now, is it fair to Spider to be judged for the sins of his father and/or species? Of course not. Spider is an innocent party, and has done nothing wrong.

But is it unreasonable, based on everything she's been through, for Neytiri to look at Spider and be reminded of Quaritch etc., and to be uncomfortable with that? Not really, I don't think, and if we could stop demonizing her for it that'd be great.

No, Spider does not "deserve" Neytiri disliking him. But expecting Neytiri to quickly, nigh-magically just get over all of her human-inflicted trauma in order to love or even like Spider right away is a lot.

Key words: right away. Because guys, I think we're forgetting here that these character's stories are not over yet. We're on movie 2 out of 5. That's not even HALFWAY through the story!!

Yes, Neytiri still has issues she needs to work through, areas where she still needs to grow--of COURSE she does, because her story is not over. If she, or the other characters, were already perfect, there would be no story left to tell--or at least, not a very interesting one. Characters need room to grow, otherwise they become boring (isn't that the whole problem with the dreaded "Mary Sue"?)

Same with Spider, his story is not over yet. He and Neytiri still have PLENTY of time to work things out and develop their relationship, among other things, however they need to.

And I do think that their relationship is something that will be explored and resolved by the end. Said resolution might not come until A5, but I think it will come.

Overall I just don't really think it's fair to vilify Neytiri simply because that resolution didn't happen in Spider's childhood--y'know, before the real meat of the story even got started. Have some patience, friends.

tl;dr in a vacuum is Neytiri "in the right" for disliking Spider based on his ancestry? No, of course not. But is she a bad person for struggling to like/trust humans in general after all the very real and very serious traumas she's experienced? Also no. Is it something she needs to work on, sure--but give it time, and let's see how the story develops.

[lace-coffin]

Hi, I hope you're doing well, but can I request a headcanon where Bubba had a bad day and was a little sad and S/O starts giving him kisses and hugs to make him feel better. I like your blog so much!

Thank you so much for your sweet words! I’m glad your enjoying my stuff < 3

Reader comforting Bubba on a bad day

Gn!Reader x Bubba Sawyer

Requests are open!

You can see it in the way her shoulders sag like the weight of the world is being held on them, more out of it than usual and despondent. Even people as upbeat as bubba have bad days.

Unsurprisingly being the main bread (or meat lmao) winner for the family can be a big job, mentally and physically. He knows he’s doing it for his family, they need to eat, it’s not optional with the limited resources they have but..sometimes it’s so hard to disconnect from the people they kill. despite only being meat to the sawyer’s, bubba knows that they’re a loved to someone else, a sister, a mother, a new dad maybe.

They understand the weight of loosing a loved one, the entire family essentially falling apart at the seams when nubbins passed. It makes her sick knowing she’s responsible for the same heartache she’s experienced first hand. But is it truly her fault? Without him providing food his family will starve and he can’t bare to loose anyone else.

On days like these it’s best to keep her distracted, play games with the family if you can convince Drayton to begrudgingly join in. (He’ll do it for bubba but won’t admit it) preparing meals for him is a good idea, she’s unable to even look at the meat knowing the origin of it when she’s feeling like this. Try to make dinner more vegetable based on these days, you can even harvest the vegetables from the garden as an activity to take her mind off it. Don’t let chop help though unless you want to watch him throw dirt at his little sibling. He’ll clear off if you threaten to put an earthworm in his plate lol.

Insist on helping them with the dishes in the evening, dancing stupidly to music on the old crackly radio as you scrub. Thank him for his help and place little kisses on his cheeks, basking in his warmth like you’re the only two people in the world. safe in the sanctuary of the kitchen.

This regularly leads to clumsily slow dancing to unfitting music on whatever station you found first. Neither of you actually know how to slow dance, more just leaning into eachother and waddling side to side but you don’t care enough to learn, just happy to be held.

Eventually it’s time for bed, both of you exhausted, you from doing the brunt of the housework and bubba carrying that post depression exhaustion. Undoing the mask comes next, it’s not an easy feat. Bubba isn’t sure whether she feels more or less herself in the mask, unable to express herself without but bound to one expression in.

Gently pry the mask off and sit in front of the mirror with them, walk them through your favourite parts. Trace the bump of his nose, slightly crooked from a tussle with a victim, never quite healing right. Cup his warm full cheeks and dust them with kisses and praise. Tease your thumb over her plump lips, tell her they remind you of a cherub, sent from heaven just for you.

If you can love bubba than there must be something worth loving about himself, he thinks.

Being the big spoon is a good idea in these moments, let them feel small and protected under you, tracing over their curves and freckles gently, making them whine and shiver. She’ll never completely forgive herself for the things she’s done but it helps that you see beauty in her, the love, the compassion, the emotion. She just wishes she could see those things in herself on hard days.

For now this is enough, the coziness of your body blending into his until it’s unidentifiable where you begin and bubba ends. In some ways it already feels like you’re becoming part of eachother the longer you bond and the deeper you fall. You fall asleep after whispering a hushed “I love you” into their hair and receiving bubba’s sleepy equivalent of the same. Today was tiresome but the sun will rise again over the homestead, bathing the two of you in warm light and readying you for another day in eachother arms.

[starcrossedxwriter]

Unbreakable Part 2 (Erik Killmonger x Black OC

Warnings: none, just some angst featuring your two favorite neighborhood assassins lol

She knew it was wrong but every night, Naja counted down the days until she could leave. However, with only one week behind her and seven more in front, she quickly found that practice more disheartening than helpful. 

She had kept her word to T’Challa thus far, no outward complaints nor did she sequester herself from the family just because he was around. She actually found it fairly easy to simply pretend he was not there. At every meal and family gathering, she talked to everyone but him and he did not speak to her. They just orbited around each other like two planets forcing themselves not to collide. 

Was it childish? Perhaps. But was it the best she could do? Yes. And T’Challa and Nakia seemed grateful for it even if it was a bit awkward for everyone.

She missed the days when Erik was kept securely out of sight and out of mind. He and the memories only resurfaced when she was here, which is why she avoided Wakanda. She knew it was foolish to avoid an entire country because of one man. But when you saw and felt that man in everything, his barking laugh in the wind, his youthful smile in the sunset, his passion in the roaring of the falls; and when the dull but still painful edges of heartache accompanied all those memories… It was difficult to find beauty in it. Erik was wrapped up in so much she loved about Wakanda. And when he left, everything felt tainted. 

When she was not in these borders, she rarely thought of him at all. Her missions, those in need in Nigada, had always been better occupants of her time. Pretending to be someone else meant that she could lay Naja and her feelings about Erik and her life overall at the border until she returned. Of course, that meant that Naja herself had no time or energy to deal with the insecurities, heartaches, and trials life placed upon her. She just did not think of any of it. But she realized now, confronted every day with a pile of her unresolved feelings, that time did not diminish them. It only made it worse. 

She did not think of love either, had yet to find a man worth her time for more than a single night. And she knew she never would. She rarely trusted anyone, occupational hazard, but she could never trust her heart with someone again. At least not in the way she did with him. She had no proof her heart even functioned like that anymore. 

She could not stop herself from stealing glances at him every once in a while, studying the ways in which the time had changed him. And it had and not just physically. Like her, he was a different person. Though it seemed as if the teenager she knew and loved, one full of light and laughter was still in there somewhere, beneath everything else. Every once in a while, he would say or do something that reminded her of the old him and she would have to stop herself from smiling or laughing or reminiscing on the memories it would spark. And then she would remember their last conversation, remember what he truly thought of her and their time together, and that little flame died out immediately.

During the day, she spent most of her time with Nakia, only stepping away for the rest of the day to practice her training. It was her favorite stress reliever and helped clear her mind. After which, she would retreat to her room until dinner to pour over her notes once again, praying a clue or lead would jump out at her. 

The couple that did were dead ends when she relayed them back to Dayo. But she kept trying. She supposed she was grateful that no child had gone missing since she left but she knew that by the time she returned, that would not be the case. Despite being in another country, she still felt responsible and that she needed to do her part to find them. 

“Malika, calm down. We will find them, I promise.” 

“I know, I know. I just wish I was there to help you.” 

She could practically see Dayo shaking his head. “You are caring for your ill sister. That is hardly unimportant. You’ll be back in two months and we will bring all of them home. For the liberation of Niganda.” 

“The liberation of Niganda,” she muttered back before ending the call. She bundled up her notebook and slid it back in her bag before heading down to breakfast. 

She greeted the entire family, excluding Erik before sitting down next to TJ. He all but demanded his aunt sit next to him at every meal. 

“So what do you have planned for the day, Naja?” Nakia asked as Naja filled her plate with food. 

She could already tell she was putting on weight, even in a week. The hard lines of her muscles and body rounded out ever so slightly. She was not complaining though, she looked good. 

She sat her glass down and shrugged. “It is the first day of training for the new year of War Dogs so T’Challa requested I spend some time in the training center, meet them, share my ‘more tamed’ experiences in the field.” 

Shuri chuckled. “His attempts to lure you into staying are not even subtle anymore.” 

Erik’s head jerked up, Naja choosing to ignore it. She could feel his eyes boring into hers as if he was waiting for her answer. 

“Well, his attempts are in vain. I am more than happy to visit and see the other War Dogs but once the baby is here and you two are settled, I need to go home.” 

She threw Erik a glance and watched as the tension seemed to leave his body but not his face. His face still looked angry for some reason that she could not place. 

Shuri groaned, her face twisted up in disgust. “Hearing you refer to Niganda of all places as home is too much to handle.”

“I’m sorry,” Naja offered with a smile as she swiped a piece of fruit off her nephew’s plate, causing the young man to laugh and try to take something off hers. Before she knew it, they were in a play battle with their forks, her prince winning handsomely. “It is a shame my sister can’t join me on the training mat this time around. I miss our sparring sessions,” she winked at her. 

Nakia smiled, patting her belly. “I know. But the closer we are to my due date, the less often T’Challa is ok with me even leaving our quarters. I think he’d have a heart attack if he saw me within 100 feet of the training center.” 

Shuri shook her head. “He’s going crazy. He was always overprotective but he basically wants to wrap her in bubble wrap.” 

“You know I love to rag on the king just like the next girl,” Naja teased. “But you can hardly blame him, missing most of the pregnancy and Prince T’Challa’s birth. It must weigh heavily on him. He has earned the right to bubblewrap you and I’m inclined to agree.” 

Nakia scoffed. “I may have been out of the field for some years now but let’s not forget who taught you everything you know. I may not be able to beat you in combat anymore but I am still the older sister who protects you, not the other way around. 

Naja offered her a soft smile. “My first and fiercest protector. I know. Just trying to return the favor,” she winked at her.  

“I… um… gotta go meet T for meetings. I’ll catch up with y’all later,” Erik mumbled, getting up from the table awkwardly, leaving his breakfast half uneaten. 

It was not odd to anyone in the room. Each of them often were the first to leave the table during meals, only able to sit in the same room with their emotions for so long. Naja merely read it as him not wanting to be around her, which she did not mind. It made avoiding him significantly easier if he was also avoiding her. 

Naja watched as his back retreated before Shuri’s voice caught her ear.

“So you really aren’t ever going to tell me what really happened between you and N’Jadaka? Have you two really not seen or spoken since you were 17?” 

Naja used her fork to stab a piece of fruit on her plate before popping it into her mouth. 

“Nope. Not a single word. Neither of us even knew where the other was since he left Wakanda. I knew of his moniker, Killmonger, but other than that, nothing. I don’t even know if he survived the Blip.” 

“He didn’t,” Shuri supplied. “So I guess it was more like 10 years for him. Still a long time.” 

Naja felt a wave of sadness hit her. He was the sole person she tried to look for during that period. Even with the entire world in shambles, she called in every favor, poured over everything she could get her hands on to find out whether he survived. She never breathed a word of it to anyone, hating herself for even caring what happened to him. But she had never gotten an answer, his whereabouts and life a complete ghost with no discernable trail. So she convinced herself that he survived, that he was somewhere still happy without her. It was easier than thinking of him flaking away as dust in the wind. 

Naja cleared her throat, a sorry attempt to lighten the conversation again. “Well, long time or not, you seem to know every other secret around here, Princess. Am I expected to believe no one has told you that one yet?”  

Shuri shrugged. “What can I say? I am inquisitive. But I was so young when N’Jadaka left. I remember the engagement,” Naja stiffened uncomfortably. “And then he was gone. But even he doesn’t speak of what happened between the two of you. Why you decided to end things?” 

The memories flooded Naja’s mind but she shook them off. She caught eyes with her sister, only holding them for a second before she glanced away. She could not take the pity that floated around in them, as if Nakia would always see her as the emotionally broken girl she found that night. 

“Well, it seems as though you have the full story, Princess. He left and naturally, it only made sense to end the engagement.”

“Yes but that doesn’t ex-” 

Naja stood up abruptly, unable to start her day rehashing how the love of her life abandoned her without a thought.. “My apologies, Princess. I really should be heading to the training. I can give you all the details on Erik and I another time. I shall see you both later.”

She knew it was wrong just to abandon the conversation like that but she had never even really discussed that night with anyone. It did not feel like breakfast conversation as if she were relaying her latest tryst with a one-night stand. 

She hated being in her own head, her own thoughts and feelings. She wished she could be Malika again, a woman who thought of nothing beyond her job at a bar and liberating a country from a tyrant. Those were actionable steps, things she could actually do, problems she could fix, plans and thoughts that consumed every waking moment. Her job was her escape from everything else, from her life. She had been running from Naja and her mess for 15 years. And with the chains T’Challa had placed on her, the bitch was finally catching up.    

Naja took a deep breath as she entered the training center beneath the palace. It was vast, home to both the Dora and War Dogs’ training programs. Her eyes twinkled as she took in the upgrades they had made since she was last there. It was advanced when she attended her first session. But now? The tech, the weapons available to them were truly a sight to see.

“Naja!” Eshe, the leader of the War Dog Initiative, waved her over. “Welcome home.”

They shared a salute as she gestured for Naja to follow her. She glanced over at the young women all practicing with spears. They were focused, moved as one body as if they shared one singular breath. It did not matter how often she saw the Dora train, they were mesmerizing every single time.  

“Why did you not take the Dora route?” Eshe’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts.

“Oh…” she shrugged. “Wanted adventure, wanted to see the world outside our borders, and I wanted to do the thing that would be the hardest. That would challenge me the most.” 

Eshe nodded as they walked to the War Dog portion of the center, the students sitting in neat rows waiting for their session to begin. 

“Don’t let a Dora hear you say such a thing,” Esha warned, causing Naja to laugh. 

“Our General would certainly have an opinion on that,” she admitted. 

Eshe took her around to each of the new recruits, each one introducing themselves individually as they asked Naja questions. She was more than happy to share her experiences, or at least the ones that aligned with the War Dogs’ new purpose. 

Watch and report, she kept having to remind herself as thrilling tales came to mind. She knew those would be far more interesting and entertaining but T’Challa wanted to keep that aspect of the initiative quiet for as long as he could. And that meant that, even within the program, most were not privy to what their fellow spies once did in the field. She was the old guard now, at the ripe age of 32. She had so much she wanted to tell them about the world and the trouble they would see. But then she would have to tell them to ignore it and she could not. Because she was not able to ignore it either, not anymore.

“Perhaps you would like to show them the type of combat skills they will learn during their training?” Eshe tilted her head toward the training mat. 

Naja groaned. “Eshe…” It was not that she could not do it. But Naja did not enjoy being on display, having a group analyze every movement while she trained. 

“Please? Who would like to volunteer to test out their skills with Naja?” 

“Me!” N’Jadaka’s American accent filled the training center, Naja having to force her face to remain neutral. 

This fucking bastard, she thought to herself. 

“Oh Prince N’Jadaka! Bless Bast you were able to join us for our first day of training.” She glanced at Naja. “The prince is the Panther’s Tribe’s liaison with the WDI, all requests from the palace and briefs go through him and Princess Shuri for now. But soon they will transition to him fully.” 

I am going to fuckin’ kill T’Challa. 

“Is that right?” She offered through gritted teeth. “Well, I’d hate to harm a member of our royal family. I suspect I’d be thrown in Fort Hahn for such a crime.” 

Erik grinned slyly. “I can handle it.” 

But first, I’m going to kill him.

Eshe ushered them to the training floor. “No weapons. I want to show the recruits what you can do with just yourselves.” 

They both nodded. She rolled her eyes as he stripped his shirt off, forcing her eyes not to follow the trails of scars across his chest and abdomen, all of them leading to a deep V that poked out of his joggers. She might despise him but she did not have to like him to recognize that he was still the most gorgeous man she had ever seen. She knew it was pure lust and nothing more but it made her uncomfortable. To feel anything toward him that was not indifference and dislike.  

Everyone watched intently as the pair sunk down into their fighting stances. They circled each other, Naja sizing him up. Time outside of Wakanda had done much for his physique. His body was a brute weapon, carved over time and experience. 

And she could practically smell his arrogance from across the room, the arrogance of a man who never lost a fight. Amusement danced in his eyes as he watched her studying him. Because she was not the strongest person in the room, Naja had to attack first and fast. She benefited from her short stature and lean body, years of dance lessons that she hated parlayed well into hand to hand combat.

She took a deep breath, clearing her mind of all else, even thoughts of the man in front of her, before she pounced. That was her strategy. Every person across from her in a fight was the same: her opponent. And her personal feelings, positive or otherwise, did not play a part. 

Erik’s arrogance quickly faded as he took in the ferocity of her attacks, making him question his choice to get into the ring in the first place. He had been trying to find his in all week, a soft spot to just speak to her. But they were rarely in private and she did not even glance his way any time. After hearing her intentions to attend training, he convinced T’Challa that he also needed to be there. He thought, perhaps, if he let her use him as a punching bag at training, it would give them a chance to speak if nothing else. But now he wondered if he would even live to get the chance to speak with her. His lack of consistent training and refined skills showed. And the only thing that made him a match for her was the heart-shaped herb that coursed through his veins. Otherwise? She would have had him on his ass in no time. 

Naja ignored the ache in her limbs as they both threw blow after blow. Moves and countermoves back and forth across the mat. 

A hard push sent Naja tumbling to the ground, the young woman immediately able to catch her footing and bounce back to her feet. She chuckled as she approached him again, faking him out with a punch before delivering a swift but powerful kick to his abdomen, the man also falling down. 

“I see someone got some Bast-ordained enhancements. It’s a shame we both know you would not win in a fight without them. Not so weak now, am I?” 

Her chest heaved slightly, the young woman slightly out of breath but that did not deter her. She would win, her pride would not allow anything else. 

He chose to ignore her last statement, his own voice from their last conversation ringing the shame bell loudly in his ears. Around her, it was deafening. “You know I can take you with or without ‘em.”

“You sure about that? Our King would’ve had me on my ass minutes ago. I guess all those blessed by Bast are not… created equal.”

He let out a vicious growl before pouncing again. Their skillful movements were more like a piece of art than combat, everyone mesmerized by their dance as they responded to each other as if they shared one mind. Everyone, including the Dora, stopped to watch them. One could have heard a pin drop in that room, only their grunts and the sounds of their blows filling the room. 

Erik found it hard to keep up with her the longer they went. He did not even recognize her now, not really. On that mat, he saw everything T’Challa had warned him about. The woman he knew was still in there, he had seen glimpses when they were around the family. The soft, caring, and gentle girl he loved beyond reason. But the woman who battled him as if he were a sworn enemy? She was lethal, she was unforgiving, and she would not stop until he was on the ground begging for mercy. 

And a moment of weakness on his part would give her her moment to shine and remind everyone why she was Wakanda’s fiercest warrior. His mind was not fully on the battle at hand as he examined her for the first time. Even in just a week, her body had started to fill out a bit compared to when she arrived. It looked good on her. She still had the same body shape as he remembered, her hips a bit fuller as she grew older. But she was still as beautiful as he remembered, perhaps even more so. In the heat of the battle, she had shed her tank top, fighting in only a matching sports bra and leggings set, that showed off her hourglass shape. 

He could not help but study her smooth skin, it was flawless. Well, all except for one scar that caught his attention. He could only see half of it, part of it poking out of her leggings on her left side. He imagined it covered the entire length of her torso. In his curiosity and concern of how she got it, he gave her an opening for a punch and kick combination that knocked the wind out of him and sent him flailing to the floor. 

One minute, his eyes were trying to memorize her form and the next, he was seeing stars against the ceiling. Naja straddled his hips, her forearm pressing into his neck with slight pressure.

Her long braids shielded both of their faces from the crowd as they laid on the mat for a moment. Both of their chests rose and fell quickly, their heavy labored breaths loud against the silence. His hands moved to her hips, anchoring her against him even as her arm partially crushed his windpipe. 

It was the first time Naja had made eye contact with him, expecting to find nothing there for her. But instead, she saw a look of adoration, pride, and love. A look that sparked something in her that had been long buried, something that thawed the frigid ice surrounding her heart and soul, even if just a bit. It was warm and comforting, like hot tea when you’re sick, and her soul begged her to bask in it. She allowed herself to feel so little, it was a necessity for her survival. But her heart begged her to linger in this feeling, to remember how it felt to have someone look at her like he was right now. However, the moment was fleeting. Her brain could not stand it, quickly reminding her who he was, convincing her she and what she saw were wrong. 

You don’t know him. You never really did, a bitter voice reminded her, the voice snapping her out of that trance and reminded her that she hated him.

“Yield,” she muttered, increasing the pressure on his neck. Her eyes remained on his, though the glare she usually had returned with a vengeance.  

She only released him when she heard the three distinct pats against the mat and his voice call out, “Damn, aight. I yield.”

She removed her arm and sat up. Neither of them moved immediately, both of them paralyzed on the floor as they stared at each other, his grip tightening on her hips. It was not painful but it reminded Naja that he was there, his touch strong but still gentle in a way she remembered from their youth. Her brain immediately began to wander down dangerous pathways, ones that she knew would lead her nowhere good. That ironclad facade she held to so tightly? It was now splintering, hairline fractures stemming out like a web from one single blow. 

She immediately shimmed out of his grasp, overwhelmed by how uncomfortable the last 2 minutes had made her. 

It seems their moment was lost on everyone else as thunderous applause filled the center. She merely smiled and thanked Eshe as she quickly put her shirt back on. She made quick work of her goodbyes after vowing to return the next day for a lesson, desperate to put as much distance between her and Erik as quickly as possible.

What the fuck was that? She thought to herself as she rushed down the hall to return to her quarters.

She knew what that feeling was. It was not hatred, it was not lust, it was not indifference. It was something much worse… longing. It had felt so foreign and odd that it scared her. A feeling she had not felt in 15 years, a feeling she had sworn off with all other notions of love. But she had felt it, even if it was just a short burst for a mere moment. And she felt it for him. In that moment, she found herself wanting to give into that feeling. She longed for, not just him, but the things he once provided: love, comfort, safety. It was not until she was in his arms again, even in a fight, that she realized how desperately her soul had missed receiving those things from someone. 

She shook her head quietly to herself. You can’t do it, that bitter voice screamed at her, drowning out every other positive feeling with a tsunami of rage and pain. You’d be the weak idiot everyone thought you were if you ever give into that again, ever let him or anyone else break you again. You don’t need him or anyone else, it reminded her. Love is nothing but heartache and misery. 

It hurt but she knew that voice was right. That was how she survived this long. 

“Naja! Yo! Wait up!” 

She tried to keep walking and ignoring his voice but her short legs were no match for the heart-shaped herb. She reminded herself to ask T’Challa how his cousin even came to take the herb, a shocking turn of events she had not been expecting. She was not surprised, but fairly annoyed, to find him standing in front of her blocking her way moments later. 

“Good fight. Where’d you learn all that shit?” 

“Training.” She offered him nothing else before trying to turn and continue down the hallway.  

“Hold up, hold up. Just give me 2 minutes, aight?” He asked. 

As much as she wanted to deny him even that courtesy, she found herself wanting to hear what he had to say. 

“One.” 

She watched as he rolled his eyes and sucked his teeth for a brief moment before he recovered. 

“I just… we ain’t talked since you got back and I wanna clear the air. Make sure we good? Since we both gonna be around for a while, we should be cool, at least. I’m sorry, you know… for what happened between us. It wasn’t my- ” 

Naja shook her head, raising a hand to stop him. She should’ve followed her initial instinct because she could not listen to this. And then she felt it. Those fissures may have let in a bit of light, a positive feeling that she had suppressed for years. But it also let in the ache she had built the facade to keep out. She could not have one without the other so she decided long ago to feel neither.

“Stop. I do not want your apology nor do I need it. We both know you aren’t actually sorry.” 

He scoffed. “How you know that? You don’t me.”

“The sad thing is I do know you. And you don’t say shit you don’t mean. So you might be sorry but it is to ease your own guilt and shame, not because you actually think you did something wrong. Because if you did,” she raised her voice as he tried to interrupt. “You would’ve found a way to apologize before 15 years passed. And don’t act as if you and T’Challa did not keep in contact during those years. It insults both of us. If you were truly sorry, all this time wouldn’t have passed before you decided to do something about it. This,” she gestured at him. “Is merely a sad and unnecessary attempt to assuage your own guilt so you don’t have to feel like the villain anymore.”

She closed the space between them and looked up at him. “And I do not care how many good deeds you perform in service of Wakanda. In our story,” she pointed between the two of them. “You’ll always be the villain. And I’m not required to forgive you simply because you’re tired of living with what you did.”

He bowed his head. He did not argue or fight back, even though his pride made him want to. Her words, her anger, were justified even all these years later and he knew this was his punishment for taking the coward’s way out back then.

“I broke your heart, I know that shit. And I fuckin’ hate myself for it. But if you just let me explain w-” 

She let out a mirthless laugh. “You didn’t just…” she took a deep breath to steady herself. She hated how he still had this effect on her, how angry she still was after all this time. “You didn’t just break my heart, Erik. Y-You… took pleasure in toying with it before you crushed it. But hey,” she shrugged. “I get it. I made it easy for you. I’m weak, right? A pathetic liability that was forced on you? A hindrance to your goals and plans… Seems like you did well for yourself without the weight of a weak, unloveable thing like me holding you back.” 

He flinched at the venom in her tone and the words she chose: weak, pathetic, unloveable. They were words designed to deliver the sharpest of blows. But they weren’t her words. They were his own, daggers he had thrown once because he knew they would cut the deepest. He had not meant them and he regretted them the moment they left his lips. And her reaction in that moment still haunted him. But there was no way for Naja to ever know that. 

“The shit I said was inexcusable… I know that. But -” 

“And yet here you stand… full of excuses. My life would be better served if I never had to see you again. But since our King does not see it fit to allow that, I will only say this one time to you. If all you can offer me is excuses for what you did, we need not speak again. You did what you did, you said what you said. We can coexist in this palace for my sister and T’Challa’s sake but I will sooner join our ancestors and Bast in the fucking Ancestral Plane before I ever forgive you for it.” She started to walk away but stopped turning back to him.. “Oh and don’t think I didn’t know what that little game was. Your shallow attempt to break the ice? Didn’t even make a dent.” She knew that part was not true but he did not need to know that. “Learn to live with your guilt as I’ve learned to live with the pain you caused. And perhaps, I can get through the next seven Bast-forsaken weeks without wanting to stab you as I do right now.” 

This time, she was truly finished, turning away from him and walking down the hallway to the elevator that would take her back to the main portion of the palace. 

However, as the doors slid open, his voice called out behind her. 

“What did you do with it?”

She clenched her eyes shut. She knew exactly what he was talking about. She stepped into the elevator, holding the door so it would not close. 

“The night before my first mission, I went to our spot on Warrior Falls and I threw it off. And I walked away from you and that life forever. Any more questions?” Hurt flashed across his face but he covered it quickly. At his silence, she nodded. “Good. Goodbye, Erik.” 

***

“These are amazing, Shuri. Thank you.” Naja’s finger ran over the sharp blade of a set of four knives, her eyes drinking in all the new gadgets Shuri showed her. 

When she saw the message to meet Shuri at her lab at 3 am, she knew she was in for a real treat. And the young scientist did not disappoint. 

“Figured you'd like them. They’re yours to test in the field. Just… keep it to yourself.” 

Naja’s face lit up with a sly smile.. “Ah so these are not standard issue for all us leashed war dogs?” 

Shuri did not look up from her computer as she responded. “My brother is the only gullible idiot here who believes you are merely watching and reporting. If you’re gonna break the rules, which I wholly support, you should be safe while you do it.”. 

She walked around and kissed the young woman on the forehead. “You know you’re my favorite one here, yes?” 

“I’m everyone’s favorite,” she muttered nonchalantly. 

Naja did not argue with her, she was not wrong. She gestured toward a few mannequins across the room. “May I?” 

“Of course. It’ll be good to see them in the hands of someone actually skilled. I almost took my assistant’s eye out last week.” 

At that, Shuri finally stopped working to watch Naja. She picked up two of them and twirled them in her hands, getting a feel for them and their weight for a moment. They were perfect as if Shuri had created them with her hands in mind. 

With perfect precision, she hurled each one across the room at rapid fire, Shuri not even noticing her pick up the other ones before they were lodged directly in the heart of each mannequin.

“I see why Nakia said you prefer a knife,” Shuri muttered, letting out a low whistle. 

Naja laughed. “Guns and knives both are highly effective. But knives are quicker, stealthier, quieter. And in interrogation, more intimidating than a gun could ever be. But it’s a poor marksman who pretends the tool matters at the end of the day. Regardless, I hit my mark every time.”

She plopped down in the seat across from Shuri, continuing to examine the less lethal tech the young woman offered her. Advanced listening devices, updated kimoyo beads, bullet proof clothing, computerized glasses for in the field. They sat in silence for the most part, Shuri only speaking up to offer directions or side notes on each device. However, most were merely upgrades of what Naja already had so she knew her way around most of it. 

“I’m sorry for the other day,” Shuri offered, ending a particularly long stretch of silence. At Naja’s confused expression, she added. “For bugging you about you and N’Jadaka. We just haven’t had a minute alone for me to apologize. I shouldn’t have pushed. T’Challa says I’m too inquisitive sometimes.” 

Naja waved her hand. “Long forgotten, Princess. Your inquisitiveness is why you are our greatest scientist. And my attitude toward him doesn’t necessarily dampen curiosity,” she admitted. “I thought just ignoring him would be easy but even his breathing vexes me,” she muttered. 

“You two were in love?” 

Naja bowed her head, her restless energy forcing her to walk over to pull the knives out of the foam statues across the room. Her mind recalled her friendship and relationship with Erik, one that took up all the formative years of her youth. She had not been able to stop thinking about him since the training center, her emotions far more complex and jumbled than the first time she saw him. At first, all she felt was rage at being blindsided. But being back here in such close proximity to him made her feel so much more, all the good and all the bad. But that voice in her head still yelled above them all. Anytime she lingered in the good memories for more than a moment, it reared its ugly head, reminding her that those moments were a fantasy and a lie.

Though she loathed talking about her feelings, about as much as she loathed acknowledging her feelings at all, she wondered if Shuri was the only person in the entire palace she could actually talk to without judgment. T’Challa and her sister would merely offer her pity and sympathy, which she did not want. Okoye would offer her nothing except a reminder to get over herself, which would not be unfair, but she also did not need. Her parents… well, that was a foolish notion to even consider. But Shuri, she was the only one who did not remember the broken Naja, the person she tried to erase from all their minds. And perhaps that meant, she was the only person Naja was safe to peel back the curtain with even just a little, the only person for whom vulnerability would not confirm Naja’s weakness. 

“Well… I thought we were,” she admitted. “I mean we were 17 so love is an odd concept for that age, I suppose. But yea, for all I believed and still believe love to be, I thought we had it.” She spun one of the blades in her hand as she walked back to Shuri’s desk. “He did not agree. Rather foolish now that I think about it. Girl loves the boy and the boy does not love her back. Tale as old as time. Not even an original one, I’m afraid.” 

“But you two were close before you dated?” 

Naja chuckled. “Yea we were… I was the forgotten younger sibling. You know I adore my sister but when we were young… She was the eldest, heir to the River Tribe, and she had caught the eye of the future king. My parents knew, at worst, she would be on the tribal council one day and, at best, she would be Queen of Wakanda. Nakia was the Sun and I was Pluto or one of Jupiter’s moons floating in her solar system. Insignificant. She never made me feel that way but my parents took every opportunity to remind me that I wasn’t as talented or strong as she was, that I couldn’t do the things Nakia could. ‘A beauty to gaze upon,’ my father used to always say. ‘And nothing more.’” She sighed. “When Erik moved here, we were like 12. He was the only outsider and didn’t quite fit in so he was always running after T’Challa. I was always running after Nakia. One day we realized that we had more fun running after each other.”

Naja smiled, picking up one of the sonic guns Shuri showed her. She shot a few rounds into the target before turning back to her. “You know we used to sneak to the Falls and find caves? We did it for the last couple years. Became a competition on who could find the best ones with the best view of the sunset. I won in the end, I suppose. The last one I found, the night of our graduation, gave a perfect look at all of Bast’s glory.” Her eyes stared off into the distance for a moment as if she were back in that perfect moment. “But we’d just sit in those caves or by the river for hours and hours and listen to the falls and talk. About our parents, about the future. The adventures we wanted to have and the places we wanted to go. He’s the one that inspired me to be a War Dog, we were gonna join together after graduation. We even submitted the application together in our final year of school. He was the first person, outside of Nakia, to make me feel like I was worth something more. That I could do more than serve as Nakia’s right hand and marry the son of the merchant leader or whatever second-best option my parents had designed for me. And he proposed in that last cave I found… a month before training was to start.” 

“That sounds beautiful. And then he just left?”

Naja nodded, the happy memory that was floating around her eyes immediately souring. “Yep. Three days later? He called me, ended things, and was on a plane out of Wakanda an hour later. No phone, no way to contact him, and a vow that he’d never come back.” 

“And you never found out why?” 

“Why he left?” She shook her head. “Nope. You’d have to ask him. Or T’Challa. I tried to press T’Challa for it but he would never say. And eventually, the reason stopped mattering. Our time together, the promises we made, they meant nothing to him. So I just decided it would be the great mystery of my life and another person to add to the list of people who believe I’m not good enough… worthy enough...” 

“Is that why you prefer to be in Niganda as Malika?” 

Naja laughed, her head tilting as her eyes found her reflection in the pristine metal of the blade in her hand. “Well there’s not much joy in being me. But Malika… she has a purpose, people need her… Wakanda needs her. She’s the best version of me. The only version of me that is worth being.” She stopped herself, realizing she was being far more vulnerable than she intended, more vulnerable than she had been in as many years. She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, my princess. I didn’t mean to drown on and on about my issues. You wanted to know what happened and that’s it. Not that interesting of a story. I should head to bed. They are inducing Nakia tomorrow, will be a long and exciting day for us all. You’ll be ok in here by yourself?” 

“Of course. And yea, Ayo’s on shift tonight. But before you go, I don’t mean to speak out of turn and you can tell me to shut up if you want but I see the way N’Jadaka looks at you, Naja. And the way you look at him. That is not nothing.” 

“I wish that were true. Then my memories would feel more like memories and not like fantasies I was too foolish to realize weren’t real.” 

With that, she turned to leave. When she made it back to the palace, she returned to her room and slid into bed. She groaned loudly, frustrated at her emotions. They felt like an avalanche barreling down on her and she did not want it. She had let a weakness she thought was long buried show tonight, let her guard down when she should not have. A week and some change in his presence and she was already turning back into that pathetic girl again, so weak and emotional and soft. And all it had taken was one conversation and a couple stray looks down the dining room table. 

You’re pathetic… were back then and still are. Some things never change. 

But she had changed. She stared up at the ceiling, closing her eyes and breathing deeply. She tried to force him out of her mind, tried to feel rage… at least that felt good. But even that was hard to conjure up. She just felt lost. 

She reached into her side table and pulled out her notebook and grabbed her phone. 

She hit the callback button, waiting patiently until she heard Dayo’s voice on the phone. 

“No new news yet, Malika.” 

She nodded. “I know, I know. But I thought we could go over the evidence one more time? Figured you were just sitting in the back, tonight’s always a slow night anyway.” 

She could almost hear his smile through the phone. “You really never rest, do you?” 

Naja scoffed. “Not when there’s work to be done.” 

Dayo’s deep laugh filled her ears before he nodded, going over the latest details with her again. 

She took meticulous notes, every brain cell devoted to his words and this task. If she could not avoid the avalanche of feelings barreling toward herself, Naja could press pause on it to escape behind a wall that even Erik could not breach. Even if it could only last a few hours, she could retreat to Malika whose life was an entire lie but still somehow easier to deal with than her own.  

***

Naja worked on her footwork as she moved across the mat alone. She was not surprised to find no one willing to practice with her when she took a break from sitting with Nakia to train. Labor was moving slowly and Nakia was asleep, which meant everyone could go off and do what they needed to do until she woke up again. 

She had returned to the training center several times, sparring with the new War Dogs as practice. However, after accidentally injuring one of them, most were not willing to risk bodily harm to get on the mat with her. In her defense, the woman had asked her to push her but Naja did not realize she had pushed a bit too far. Thankfully, her injury was fixed within minutes. Now they all still enjoyed watching and taking pointers from Naja but no one volunteered to fight her. 

She had been working for a while, only stopping to check her beads for an alert from T’Challa to return to their quarters. However, her concentration was quickly broken by Erik standing on the mat watching her. 

She glanced down at her beads, figuring T’Challa had sent for her, though she did not appreciate the messenger. “Is it time?” 

“Nah, no change. Docs said it could be a couple more hours.” 

“Ok so why are you here?” She knew her tone was rude but she could not hope to care. 

“Heard you scared all the puppies,” he remarked. His hands waved down at his workout clothes. “Figured you needed a sparring partner.” 

All she could do was scoff. “I’m good. Besides, nothing I said in our last conversation should’ve given the impression I wanted to speak to you again.” 

He chuckled, stepping onto the mat as he kicked off his shoes. “You ain’t gotta speak to me. You were right. Last time was a sorry ass attempt to break the ice. My bad. But that fight was the best training I’ve ever seen. So I figured if we train together, we both get what we want. You get to use me as a punching bag every day, which I figured would make you happy and I get more chances to break that ice between us. Worst case, I’m the only nigga who loses here.”

Naja eyed him, searching for an ulterior motive or some other plan she was missing. But she did not see anything. He did have a point, he was a far better opponent for her than any of the students and it would be nice to use his face as a punching bag. However, she knew it was dangerous waters. However, as much as every fiber in her being wanted to scream no, demand she stay the course of avoidance where he was concerned, she found herself doing the exact opposite. 

“Fine. But just know, you’re gonna lose. I can use you as a punching bag but you can't break the ice if I don't talk to you.” 

He merely smirked and sunk down into his fighting stance. “I think you forgot how much I like a challenge, baby girl.” 

And at the sound of those two words, Naja realized that maintaining her hatred for him would be a far harder challenge for her than breaking the ice would be for him.  

Simply put? She was fucked. 

Tag list: @miyuhpapayuh @pipsqueak-98 @injerafiend @themakingsofdion @lishabaybee @certifiedlesbianbaddie @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @dangerous-history @roguekiki @mysteryuz

***

A/N: Ok so some of the tags aren't working (so sorry friends!) I'm gonna see if I can fix it asap cause that's so annoying! Alright so, I actually LOL'ed that everyone's comments on part 1 were just "well wtf did that nigga do??" hahaha y'all really wanted sis to like get her life together and that made me cackle. But I really wanted to focus on Naja this chapter and how she handles (or rather wholly avoids) her emotions, which is why she is still BIG mad 15 years later lol

So we got some insight this chapter, bits and pieces of the puzzle to answer the "wtf did this nigga do" question, but we have miles to go :)

Drop a comment and let me know what you thought! Thanks for reading!

[cowboyjen68]

Well Jen, it's happened. I fell in head over heels with my straight best friend. This sucks! I feel like as a closeted lesbian I can't gage the distance other girls want with me... I want my friends to touch me, to hug me, but I can't let them because I feel like if they do, then I *am* that bad, cuz I do actually sometimes want it in a less than innocent way, like with my friend. I want to be her friend in an honest and kind way, but I feel bad about having what are essenrially ulterior motives :( she's so bright and funny and smart but I know it won't happen!! How do you navigate space/friendships with straight women, especially when/if you've had crushes on them?

My best friend in high school is straight and we had a very close friendship from 4th grade on. We showered together, slept in the same bed etc but I never had any feelings towards her except friendship. When we were older we talked about my sexuality after I came out to her and she was not at all surprised I am a lesbian. She told me she knew I didn't like boys even if she didn't have a context for me being a homosexual.

I honestly had no more curiousity about her body than I think the average girl does with other girls as they figure out their body and how they fit in with others. She admitted she had fleeting moments wondering if I thought of her "that way" but trusted me and knew I cared about her as a friend and I would not push her boundaries, ever.

This is slightly different for you because you do have feelings. I am going to guess you are fairly young. High school maybe? Even in college it is really normal for young lesbians to have crushes on friends who cannot return the feelings simply because their sexual orientation is straight. The key is to not push boundaries. They likely know you are a lesbian or have a hunch. Women, in general, are relatively astute about the emotions around them. Most straight women are not offended at hugs, affection or physical closeness.

You are likely more worried about it than is warranted. However because you have feelings I know it is over whelming and you are balancing your friendship with being physically attracted to your friend. The first thought is that the more touch you have with her the more attracted you will become but in my experience the more you exolore your friendship the less physically interested you will be with her. Chemistry is part of attraction and if she does not share it your feelings will likely dull.

You are more than likely having fantasies about her and feeling very guilty. I just want you to know those thoughts are normal and healthy and are helping you to process your feelings. They can help you to work through the difference between what is wishful thinking and fantasy and reality.

I have had crushes on straight friends and eventually they give way to friendship, expecially as I met other lesbians and bi women who I actually could have mutual attraction to, even it those relationships were also just friendships. As you meet others who share your stories and experiences you will get better and navigating friendships with women. And it is worth the time and effort. And heartache of crushes that will be unfulfilled.

[stiltonbasket]

Could we see some of Sizhui's point of view on the whole "my dad just got 'gifted' a new concubine and now he has to send me to war" thing? He's so sweet, always, and Im wondering what he's feeling + what he sees watch LWJ and WWX interact.

Wen Sizhui wasn't quite sure what to think when he heard that a new concubine would be coming to the Wei-fu.

In fact, he hadn't known what to think when his father took Yu-shushu and Li-yiniang in as concubines some six months earlier. Diedie had never been married, and he was far too virtuous to put one foot over the threshold of a brothel or take one of his servants as a tongfang; but one morning, Yu-shushu and Aunt Li simply appeared, as if his father had woken up at the advanced age of seven and thirty and decided that he must have both a shu wife and husband at once, if he couldn't have a legitimate spouse.

Sizhui couldn't imagine what to make of it. At first, he believed that his father had actually fallen in love, though it hardly seemed reasonable that Fuqin could fall in love with two people at once when he had entertained no suitors or bridal candidates over the past eighteen years—but Yu Zhenhong behaved as if he was Father's lover, and Wen Sizhui did not learn otherwise until his Qing-ayi announced that Li Shuai was with child.

The sounds of Li Shuai being ill in the night began scarcely eight hours after she arrived at the High General's manor; and Sizhui had been taught enough about the care of ladies in their confinement to understand (once he knew why she was sick so often, and why she didn't seem frightened about it) that her child couldn't possibly belong to his father.

Judging by the haggard look on Yu Zhenhong's face whenever Aunt Li had one of her bad days, it was likely that he didn't belong to Diedie, either.

And then, at the turn of the winter, Hanguang-jun arrived. This made some modicum of sense to Sizhui, because Wen-zongzhu was determined to mete out some form of punishment that would make Yu-shushu miserable without physically harming him: and also because Hanguang-jun was difficult to control, whether he had the use of all four of his limbs or not. Before his hasty removal to the High Genera's manor, it was evident that he would be less of a threat under Fuqin's care than the jailers'—so Wen-zongzhu freed Hanguang-jun from the underground dungeon, and warned him to keep his head down lest he provoke a manhunt for his young nephew, Lan Jingyi.

Now, nearly half a year after Father and Hanguang-jun's wedding, Sizhui finds himself wondering if his stepfather's kindness towards him is due to his love for that nephew, whom Hanguang-jun will likely never see again unless Wen Ruohan manages to capture him.

"Is that what you think?" Hanguang-jun asks, when Sizhui visits his courtyard on the day before his regiment's scheduled departure to Langya. "I understand why, of course: but you and Jingyi are wholly different to me."

Sizhui puts his head to one side like a curious bird. "Why?"

"Because you give me thrice the amount of heartache that he does, if not more," his stepfather says drily. "I never had to fear for my nephew's life until the night I was captured, when I saw your father's men fighting their way towards Jing'er on the battlefield. Before that, he was so well-protected by my brother and Nie-zongzhu that he rarely suffered so much as a nosebleed in my presence. To know that you will be going to war—a child like you—"

His voice stutters.

"Father managed to get permission for me to go as a medic." Sizhui says quickly. "If General Dai agrees with Wen-zongzhu, I can stay behind the front lines and keep away from the fighting altogether."

"En. Good," Hanguang-jun nods.

He turns away and wheels himself towards the chest of drawers on the other side of the room; and once there, he opens the bottom drawer to reveal the sandalwood box Diedie gifted to him that New Year's.

"Come here," he says quietly. "Hold out your arm."

Hanguang-jun reaches into the box and withdraws something long and shining from its depths. At first glance, it seems to be a skein of silken thread: but when Wen Sizhui looks closer, he realizes that the object is a fine lock of his stepfather's hair, braided into a smooth, dark rope and reinforced with eight minute silver clasps.

"What is it?" he asks, as Hanguang-jun pulls him closer and loops the lock of hair thrice about his wrist. "Did my Fuqin..."

"Your father had nothing to do with this," Hanguang-jun replies at once, as if he were afraid of being overheard. "The hair is mine, and I have strengthened it with my spiritual energy, so that it will not break or fray—and the silver clasps were made from the cloud ornament on my mo'e.

"This will keep you from coming to harm at the hand of any soldier trained in the Lan school of cultivation, but it is not infallible. No spiritual blade forged in the Cloud Recesses will be able to touch you while the bracelet is on your wrist, but it will have no effect if you are attacked by a Nie cultivator, or a Lan whose cultivation is too poor for anything but a common sword."

He grasps Sizhui's hands and looks up into his eyes: and suddenly, Sizhui remembers the steady gaze of his late grandmother, who passed away just after Father was last elevated in Wen-zongzhu's service.

"Go to Wei Ying," Hanguang-jun says roughly, nearly five minutes later. "You and he will be parted in the morning, and you have not yet said farewell to your yima and Yu Zhenhong."

Wen Sizhui nods and makes his way to the door. He pauses on the threshold and turns back to look at Hanguang-jun, who is still staring bitterly at the spot of red carpet Sizhui was standing two minutes ago.

"I'll be all right," he says, trying to smile. "After all, yifu—even your Jing'er made it back from Hejian, didn't he?"

At the mention of Lan Jingyi, Hanguang-jun looks positively wretched.

"He had his father with him. I was there, too," he murmurs. "And if that arrow had not touched Wei Ying, you would have never had to ride to war without your father at your side."

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 88 }

serenade + requited.

clive rosfield x fem.reader

warnings: unedited; soft depictions of physical intimacy - minors don't interact.

by choosing to interact with this 18+ content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings.

have you ever felt the pangs of an unrequited love before?

it was something that was soul-crushing; an emotion that filled your heart and soul with heartache as you watched the man you adored with your entire being fall in love with someone else.

despite how jill came to the grand duchy of rosaria to serve as a mere sister and confidant for the rosfield brothers, you couldn't help but feel otherwise. in fact, you yourself have remained by the rosfield brothers side as their friend-

but sadly, your fate was only that of a mere maid for them. you had been with the family since the young age of 8-

and you have loved clive rosfield your entire life.

you recall the day you first met clive as if it had just happened yesterday. it was your first time ever stepping foot in such a grand castle as you hid your face behind your mother's legs. despite your shyness, she continues to usher you into the rosfield firstborn's chambers. as your steps echo across the hallways, you listen to your mother list off the duties you must complete.

"you are to start your day by cleaning young master clive's room, is that understood?"

"yes mother." was all that you were allowed to reply with. at the young age of 5 was when she taught you the ways of serving the rosfield family as their maid. your younger years were filled with strict rules that you had to follow while serving the family, giving you little time to have any freedom to frolic around and play like all the other kids around your age.

"now, make yourself properly known to the firstborn son of the duke."

appearing in front of the wooden door that lead to his quarters, you felt your tiny hands wringing against the fabric of your dress as your mother knocked on the door.

"master clive, i am ushering in my daughter. she will be the one who will serve you from this point on."

as you stand waiting there with bated breath, you heard someone let out a yawn from within the room as a boyish voice calls out to you, "you may enter."

standing stiffly off to the side, your mother opens the door so you may enter and start your duties, leaving you alone in such a grand room filled with riches. never before had you stepped foot into a boy's room, and you were caught of guard by the sheer amount of swords and armor that seemed to shine brightly from beneath the sunlight's rays.

as you were left alone in the young man's chamber, you were suddenly aware of a lanky boy emerging from the silk sheets atop of the grand bed, with his dark hair a mess of tangles and deep blue eyes still cloudy with sleep.

the moment he sees you, you were afraid that he was going to be cruel like all the boys that teased you in the village, calling you names while making fun of your stature or hair.

yet he does none of those cruel actions you half expected him to. instead, he pulls back the silk sheets that cover his form and smiles at you, actually bowing down to you when he tells you, "my name is clive rosfield, firstborn of the duke of rosaria and sworn protector of its kingdom."

you recall trembling just the tiniest bit over the confidence he exuded whilst telling him your own name, feeling as though he were more like a prince than anything else. it was then that you quickly became enamored with his gentle smile, and you knew you that you would truly never be the same at that very moment-

for you have fallen in love with the one who would come to be known as the knight of rosaria.

everything about clive drew you into him. like a moth to a flame, you knew that the warmth clive sent to your heart with each lingering smile was something that adults spoke of in passing-

a passionate love, where you would do anything to make that person happy; to ensure that their smile was always protected; the type of love that was felt only once in a lifetime.

clive was always so sweet with you, allowing you to play with him and his tiny brother each time you were done with your duties for the day. the young boy always trusted you with his deepest secrets and fears, always remaining by your side. sometimes, clive would like to play pretend with you and act as your knight in shining armor whilst he called you his princess. you would run around the rosfield gardens with joshua and his puppy, torgal, in tow, chasing after you with a wide smile on their faces.

those memories end up being your most precious ones; with you falling even deeper in love for clive as his kindness simply served to capture your heart. clive had you truly wrapped around his fingers, with you ready to do just about anything to make him happy.

you recall a night where clive had asked you to help with bathing him. you were both around the age of ten, and he had gotten through some rough bouts of training with the other young knights in training. being in far too much pain to truly wash himself, he asks for your assistance.

and truly, who were you to refuse him, a young girl already irrevocably in love with him?

so despite the rush of blood that was felt warming your cheeks, you agree to help him bathe.

it was evident how much pain clive was in when you tried to help him out of the armor that covers the entirety of his form. once he was completely bare, you could feel your heart ache with the sheer amount of bruises that littered his pale skin. with a few pained groans, clive manages to place himself within the confines of the tub, splashing the lukewarm waters all across the cobblestone floors of the washroom.

knowing of the immense pain he was in, you took great measures in treating him gently during this wash. each time you placed the wet cloth against his cuts to clean away at the dried blood, he would nearly jump back with a choked whimper caught within the confines of his throat.

"are you alright, young master?"

he ends up groaning at the stiff title you gave him, "come on, i told you many times already, just simply call me clive."

you feel a blush begin to spread to your ears. "but i-i don't want to upset your father. such intimacy between master as their servant can't be permitted." you end up reciting the many rules your mother has taught you. despite your pain at the fact that you could never truly be with clive due to such scrutiny, you convinced yourself that you were happy enough so long as you could remain by his side.

he sighs once more, "don't worry about that old fashioned brute known as my father. if he has any problems with you, i know that i can protect you."

his promise makes you smile as you continue gently washing away at his form. "you are too kind to me, clive. and i don't know why."

it's then that he gives you another happy boyish laughter. "isn't it obvious why i'm so soft with you?"

you could only manage to shake your head in response to his question. with yet another sigh, clive turns so that he could face you, giving you a gentle smile before answering,

"it's because you are the most precious person in my life." he lets out a sigh of your name before turning back around in the tub to allow you to wash at his back, "i cannot imagine living a life without you in it."

despite you having such a low status, your days were filled with such happiness. within your young mind, you always thought that as long as you could remain by clive's side, then there would be no need to burden him with your feelings of love. you knew that nothing could come out of your pure feelings for him, hence why you tricked yourself into believing that you could survive simply by loving him from a distance.

yet little did you know that your days of happiness would be numbered.

it happens one late evening. you are now 13 years old and have been serving clive for five years. you are called by the duke, clive and joshua's father, himself, to the main throne room for a task that only you were allowed to carry out. the sky was alight with stars as the moon shone its radiant light within the castle. as you followed the archduke's orders, you were face to face with a young girl appearing just a few years younger than you and clive.

the duke of rosaria offers no explanation, simply telling you to give the young girl a bath in one of the castle's washroom before showing her to her room. never one to disobey, you simply give the duke a bow before gently ushering the girl away.

looking at her closely now, you realized what a soft beauty she was, with silvery hair and matching eyes that seemed to mimic the light of the moon itself. it was then that you first felt the first pangs of envy, knowing that you would never be as beautiful as the maiden that stood next to you, paling in comparison to her natural beauty alone.

while you walk with her, you couldn't help but continue to compare yourself to the lovely girl. she appeared as though she stepped out of a fairytale book, like a princess who was waiting for her prince to take her away as they rode off into the sunset, chasing after their happily ever after.

a soft voice was heard calling out your name, the sensation of him already being so close making you tremble in response. "what's going on? why did father-"

your heart begins its steady pounding against your chest at the mere sound of his voice, but the moment he saw the lovely girl settled by your side, you knew it was all over for you.

clive seemed caught off guard, mesmerized even as he drank in the sight of the mysterious girl. you watch as his mouth open and closes in a gape before a sheepish expression paints over his features. "w-who is this?"

"my name is jill, jill warrick." her prior discomfort seemed to melt away upon seeing clive, and you watch with envy as the young girl held her head up high, allowing the moonlight to bathe her in an ethereal glow. she met with clive's gaze in an unwavering manner, and you felt your heart break at the sight-

she was far too beautiful, so it was clear as to why clive seemed so awestruck at the sight of the girl.

and it was in that moment that you knew all was lost. clive's expression turns soft as he held out a hand for her to take, "you appear exhausted, come, i'll show you to the washroom." giving you a quick glance, he dismisses you, allowing you to return back to your own quarters as he leads her to the washroom. now, you were left alone with your own tumultuous thoughts, filled with nothing but heartache at the sight you had just witnessed.

not even realizing that you were still standing a couple of feet behind them, you watch as clive takes a hold of the girl's hand, feeling your heart become torn in two at the sight. your hands kept clutching at your dress, and you willed your tears to not fall.

there had to be a reason why jill warrick was brought to the rosfield family-

perhaps she was chosen to be clive's companion-

and perhaps his wife the moment they both became of age?

as such dark thoughts filled your mind, you couldn't stop your chest from clenching, filling you with an almost nauseated feeling as you fought to keep your food down.

but the heartbreak of such thoughts became too much for you to bare.

clive taking a hold of of jill's hand had to be some sort of premonition, a sign that you were never destined to be with him to begin with. despite all of your silly daydreams and wishes that once entertained the thought of him ever loving you, you could feel them immediately dash away the moment you witnessed clive and jill together.

time passes by slowly, and you are left to watch jill become even closer to clive with each passing second all while you were in your own little world filled with heartbreak.

clive grew to be more independent, seldom needing you for even the tiniest thing. now that he had jill, it seemed that you were destined to be forgotten in the background of his life. now that jill was around, you were able to witness notable changes in clive. for starters, he laughed more, true blue eyes turning soft while in the presence of the girl who embodied the moon itself. each time he was in close proximity to jill, he would appear so happy, so comfortable and joyous around her.

never before had such euphoric depictions of happiness ever been directed at you, and that fact stung you more than you'd like to admit.

and oh, did it hurt to see clive get so close to another woman, surely feeling the first pangs of love itself each time he remained by her side.

jill simply became lovelier as the years went by. she captivated the rosfield brothers, more so clive than with joshua. and that fact did nothing but put an extra sting to your heart.

despite his distance, you still loved clive.

even now, when the boy you had grown up with the sole purpose of taking care of grew up into a young man now 18 years old, your heart still beat and burned only for him. it was strange how the heart functions. you truly couldn't help who you fell in love with, and you wanted so desperately for clive to look your way once more.

your pained musings is what leads you into the comfort of the gardens behind rosfield castle. now, you only had memories of playing with clive in the very same gardens to comfort you. more often than not, when you would see clive and jill laughing together, or sharing intimate whispers together, you would take refuge within the sanctuary filled with such lovely flowers after your duties were completed.

with a sigh, you brush back your hair and lay back against your favorite tree. you allow the wind to blow and bring with it the sweet and heavenly scent of all the flowers surrounding you. your eyes were shut, allowing you to mindlessly hum a gentle tune as you lost yourself in a daydream.

but it was the sound of a branch breaking that interrupts your reverie, causing you to open your eyes in an instant.

"who goes there?!" you cry out, feeling your voice take on a shrill tone due to your panicked state. you swore, you heard heavy footsteps running away from a mere few feet from you. despite your fear, you still stood up to find the culprit who made such sounds-

but when you went to see who it was, you saw nothing and no one except for a rolled piece of parchment paper that held your name as it was tied and rolled up with a ribbon that shared the same hue as your favorite color.

seeing your name written on the parchment elicits another painful memory from you.

you had been serving clive for a few months when you witness him reading to joshua all the stories contained in the gorgeously crafted book of fairytales. he keeps the novel in his hand all while keeping warm at the fireplace. as you tidied up the library, you couldn't help but feel your eyes wander to each beautiful curve of the printed words seen within such a lovely tome.

clive, who still remained aware of your desires and looks of longing directed towards the novel, was the first to ask if you could read or write. you respond to his question with a shy shake of your head, feeling somewhat ashamed at your lack of education.

but clive held no judgment against you, beckoning you to drop your cleaning rag and to join him on the couch as he gathers some parchment, quills, and jars of dark ink. it was he who taught you the beauty of written words, with young joshua learning along with you. this was another reason why you loved clive with such passion, for it was he who gave you the gift of understanding the written words.

shaking off that memory, you sigh, feeling more than curious as to what this parchment was doing in the midst of your sanctuary. you wondered why it carded your name as you carefully pick it up and examine it, not seeing anything out of the ordinary about the simple cream colored parchment save for the ribbon.

unfurling the note, you cast the ribbon aside as you were met with a letter written in a hurried scrawl. you read the letter slowly in a whisper:

i have loved you since i was a young boy, when i first laid eyes on you and witnessed your smile for the first time.

you are all i ever think about, and i wish i were brave enough to tell you my feelings without hiding behind a shield.

your beauty captivates me, it always has. and you have simply served to grow more lovely as the years go on. i cannot bring myself to face you anymore.

forever yours.

by now, your mind was running, going through your memories as you tried to figure out if you ever caught another boy's eyes while serving the rosfield family.

in all actuality, you could only remember being teased and prodded by the other servants sons, with them constantly picking on you with every opportunity they could get had it not been for clive fighting them off back when you were younger.

but was it possible that their teasings were just a ruse? something they did to hide their true feelings for you?

and were you finally given the chance to move on and be happy with someone who truly wasn't clive, but loved you for solely who you were as a person?

the mere thought of it all sends a surge of hope to course through you, nearly making you forget all about the pain of witness jill and clive together.

with this new love, possibly with someone who shared your class and burdens, you needn't have to worry about any heartbreak-

and your heart could finally be healed from clive.

with your heart now racing with anticipation, you make a made dash back into the castle. you were desperate to know who this sudden admirer was and wanted a chance to write back to him. such words written with such honesty could not have been fabricated, and when the chance for you to find happiness finally arrived, you took it without a second thought.

just who are you? was the single thought that ran through your mind. you kept repeating the words seen in your letter over and over again, allowing each syllable to wrap around your heart as you could feel the pure hope coursing through your veins. in fact, you had become so distracted that you didn't realize you had ran into someone standing just a few feet away.

the feeling of something solid crashing into you takes your very breath away. some pain was felt coursing through your body at the sudden impact, and you could feel your apologies for the stranger you had run in to on the tip of your tongue-

only to be met with clive's startling blue eyes.

the same smile that stole your heart all those years ago paints his ruggedly handsome features, and you immediately became aware of how he held you so carefully in his arms, keeping you from falling back down against the cobblestone floors of the castle.

he had grown up wonderfully, with his once boyish features quickly morphing into that of a man. gone were his round and soft cheeks as they matured gracefully into hard and chiseled angles. a bit of stubble decorates his chin, and you had to keep yourself from falling to your knees at the mere sight of him.

"master c-clive, i'm so terribly sorry, i-"

the rest of your apology was cut short when he takes notice of the piece of parchment held gingerly in your hand. "what is that?"

"oh, nothing, it's nothing really!" you hide the love letter from clive's prying gaze, which only serves to make him frown as he says your name while reaching out to you, attempting to take a hold of your hand that held the letter so tightly.

but you simply rip your hand away from his grasp, preventing him from seeing the letter.

"please, this is none of your concern. why don't you go and be with jill, perhaps she will distract you from any silly concerns pertaining to me."

you refuse to acknowledge the hurt brimming within clive's sapphire gaze. knowing that you were being hurtful on purpose, you walk past him while clutching the letter to your chest, refusing to feel any amount of guilt.

how dare he try to weasel his way back into your life, after dedicating so much time to jill? you knew you could never compare to her and already accepted your fate as simply loving him from a mere distance. and now that you finally got a chance to obtain happiness, he had to come and interrupt your chances?

you simply weren't having it.

the only thing on your mind was writing another letter to your admirer, in hopes of getting to know him better as you finally obtained the happiness you craved for.

entering the quarters for all the servants, your feet quickly take you to your bed where you kept a few pieces of parchment. back when you were younger and clive had taught you how to read and write, you kept the parchment and quills clive had gifted you. a short pang was felt as the soft memories fill you with nostalgia, but you were quick to purge them from the confines of your mind, focusing solely on your admirer.

you wanted to write something just as passionate as the letter, something that would convey your desire to meet this admirer.

a part of you knew that this was possibly an excuse to get over your heartache over clive and jill, but for once in your life, you wanted a chance to be selfish and finally obtain your own happiness.

taking in a deep breath, you smooth out the parchment paper with the quill poised against the sheet before writing:

i cannot tell you how deeply your words have warmed my very heart. i feel as though it has been frozen for so long, and your words have finally awakened something deep within me.

i always held an unrequited love, and it is more evident now that my beloved has fallen into another woman's arms. but i don't want to hinder his happiness any longer.

please tell me who you are, so that i may finally meet you.

your heart truly was feeling like it had come alive once more, and you just hoped that such a miracle won't end in tragedy. you read your letter over and over again, hoping that it was enough to convey your desires whist bringing your loneliness to light.

perhaps it wasn't fair to simply use your admirer as a way to get over clive-

your mind knew it was wrong, but your heart was saying otherwise. you had felt the pangs of unrequited love for too long, and you were tired of feeling sick all the time with the heartache.

you desperately wanted to feel the love of a man who adored you and you alone; who saw no other woman and had dreams of sharing his life with you and you alone. your strong desire for having such an intense love was born from the many times you had witnessed clive being so close to jill.

but it is one memory that struck a chord within the confines of your heart.

you are now 16 again, with your heart becoming heavier at the sight of clive getting closer to jill, the young woman the rosfield patriarch took in to be his sons' main source of comfort and confidant due to the loss of their mother at a young age.

whereas joshua simply saw her as a mere sister, it seemed that clive was beginning to feel pinpricks of a budding romance with the young beauty. there wasn't a single moment that went by where clive wasn't close to jill.

despite how much their closeness greatly hurt you, making a devasating void that could never be filled take residence within your very heart, you did your best to take it in stride and go on with a smile each time you were near them. but there was only so much you could do-

and that all came to a boiling point one fateful night.

there was a sense of loneliness haunting your very being. it was keeping you awake, making you struggle with truly falling asleep as you slowly crept out of the servant's quarters.

knowing you could find peace and solace within the confines of the rosfield gardens, you gently tiptoe your way towards the gorgeous area. already, the sight of the beautiful flowers swaying ever so gently in the wind fills your heart with a tranquility you desperately craved for.

you walk closer to the rose bushes, ready to admire all the different colored blooms when a gentle yet melodious laughter fills the air a few feet away from where you stood. with your lips pursed, you follow the sound of laughter to catch a familiar sight of silver hair in the arms of a young man with dark hair and blue eyes.

it felt as though the entirety of your body was doused in ice cold water. it was harder to breathe, seeing clive holding jill so tenderly in his arms, his handsome features in absolute awe of the young beauty in his arms. it was clear that he was dancing with her, swaying her petite body ever so gently as he spun her body around the garden.

the scene was just like all those lovely romances you read in those books, with the prince holding his princess so tightly in his arms, never daring to let her go as he got lost in her eyes-

"l-like this?" you listen as clive's voice takes on an almost shyer tone, making your heart break even further at how softly he was treating jill.

"goodness clive, has no one ever told you what a horrible dancer you are?" jill ends up laughing at clive, yet still, you could detect the fondness in her voice whilst clive held her in his arms.

ah, so not only was she allowed to refer to him freely by name, but he was truly dancing with her, allowing jill to live out every fantasy you had pertaining to your beloved clive.

with a hand clasped over your mouth to keep your pained cries from interrupting the young lover's dance, you swiftly run away from them, praying that your bare feet didn't make too much noise as you ran back to your room.

the days that followed was filled with nights spent crying yourself to sleep. the image of clive holding jill so gently within his arms kept haunting you over and over again, which further prompted you to hide and distance yourself away from him.

you spent your whole life yearning for him; begging him to spare you a second glance as you willed clive to feel your love for him-

but it was all for naught. after all, jill was simply so perfect that there's no way clive could possibly have romantic interest in you. and truly, you couldn't even blame clive for feeling that way.

which is why you felt so hopeful with this letter and your reply in your hands.

this was your final chance at happiness; a final chance to achieve your dreams of starting a family with the person you loved-

even if that person wasn't clive.

the next day, you kept the letter close to your form. you do your best to put your whole heart and soul into your chores, making sure that everything was in its proper place before smoothing out your letter.

with your duties finished for the day, you eagerly make your way back to the gardens. you went back to the same spot you had seen the letter addressed to you and settle your own letter on the exact spot your admirer had placed his letter for you. despite your strong desire to wait around to see if you could catch a glimpse of him, you knew it was better to give him the privacy he deserved-

at least, until he was brave enough to face you directly.

the newfound anticipation you felt was indescribable. hope truly was like a shot of liquor through your veins, warming you to your very core as you could taste the happiness on the tip of your tongue.

your days were now filled with daydreams of your potential suitor. no longer did you yearn for clive like the way you used to when you were younger.

your confidence as a woman was carefully blossoming, and you found yourself wondering if your admirer received your reply as the day went on. in the midst of you being in the middle of your daydream, you could have sworn you felt a presence swiftly walk behind you, giving you a tap on your shoulder as you faced them-

only to see no one there.

yet when you turn back around, you found yet another rolled piece of parchment paper with the same ribbon attached along with your name written in the familiar scrawl.

your heart kept racing with anticipation, eager to know the words written in reply to your own desires of meeting your admirer.

but your hope ends up falling short:

i'm sorry, despite how much i love and yearn for you, i'm afraid that you'll reject me out of anger.

i'm afraid that you'll be disappointed in me, and i don't want to disappoint you.

i would rather spend the rest of my life loving you from the shadows than reveal myself to you, for i do not wish for your love to turn into anger the moment you realize who i am.

i am a coward. i am unworthy of your affections.

please forgive me.

forever yours.

you sigh, feeling the tiniest bit of disappointment-

yet still, your heart sang upon reading such sweet words. memories of your heartache pertaining to clive began to melt away, still giving you a blinding hope that your admirer would someday be brave enough to come into the light.

never before had such romantic words been directed at you.

never before have you been the recipient of such absolute yearning and adoration.

so far, the letters you received filled you with such giddiness that you found yourself daydreaming just who the author of these letters could be.

during your musing, you couldn't help but think back to clive, a part of you somehow wishing it were him-

but truly, recalling clive and his mannerisms, it just didn't match up. before even meeting jill and having her be the catalyst of your heartbreak, clive was never one to immerse himself in stories of romance and true love.

he loved training, honing his strength with his sword alone while skipping on most of his lessons set by his teacher. you knew clive to be a man that would much rather pick up a sword than a quill, so clearly him being your admirer was out of the question.

in fact, the way your letters were penned seemed more fitting for his younger brother, joshua, than clive. it was more believable for the younger rosfield prince to write such carefully romantic words due to his bookish nature.

however, you were certain that joshua wasn't the culprit. for starters, he was far too young and secondly, his handwriting was far more beautiful and elegant compared to your admirer's hurried yet somewhat neat scrawl.

with a gentle smile, you hold the dear letter close to your chest. if nothing else, then you could find comfort in knowing that you are loved-

even if it wasn't with the man you yearned for your entire life.

while you distracted yourself with reading the new love letter, you were completely unaware of the boy who hid behind one of the castle pillars, silently declaring his love for you over and over again as he prayed for some miracle that someday, you would notice him.

and so, with the letters keeping you company and giving you a new light on life, time goes on.

time is nothing but a way to heal all wounds, and as the days slowly morph into months, bringing with it the changing seasons was when you finally came face to face with your admirer.

lately, it seemed as though he were becoming bolder, leaving not just mere notes for you, but adding trinkets as well. from tiny rings that held your favorite gemstones to tasty treats such as chocolates filled with berries, you were in awe of such lavish gifts.

but just who could your admirer be? and how was it possible that he has hidden himself from you so achingly well?

your desire to meet him still hasn't faded. in fact, in only seemed to increase as time went on, and you were getting desperate to unveil his identity and finally be with him.

but alas, you simply didnt know how to coax him out of his shell; to bring his heart closer to yours when all you desired was him. there just had to be something you could do to finally bring him out of the shadows, but what, you didn't know.

with your head aching with sharp pains from thinking far too much, you decide to take some time for yourself and explore the gardens once more. even if it were late in the night, you had a feeling that sleep just wouldn't find you so easily during this late evening.

with a simple shawl wrapped around your form, you could feel the cool wind against your bare skin, causing you to shiver as goosebumps erupted all across your form. perhaps you should have worn a proper dress after all-

but ultimately, you decided against it, since you were sure no one was awake at this ungodly hour, and you needed the fresh air to help with clearing your mind. with a gentle sigh, you allow yourself the pleasure of being a free woman, naked from beneath the covers of your shawl while surrounded by the beautiful scent and sight of flowers.

you came close to your favorite spot, one that was in the middle of the lilies that grew within the garden when your heart froze upon seeing a dark figure hunched over the pure white blooms you often enjoyed staring at.

the fear was evident in your stance when you stilled completely at the sight of the unknown man who had invaded your sanctuary. your legs were rooted on the spot, and your mind kept racing, begging you to run, to alert the duke- anyone to get the intruder out of the confines of rosfield castle.

finally gathering your courage, you take a step away from the intruder, ready to bolt back into the castle when your back suddenly met with one of the oak trees that surrounded the garden, causing the sounds of leaves rustling to alert the intruder of your presence.

it's then that you watch with wide eyes as the man stood back to his full height, appearing just as shocked as you were as your eyes met with a startling sapphire gaze.

"clive?!"

the sight of the oldest rosfield son was undeniable, with his broad shoulders and sheer height being more than a dead giveaway. he appeared to be in shock by your presence, with him limply holding a bouquet of white lilies within his hands. "whatever are you doing out here so late, and with a bouquet of lilies no less."

he blushes a bit, hiding the flowers from your curious gaze, "i could ask you the same thing."

you huff, feeling the familiar pinpricks of anguish at the thought of him picking those lilies, your favorite flowers, for jill alone. you were about to call him out on his strange behavior, ready to mock him for his love for jill to save yourself some heartache when the sight of something else stops you.

for peaking out from behind clive was a rolled up piece of parchment, the same one you had been receiving from your admirer this entire time. taking advantage of clive's vulnerable and embarrassed state, you surge forward and take the parchment from his hands.

"hey, give that back...!" clive drops the flowers then, reaching out to try and get the letter back from you, but he was too late.

you unfurl it with shaking hands, reading out loud, "you are lovelier than these lilies, and how i wish i could kiss your skin and mar them with my kisses alone."

you gasp, reading the rest of the letter as he made his desires of becoming one with you, his fantasies pertaining to being your lover, intimately clear. with your heart pounding, you hold the letter against your chest. "is this a joke, clive?"

"what? no, absolutely not!"

"then why do you have this letter? are you here to deliver it from my admirer himself?"

slowly, ever so slowly, clive steps closer to you, shaking his head as a soft expression paints his features. "the reason why i have it is because i was the one who wrote it."

"n-no! it cannot be true!" you cry out, refusing to believe that the same man who had tormented you with his open affections for jill had written you these letters, giving you so much hope in such a short period of time.

now, you felt as though clive and jill were simply playing a cruel trick on you. perhaps they wanted to see you hurt and broken beyond compare.

just how cruel could they be?

with a sob, you toss the parchment to the ground, breasts heaving as you ran back into the direction of your quarters-

only to be stopped by a strong grip on your wrist, causing you to fall back into the arms of the same man who still held your heart within the confines of his very hands.

you struggle within his grip, trying to fight back the sensual feeling of having his hands gently holding at your sensitive skin. the chilly air didn't bother you as much anymore, not when clive's body was sufficient enough to ward off any chill.

the way he held you was maddening to your senses, it almost felt as though you were the one he cherished so deeply as he held you in a manner that seemed to shield you from the world.

"please, just listen to what i have to say, my darling."

it was his sweet nickname for you that ends up winning you over, causing you to slump over against his body as clive continues to sweetly whisper within your ear. "it's always been you, my first and darling love, the one who has captivated my heart since i first laid eyes on you when i was merely 8 years old."

"that's impossible, with how close you are to jill."

what you weren't expecting was to hear the sound of his rich chuckle. clive ends up sitting down against the tree, with you settled on his lap as he keeps his arms around you.

"i apologize, for making you jealous, my love. it wasn't my intention."

"wha-"

but you were cut off the moment he leans in to kiss at your burning cheeks, "i see and feel nothing but a brother's love he has for his younger sister with jill. it is you that has captivated me so deeply... jill was...well, she was a shield that helped me hide my emotions for you in front of my father."

his sudden admission makes you stiffen, but clive takes your silence as a chance to finally come clean. "back then, i wasn't strong enough to protect you. if he had known the depths of my love for you, i was certain that he would banish you from the confines of rosfield castle.

i would never be able to see you again, and the thought of you leaving my side pained me so much."

he caresses your body, gently touching at the skin of your collarbone before clearing his throat and closing the slight opening of your shawl. "i knew back then that i adored you, that i would to anything to keep you- but i knew, not only was i unfit to love you, but my father was getting suspicious of my feelings for you."

he lets out a sigh of your name, bringing you closer to his chest as clive kept you protected within his muscular arms.

holding you tightly while breathing in your scent, he continues with his confession, "i wasn't soft with a love for words like joshua. i was a man filled with hard angles who was always afraid of breaking you, my dear love. the years i spent avoiding you, loving you from a distance, was the years i spent growing stronger. i wanted to be with you in every fiber of my being, and i could not let anyone tear you away from me, not even my father."

"despite all the reservations and insecurities i harbored when it came to my desire for your love, i couldn't help but want to try and better myself for you."

"i kept my distance the entire time, growing stronger while jill and joshua taught me how to become a proper gentleman."

a newfound hope was felt filling your veins now as you took this chance to really look at him. facing him, you allow yourself to straddle his waist while framing at his handsome face. "oh clive, do you mean it?"

he lets out another one of his rich chuckles, giving you a simple nod, "yes. in fact, it was jill who taught me to dance, but that didn't go so well since i kept stepping on her poor feet."

it was at that moment the crushing relief was felt coursing through your veins, giving you the courage to surge forward as you captured his lips in a sweet kiss.

and in that very moment, you swore that everything finally fell into place. the same man you were madly in love with was your admirer all along, with him teaching himself the words that would make you fall in love with him all over again. the fact that he wanted the strength to face his father when the day came and he could properly profess his love for you made your life overflow for him, bringing you bliss that you didn't know you could even feel anymore.

"you're such a brutish oaf sometimes, clive." you whisper against his lips the moment you pulled away from the kiss first, earning a low groan from him, "you never needed to change yourself, not when i have loved you since the beginning, clive rosfield."

he says your name in a hoarse whisper, ready to hold you in his arms once more when you end up surprising him.

moving your form slightly away from him, you finally shrug off the shawl that once covered your nakedness from the intensity of his sapphire eyes. you allow the flimsy cloth to fall into the grass, leaving your pliant body bare for him to see.

"to make up for lost time, i want you to take me, clive. show me pleasure that you alone can bring me."

with a hoarse cry of your name, clive wastes no time in fulfilling your wishes, pressing you even closer to him as he gently plays and prods at your aching breasts. as his mouth kept pressing heated kisses against your lips, you couldn't help but sigh against him.

"if you have already learned pleasure from jill herself, i might have to smite you in anger, ahhh." you trail off with a moan the moment he takes your hardened nipples into his hot mouth, gently biting down against your skin as he keeps you still with his large hands alone.

"don't let your envy cloud your judgment, for i do not wish to experience this with anyone else but you."

you were satisfied with his answer, becoming achingly aware of the pain felt between your legs as the moisture kept pooling from between your thighs. yet still, clive continues his ministrations on your body, eagerly licking every inch of skin he saw on your form.

you had ever felt such burning pleasure before, being a virgin in every sense of the word as clive continued his ministrations on your body. his lips were relentless, with his tongue darting out to taste every inch of you. it was as though clive desired nothing more than to devour you, acting like a starving man who was finally presented with all the foods he could ever desire in a silver plate each time he brought your body closer to him.

you gasp, feeling his heaviness weighing down on your soft body as you couldn't stop yourself from delving your fingers into his hair. all you could feel was the sheer amount of warmth he exuded from his body, surrounding you so well that you were quickly becoming drunk off of him.

"you have no idea how happy you've made me, my love, by giving me this chance to worship you like you deserve."

he continues his ministrations on your form, but by now you knew that you were quickly becoming desperate for him. the sudden ache felt between your legs was absolutely maddening, becoming so painful that you couldn't stop yourself from dragging your nails down his biceps in response.

"clive, please...! i need you so badly." you gasp, clinging to him like your life depended on it, wanting for him to take away the ache that was settled within your most intimate part of you.

yet still, clive simply kisses you in response, displaying desire to take things slow when he tells you, "have patience, my love."

lifting himself off of you, clive takes off his clothes, leaving him in his pants alone before coming back down to fully kiss you once more.

feeling drunk off the scent of flowers and the way clive held you so tightly against his chest, as if fearing that you would disappear if he let you go for even a second, you allow yourself to drown in his love.

he truly didn't want to leave any part of you untouched, with his mouth carefully exploring the curve of your body with such precision that it takes your very breath away. his mouth lovingly nips and prods at your sensitive skin, with his fingertips trailing all across your body, eliciting such wanton moans from your parted lips that you prayed no one had heard you.

once clive was satisfied with kissing and marking your skin with gentle bites was when he whispers to you, "it's time for me to do what i have always craved. just relax, my love, and let me have a taste of you."

his large hands gently pin your form down against the grass, giving your sensitive skin teasing pinches here and there before settling himself between your legs. he purposely spreads out your thighs, making room for him to take residence between them as he takes in the scent of your aching flower. he spends some time admiring the moisture that seems to coat your core, collecting the evidence of your arousal with the tip of his fingers.

teasing you now, you could feel the way clive dips his thick finger inside of your gummy walls, the sensation enough to cause your back to arch in response. not wanting you to move, clive continues to hold you down with his free hand. seemingly unsatisfied with the distance between his face and the pretty flower between your legs, clive uses his strength to bring your sex even closer to him, earning a surprised squeal from you when you felt the coarseness of his beard against your softness.

it was an absolutely sinful sensation, feeling his beard and mouth lightly scrape at your silky walls. he groans upon breathing in your scent, "dear gods you smell so sweet, far sweeter than all of the flowers in this garden, nay, the world combined...!"

"oh clive, p-please, i need you..ah!"

the moment you felt his hot mouth engulf the entirety of your sex was the moment you knew you were done for. all you could feel was the red hot pleasure coursing through your very veins as you kept crying out to him. with your hands pressed against his dark hair, you kept moving your hips against his sinful mouth with fervor. he groans against your sex, sending pleasurable vibrations to your core before inserting his thick middle finger within your aching core. ready for him to bring you to completion with a shout of his name, you felt your thighs instinctively tighten around his head as you gave him your first release of the night. you could feel your honey sweet arousal flowing out of you and into clive's awaiting mouth, earning a guttural groan from him as he drank up all you had to offer.

you were seeing stars now, only dimly aware of the way clive moves away from you momentarily, shedding the last bit of his clothes before rejoining you.

with his broad chest pressed against your breasts, he resumes kissing you all while spreading your legs to properly settle himself against them. it was at that moment you felt something prominently large poking you, filling your veins with a wave of desire.

"clive." you moan when you felt the tip of his erection prod against your slickness, collecting the evidence of your prior release as clive struggled to keep his breathing even.

"dear gods, you feel so good. i haven't even fully sheathed myself inside of you and already i feel like i am about to go insane...!"

you felt a sense of feminine pride coursing through you when you manage to rub your core against him, causing him to groan in response.

"then let's go insane together, my darling knight."

that was all the urging clive needed to fully push himself into your wet and gummy walls.

the sensation of being filled so perfectly makes you toss your head back in response, and it was so quick and painless that you were unaware of the small drip of blood that came from clive breaking through your virginity with the proof his manhood. while you were caught up in how full clive made you feel, your beloved knight was struggling to hold back from releasing deep within you right then and there.

his breathing was ragged, and he was all too aware of the way you kept thrusting your hips back and forth, trying to mitigate the ache by getting some friction in. the sheer sensation of you perfectly surrounding him makes clive grit his teeth in response.

taking a hold of your waist, clive was able to still your hips before pulling out and pushing himself back into you at a rapid pace. "i cannot hold back my love and desire for you any longer...! fuck, you feel too good my love."

your breasts kept bouncing in tune to his lovemaking, making you gasp as your nails clawed at his back in response, your legs opening wide as they invited clive to thrust even deeper inside of you. never before had you felt such all consuming pleasure before, and you couldn't stop yourself from crying out to him, begging him for more as you prayed for him to never stop.

it was in that moment that all your dreams came true, with your beloved showing you the greatest pleasure that could be accomplished between a man and a woman as he continued pumping himself into you, eyes wild with lust and desire for you and you alone.

you spent god knows how long being loved by clive beneath the light of the moon, gasping and whispering your love for him as he does the same. despite the way you both reached your completion some time ago, clive was an insatiable young man. he couldn't get enough of you-

and truthfully, you couldn't get enough of him, either.

it was only when you acted on your desire to ride him, with your hands clasped to the front of his chest as you gyrate your hips up and down his aching shaft that you came one last time with a soft whimper, feeling your walls clamp down on clive's erection one last time before he finally released himself within your walls. you sigh at the sensation of his seed painting your walls white once more, feeling almost drunk at all the pleasure you felt as he too, had finally succumbed to the post lovemaking exhaustion, finally becoming limp inside of you.

by now, the lovers were tired to their cores, laying back against the grass as you rest against clive's chest. you gently kiss at his heart, licking away the beads of sweat that appears while clive lets out a groan upon feeling your tongue against his skin.

"please, don't be so naughty my love, lest you want me to take you all morning as well?" he completes his teasing threat with a smack against your naked bottom, earning a gasp from you, "c-clive!"

your cute reaction is what makes clive smile once more as he leans down to give you a bruising kiss. "i promise you, my dear love, to never leave your side. i-if you truly accept and love me as i am, then i no longer have a reason to fear."

you share several more kisses throughout the night, making plans for the future while knowing of the potential obstacles that could get in the way of your love for one another. and despite how you knew the fight to keep clive would be difficult, it was all worth it in the end.

feeling clive press another kiss against your damp hair, he lets out a sigh of your name before picking up your shawl and his shirt, throwing the clothes over both of your naked forms before falling back into the grass with you on his chest.

"rest now, my love, and we shall tackle whatever the morning brings together."

with your heart finally free of its heartache, you press a final kiss against his chest before cuddling yourself close to him, dreaming of being decorated in white on your wedding day as you promised your forevers to clive, your soulmate and husband.

a.n. - this has got to be the longest story i have ever written, coming out to a total of 9.3K words 🥹 this is a story trade with the lovely @revoirestbelle , and i hope you readers were able to enjoy this story as well ♡

for context for the title choice for this story, please look up serenade + requited on youtube ♡

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations; and plagiarism are not allowed.

[bluhourz]

when he sees you again

-

It's been about four months since you and Beomgyu have broken up. You thought you would be okay, that the pain and heartache would pass. Well, at least sooner or later. But, here you are. It's 02:32 in the morning, and you were outside trying to keep yourself together. Around you, the snow was falling, slowly filling up the space. The two of you would always meet at this place, a quiet, not so busy spot along the Han River. Usually, no one would be here, and the two of you could be a 'normal' couple without worrying about fans seeing or bothering you. But now, you were all alone.

You stared out at the water, going through that day's event from the start. You were fighting about something, you can't even remember anymore. Both of you were screaming. You were crying. Somehow, somewhere, the two of you ended up deciding to break up. You can't remember who suggested it first, but both of you agreed it would be for the best. You could still see the broken expression on his face. It made your heart physically hurt.

You haven't spoken to him since that night. Soobin updated you every now and then when the two of you chatted about how he was doing, knowing you burned to ask but didn't want to overstep the boundaries. It sounds like he was doing fine, though. Deep down, you were mad at that. How could he be this okay after what had happened? Did he not love you? Did he not care?

You were so deep in thought you didn't hear the crunch of someone's feet behind you.

Beomgyu recognised you instantly as he walked closer. His heart started beating uncontrollably in his chest. Without even thinking, he took off his coat, draping it around your shoulders as he reached your figure. You jumped at the contact, instantly turning around. The moment your eyes met, it felt like the world came to a standstill. At first, neither of you spoke. You were trying to keep calm while also trying to read his face. He kept his gaze firmly on your eyes, trying to gauge how you felt as well.

"It's cold," he broke the silence first, motioning to his jacket.

"Thanks," you managed to get out.

You turned around quickly, feeling the tears threatening to spill. You didn't want him to see how much you were actually hurting.

Beomgyu stared at you for a few seconds longer before he came to stand next to you, also staring out at the water.

The silence was thick, both of you staying quiet now. Thoughts filled your mind. Why was he here? Did he feel the same way you did? Was he eating? Was he resting enough? Why did he give his jacket to you?

"Have you been doing well?" once again, Beomgyu broke the quiet atmosphere.

At first you didn't want to speak. You didn't know if you should give an honest answer or not. Finally, you forced out a small 'no'. Not turning your head, you whispered, "and you?"

"No," his voice was low, and he answered without hesitating.

Silence took over again. You stood next to each other, each lost in their own thoughts. After a while, Beomgyu let out a heavy sigh.

"You're in my head, even when you're not supposed to be. It shouldn't be this hard to let you go."

"You're telling me," you let out a bitter laugh.

"You know, I really fucking miss you. I think we made a massive mistake. I've been struggling. I mess up during practice. I can't focus. I haven't been able to write lyrics since I've lost you," his voice started wavering at the end.

As he finished his speech, you turned to face each other. You didn't even realise tears have started streaming down your face until his hand reached up to brush your cheek.

"I miss you too," you started crying.

Beomgyu instantly pulled you into him, crying too as he felt your body against him for the first time in so long. The soft snow kept falling as you both clutched each other.

[specialagentlokitty]

Lokittys 2024 prompts

“I knew that you were from the beginning, I could see the blood on your hands. You’re like me.”

“You will always be a monster.” “Maybe, but like humans we can choose what we want to be.”

“He/she/they carry more anger and pain then the whole universe combined, I can see it. Betrayal, hurt, deception, heartache, they’ve been through it all. He/she/they walked through hell a thousand times.” “Why are you telling me this?” “Because the only time I’ve ever seen true peace in his/her’s/their eyes is when he/she/they saw you.”

“I wish you always remember me as I was, that I once existed. Will you remember that I stood here with you like this?”

“There is no such thing as beautifully broken.” “Then what is it called?” “It’s called being torn apart from the inside out, and learning how to live.”

“Tell me something about you.” “All I’ve ever loved, I’ve loved alone.”

“You are the best person I’ve ever met, I’ve met so many people, but none of them compare to you.”

“Can I be honest about something?” “There’s a first time for everything, sure.” “There are no words that describe how I feel about you, no words to describe how deeply, passionately, insanely in love with you I am.”

“Why is he/she/they like this?” “All the coldest, rudest people were once as beautiful as flowers, as warm as the sun.”

“I fear if you get too close you’ll see me for who I really am, I don’t want you to see me for that.”

“Why does it hurt..?”

“Let pain come, let it wash over you, then let it leave.”

“You exist, and that in itself is beautiful.”

“You deserve a love so deep it roots itself into your very soul, reminds you that out there somebody who thinks of you and sees the world in your smile.”

“What is it about (Y/N) you love so much?” “Aside from being the most spectacular person I have ever met, everything. I just wish there was a way I could say that.” “Turn around.”

“Would you come find me?” “I’ll cross the entire earth if I have to.”

“Will you meet me in the place where we first met?”

“I’ve been told that apparently I love you.” “See, I want to say good for you but that doesn’t seem like the appropriate response.” “No, it really wouldn’t. But if you want to say it then that’s okay.” “Good for you.”

“Give me money.” “Do I like like a bank to you?” “Do you have money?” “Yes?” “Then yes.”

“I can’t read, you know that right?” “You can read, stop lying and help.”

“I didn’t know you were married, I can’t believe it! You didn’t tell me?!” “Wait until you find out who actually agreed to marry me.”

“Let’s make a bet.” “No!” “Why?” “Because somehow you always win!”

“I once sold my soul.” “Hard to believe you had a soul in the first place.”

“Can you use magic?” “I feel unsafe answering that.”

“You make me want to cry.” “Like, in a you’re happy to see me way?” “I said what I said.” “Is that a good or bad thing?!”

“Look, in life you either find a way or make a way, but if you stand there and do nothing, then you’ll never get where you want to be.”

“I need a parent or guardian to sign this.” “I’m neither.” “You’re close enough, sign it.”

“Tell me something I don’t know about you.” “I was hit by a car once, not fun.” “Not what I was expecting. Why?”

“You ask a lot of questions.”

“Do you want a hug?” “No, that involves physical contact and that’s gross.” “We are quite literally married. If you’re angry at me just tell me.”

“Why is it every time I come here you seem to be here too?” “I study here.” “In detention?”

“What was the last thing he/she/they said to you?” “Ask if we could get married.”

“Can I stay at yours?” “You don’t need to ask.”

“If you could go anywhere, where would you go?” “Home…”

“I don’t remember you… I’m sorry…” “that’s alright, how about we start again, from square one?”

“Will you ever forgive me?”

“I can’t do this… be this anymore…”

“I never asked for any of this!”

“Did you mean it?” “What?” “When you said you loved me did you mean it?”

“Don’t go… stay with me..”

“I think when you’re in love, and that person in return loves you, it is the most beautiful thing in the world. The most painful thing.”

“All my heartache is because of you!”

“I’m.. I’m sorry…” “it’s okay… it’s not your fault…”

“If you want the world then it’s yours, whatever you want I’ll get it for you.”

“Come with me.” “Where?” “Anywhere but here.”

“I have to do this, I have to do it alone.” “No you don’t..”

“You’re all alone.” “I never go anywhere alone.”

“You’re not so scary.” “I’m not?”

“You’re the one!” “What?” “You are everything I never knew I needed, everything I never knew I wanted. You are the one person I want for the rest of my life, to be by my side.”

“Did you just punch me in the face?” “I would say sorry but that’s a lie.”

“How long have you been waiting?” “Hundreds of years.”

“I love the sound of your laugh.”

“What’s your favourite thing in this world?” “You.”

“He/she/they would hurt anybody, everybody, but you’re the one person he/she/they just can’t hurt.”

“You are the one thing that keeps me sane.”

“So, want to start a riot?” “Sometimes I worry about you.”

“Are you drunk?” “Extremely.”

“I swear to god I’m going to knock you out one day.”

“Are you an Angel!” “No, the opposite actually, demon.”

“Why do you insist on destroying all my things?”

“Stop throwing things!” “No!”

“Warn a person before walking up to them!”

“My mother warned me about people like you.” “Did you listen?” “No, I never was any good at that.”

“I’m pumped up on caffeine and I feel like my heart is going to explode.” “Yes, no more caffeine for you.”

“You’re very British.” “I.. don’t know if that’s an insult…”

“Why do you insist on breaking all the rules?”

“You stole my car?” “You left your keys unguarded.” “So you stole them?”

“Even if nobody else believes you I do.” “Really?” “Of course.”

“You will always be the most important part of my life.”

“Thank you.” “For what?” “For showing me what it’s like to be human…”

[loftec]

Last week's Weekly Tag Wednesday!

Because I was festival prepping last week and had zero time for anything else but now I'm back and ready for some tags! Thank you @wehangout @mmmichyyy @michellemisfit for the tag (and also @deedala & @jrooc for the picrew tags!) <3

Name and A03 handle: lofty / loftec

Current Location: Sofa, living room.

Favorite picrew (don't have one? you can skip this or do this one)? I can't remember if I have a favourite one, so I'll just do this one!

The "SF" probably stands for something, but I immediately thought of Svensk Filmindustri and thought that was fun.

What's one thing you want in a picrew?

MORE GLASSES OPTIONS omg please. Colour and shape. I also really love it when I can build the hair in sections so I can colour my roots differently than the rest of the hair. Also, worse hair options. Come on, normalise 'I've got no hair texture or interest or time to do anything about it'. I feel like an imposter whenever I pick one of these perfectly swooshy dos.

Favourite thing you’ve created (or seen created) for the fandom?

None the wiser

Why is it your favourite? It's mad to think about but it was the first thing I decided to make for this fandom, and I'm still working on it (very very slowly) I don't know if I've ever spent this much time and effort on anything else. It's very special to me.

Did it come easily or was it hard to create? Both, right now it's very hard, but it usually comes back around.

Last ao3 fic you commented on? A Dead Boy Detectives fic, I'm pretty sure.

Biggest WIP heartache you’ve ever experienced? I'm embarrassed to admit that I don't usually read WIPs, not really because they're unfinished but because I don't often read long fic lol. My ideal fic for reading is a concise 5k oneshot, I am a terrible hypocrite.

Favorite trope or head cannon you like included in a fanfic? I do love a good outside perspective on Ian and Mickey's relationship not fully getting their dynamic and misunderstanding their special flavour of love. Also really like different canon-divergent stories where they get separated in different moments and then reunited in the future in various ways.

Least favourite? For most ships / fandoms I read fic of, I usually develop a set of icks that cause me to click out more or less immediately, often it's to do with a certain nickname or expression or act that I can't physically stand, or, you know, which signal a fundamental mismatch between mine and the author's focus/interests/views. Unfortunately, any mention of anything happening after season 5 has become a bit of an ick for me, which is deeply unfair to writers who embrace the later half of the show.

Secret or surprising kink or trope? No, I'm extremely basic tbh. My favourite time to read fic for a new fandom is always at the very start when everybody is writing the same super basic story over and over again.

Describe how you feel after you’ve created something new? The best feeling is when I know I've written the last sentence of a story or a chapter, it's always so clear that this, this is it, that's where it ends. I feel really accomplished and complete in that moment and it's great. Then there's still hours and hours of editing after that and it's usually 4 in the morning and I'm feeling slightly unhinged when I actually post.

Top hype man you have that always helps you get across the finish line: I tend to keep to myself when I'm working on something, but I can always rely on @mittimellan @wideblueskies & @the-rat-wins if I ever need to ramble about anything.

It's been a bad day, you turn to the fandom and you _____? Lurk and enjoy the good vibes and crafts. I probably also find something in my bookmarks that I've already read a thousand times and read it again.