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applepiesupreme · 4 months

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American Apple Pie

Pairing: Low/Mid Honor Arthur Morgan and female OC.

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Savigne Ricci is a temporary guest at the Van der Linde camp. Her path crosses with the enforcer of the gang, Arthur Morgan and despite their differences, a relationship develops between them. Whole lot of smut and fluff, slow burn-ish.

Chapter 15

AOC Link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54945853/chapters/143463790

She saw Saint Denis appear outside of her window and smiled, watching the buildings flicker in the distance. The feeling of home bloomed in her. The man across from her prattled on and she politely pretended to listen.

"...Miss Ricci?"

"Hmmm? I'm sorry, my mind just went somewhere else for a minute."

He mirrored her smile. Clean shaven except for a well groomed mustache, clear skin, his hair a shock of yellow, his eyes an enticing shade of grey. Her gaze dipped down to his clothes - well tailored and fitting. The kind of man she used to find intriguing.

"I was asking when you're starting your new job."

Her smile widened into a grin. "In a week or so now."

"You seem excited," he chuckled.

"I am." She shrugged, unapologetic.

"It's refreshing to see someone like their job this much." He gave her a long look and she cleared her throat and went back to watching the approaching buildings.

"I was thinking," Mr. Dunham drawled and she knew what he was going to say before he said it. “Maybe I can call on you sometime. I will be in the city for a few weeks. This contract my client wants to sign is lengthy and it'll take time to comb through it."

"I'm flattered," she said carefully. "But, I have some preparations to make. And after...well...new job and all that. I think I'll be very busy and when I'm not, likely tired."

She felt his gaze on her hands and knew he was confirming the lack of a ring as if he hadn't done so half a dozen times already.

"Still, everyone has to eat sometime."

"I eat at work," she said, feeling herself getting slightly flustered and not sure as to why. She had decided that she would move on, hadn't she? No reason why she shouldn't let him wine and dine her. And yet, all she felt at the prospect was a profound lack of interest.

Unfortunately for her, he was the type who took rejection as a challenge: "I admire your dedication. But you must have days off."

"I do," she relented, suddenly glad that the train was pulling into the station and made to get up. He shot up before her and swiftly removed her valise from above, then his own. She stood about aimlessly and dropped back into her seat to wait for the train to come to a full stop.

"I don't know my schedule yet." was her eventual conclusion.

Mr. Dunham nodded and took out a card to scribble on the back of it. The moment the train stopped Savigne shot up and moved to disembark. He followed with her valise. She stepped down the ladder and blinked in the bright sun, smelling the familiar smells of Saint Denis. Then froze when she spotted Arthur striding towards her. Her stomach did a flip at the sight of him. He had that sauntering, confident gait that she knew so well, easily recognizable anywhere. Her mouth ran dry at the sight of those long legs, the wide shoulders, the black shirt snug against his broad chest, the gunbelt swinging on his hip and of course that gambler hat, dipped low.

It had been almost a week and although he had never been far from her thoughts, the days in New York had been busy, overwhelming, brimming with excitement and novelty, so she had managed not to wallow. Seeing him now, so unexpectedly out of the gate, she felt caught off guard and unprepared. She gaped in disbelief at his approaching form until she felt a touch on her arm.

“My card," her fellow traveler offered, "It has the name of the hotel I'll be staying at."

"I..." she stammered, still watching Arthur approach from the corner of her eye. "…Thank you." They shook hands and she felt him holding hers longer than he should have. She reached down for her valise.

"I would really like it if you called on me, Miss Ricci." He lifted his hat momentarily. "Especially since you have some time before you start. I'm sure you know the best food in town, and I wouldn’t mind sampling it." He gave her a warm grin.

She forced a smile and stepped away with a nod. Arthur had come to stand a few feet from them. His eyes, clear, sharp and a deeper blue than the summer sky above them, flicked to the man for a moment before they locked on her again.

"Good day, Mr. Dunham," she managed as she stepped towards Arthur, who took her valise from her.

"I prefer Erik," he called after her. He seemed unperturbed by the other man’s presence, even oblivious to it. Maybe he thought he was just a coachman, here to pick her up.

Savigne nodded and walked away, feeling Arthur close at her heels.

She cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure. "How did you know I was coming back today?"

"Didn’," was his simple response.

She glanced at him over her shoulder, surprised. The southbound train was scheduled to arrive once a day in Saint Denis. She dismissed the conclusion of his answer as ridiculous.

"Why are you even h-”

"This way."

He veered to the left, her valise at hand, and after momentarily throwing up her arms in exasperation, she followed. Frost was waiting at the station and she ran up to him to pat his snout and coo in his ear. "Don't have apples for you today boy," she whispered as Arthur climbed up the saddle. "Sorry."

He extended his hand to her. She gave him a pointed look.

“Said ya was comin’ back to camp, didn’ ya?”

He looked confident and recovered from his setback. It shouldn't surprise her really, because unlike herself, Arthur had the remarkable ability to jump right back on whatever horse had bucked him. Licking her wounds took Savigne days if not weeks sometimes. But not for Arthur. When he took a tumble he just dusted himself off and climbed right back on the saddle. And now she felt at a disadvantage because her ire had dampened and she had never been able to keep a grudge.

”I’m not going to camp, I’m going to the steakhouse,” she said, patting Frost’s flank.

”Fine, I’ll take ya.”

“I can go myse-”

“Thought ya wan’ed to be civil,” he said coolly.

She blinked, taken aback for a moment. “Well…yes, but..."

She eyed him with suspicion, trying to gauge if he meant it. It would make her camp life –whatever remained of it at this point- a lot less stressful if she didn't have to avoid him all the time, so there was that. He was a hard man to ignore and she hated the idea of zipping to and from her tent every time he was up and about in camp. But he had never struck her as the type who would care to keep a civil discourse. Then again, wasn’t it 'civil' to run errands for an old flame? The memory of Mary soured her stomach and put a scowl on her face.

"Ya sayin' I can't be, that it?” He asked when he misread it. He gave her an intense look, swaying on the horse, hand still extended. "Cause I ain't fancy like yer friend?" His head jabbed back to the station.

Savigne felt her face heat up. "That's nonsense," she muttered, offended. She grabbed his hand and pulled herself up to settle behind him.

A moment later she added, miffed: "Also, he wasn't my friend."

"Could'a fooled me," he shot back lowly.

“He was just a fellow traveler,” annoyed that she felt the compulsion to explain herself.

“That so?” he growled, “No fellow traveler ask me to dinner, tell ya that.”

At least I didn’t saunter around town in his arm, she thought darkly but bit back the words. One of them had to be the mature person and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be Arthur.

This decision went right out the window the next moment: “You sure you want to be seen with me in town? People might get the wrong idea, wouldn’t want to ruin your reputation,” she quipped.

”Christ,” he managed stiffly before he clicked his tongue for Frost to move.

She smiled to herself, basking in the satisfaction of pettiness. That is, until his smell of tobacco, horse and fire brought back a rush of emotion. Here we go again, she thought sourly. It daunted her, this pull he had on her. She was fine when he wasn’t around, it was a easy to keep her mind busy, a skill she had honed over the years. But the moment he showed up, she felt the force of the maelstrom tugging at her again, spinning her, sucking her ever closer. No matter how much rationalization she came up with in her head, it wasn't enough to withstand the force of that pull. I need to move out of camp, she thought to herself. Would have been easier if she hadn’t spent a good chunk of her savings on a hotel in Saint Denis and a trip to New York, but there was no helping it. Being around him was making moving on unnecessarily difficult. After she had barely pined for him for almost an entire week, ten minutes into showing up he was bewitching her again with his stupid eyes and his stupid scent and his stupid touch.

“I appreciate the civility,” she explained as they rode through the familiar streets, “but it’s not necessary. I’m not so dainty that I can’t carry my own valise.”

He didn’t answer for a while.

”Might be, just wan’ed to make sure yer fine,” he said roughly.

Something warm and soft bloomed in her gut and she hastily stomped it out. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

”Woman,” was the sigh of exasperation, “ya don’ need to raise yer hackles at everything I say.”

Savigne pressed her lips, chided.

They arrived at the back door of the steakhouse. She slid down and ran in, expecting him to wait for her outside. To her surprise, he took her valise and followed.

In the kitchen Luther was exactly where she had left him, flipping steaks at the burner.

"Welcome back!" he hollered and gave her a big hug. Arthur strode in after her and stood a few steps away to place the valise on the floor.

"You won't believe the things I cooked Luther! Like, first off - New York - amazing. I mean scary, a little, but also amazing. So busy, so many things to do! It's like you go there and you go through a time machine, it's the future! Anyhow, I whipped up some meringue; you would have cried your beady little eyes out, it was the best one in class, perfect stiff tips, our chef passed it around, can you believe that, you should have seen the look on people’s faces, especially this one guy, I didn’t like him, he reminded me of George, remember George, he used to work here a few years back and always had that dirty apron, jesus, the grime on that apron, I mean seriously, how hard can it be to wash your damn apron, you don’t see me complaining, but George, he didn’t even care, unbelievable, instant reason to fire someone if you ask me, inexcusable, imagine cooking people’s food and you look like you just crawled through a back alley, but that was before Mr. Bower became a partner here of course and thank god for that because the menu before that was just – I mean, might as well put slop on a plate at that point...

"Savigne, take a breath."

She sputtered and took a breath. "Anyway, as I was saying…"

"See here," he interrupted, taking out the cigarette from his mouth to wave it in her face as she vehemently swatted the smoke away, "I can see yer worked up and ready to rattle on till youse blue, but I don' have the ear for it today. Some of us still have to work."

She rolled her eyes. "I know you're dying to hear all about it, don't pretend otherwise."

"I assure ya, I want nothin’ less."

"So anyway, and then we ate at this restaurant..."

"Who's yer friend?"

There was a long moment of awkward silence. Then Arthur extended his hand with a gruff “Arthur" and Luther shook it, locking eyes with him and giving him a wide smile. Savigne just watched the two big hands clasp and shifted on her feet with unease, not sure if she liked the idea of these particular two spheres of her life overlapping.

"Luther here." He pointed his steak fork at the other man. "Ya know…I think I might ‘ave heard about ya."

Arthur crossed his arms, scratched his beard. “That so?”

"Maybe I'll come back later!” Savigne interjected with haste. “Given your foul mood.” Last thing she wanted was for Luther to reveal something she had said about Arthur in the past. Knowing him, it would be something wildly inappropriate and possibly untrue.

Luther gave her an amused look. Then the fork jabbed in her direction: "Ya do that."

"I know you missed me," she huffed.

He just flipped a steak, nonchalant.

"Jesus, who uncorked you and let you turn into vinegar?"

He scrutinized the orders stuck at the railing above his head.

"Fine! I'll come back later."

"Ya keep sayin’ that, but youse still here."

She rolled her eyes again and caught Arthur's lips twitching. It propelled her to leave.

"Don't know what I was thinking," she mumbled to herself, exiting the backdoor. "Grumpy old man!"

Arthur saddled back up and offered her his hand. She climbed up, distracted and her mood rattled.

How come I always pick these horrible men, she ruminated. I deserve to be treated nicely, instead I just get shoved around, ignored and talked down to. Mr Dunham at least had been polite. If she called on him, he wouldn't treat her like a nuisance and rudely chase her out. No sir, he would likely jump at the idea of seeing her, would arrive early and maybe kiss her hand when she did. No doubt he would treat her like a gentleman, open doors and pull out chairs for her, let her advise him what to order and of course insist she order first. Then he would sit and listen attentively and with interest when she spoke, ask questions and praise her wits and her character and her looks and make her feel important and special.

But then she thought of how Luther had always been there for her when she was going through a tough time and how Arthur had done things for her Mr Dunham never would have even attempted, and felt a little guilty. Yes, they weren’t always tolerable, they were difficult men with sharp tongues and rough attitudes, and more often than not they annoyed the hell out of her, but they were always there when it counted. She sighed and looked around, only to realize that they were at the outskirts of Saint Denis.

"Where are we going?" she asked, even though she knew the answer.

"Home.”

Savigne thought about her dramatic exit from camp. In hindsight, she must have looked a bit unhinged, stomping around like a madwoman, face flushed, clothes damp, hair hanging wild. She cringed at the memory. "Take me back to Saint Denis. I'll come to camp when I'm ready," she said with a lofty tone.

''Fraid ya can’t,” he said casually.

”Huh?”

”Seeing Cricket is there already."

A jolt of surprise went through her.

”Excuse me?!”

"Took him back few days ago."

”You took my god damn horse?!” she sputtered in disbelief. “Why?!”

"Didn' think they cared for’im well enough,” he sighed, leisurely lighting a cigarette.

If she had ever heard bullshit, this was it. She was speechless for a few moments. “Am I allowed to raise my hackles now?” she spat when she found her voice again.

He actually, seriously grunted in affirmation.

Serves me right for falling for that civility racket, she thought, her temper starting to sizzle. He had taken Cricket not just to leave himself as the only option to return to camp, but clearly also to force her back earlier than she had planned. Arthur was clever enough but he loved to play dumb to get his way and it irritated her that he was certainly getting it today. Well if he thought that meant he can give her a night time visit, he had another thing coming. She was going to sleep with knife at hand tonight, not under the pillow.

“How did you even manage to do that?” she hissed. No stable would allow a non owner to take out a horse, it would defy the whole point of stabling your horse.

“The kid and I came to an...understandin'.” She could hear the smug grin in his voice.

Poor Jebediah, she thought and ground her teeth.

"Don't even think about veering off the main road," she said darkly.

"No ma'am," was his simple response as he kicked Frost into gear.

#arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan fluff #arthur morgan smut #low honor arthur morgan #mid honor arthur morgan #arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #fanfic #fluff #smut

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streaminn · 1 year

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Okie, so I was in bed, totally about to turn off my phone in a few minutes and get them eepies, but then I made the mistake of opening up your Ortegaverse tag and doom-scrolled... oopsies

Anyway, while scrolling, I came across an old comment from our good friend @theogm-art from a few days ago. Unfortunately, I don't have a screenshot but basically, it was about Wednesday finding Enid with May and taking them back to the Addams Mansion. And of course, my brain took it as a challenge lol.

And so, blah blah my interpretation blah blah blah (forgive me, I'm tired lol)

"You live here?" Wednesday asked, trying not to sound disgusted. The apartment that Enid took the trio to wasn't too awful, but it certainly wasn't going in any magazines. The whole place was small and as far as Wednesday could tell, the was only one bedroom, definitely far too small for an entire family to live in.

"Yeah, it isn't a mansion but... it's home," Enid sighed before turning to her daughter, "Hey pup! Whataya want for lunch?"

"PB&J PWEASE! And in twiangles!" May shouted, making Enid chuckle fondly. Her daughter, just like Enid at seven, is still unable to pronounce her L's and R's. "Alright, pup! One PB&J in triangles, coming up!" Enid turned back to the raven standing dumbfounded by the front door, "You want anything, Wends? I don't have much, but I'm told I make a mean PB&J?"

Wednesday finds herself about to make some remark about the gluttonous nature of the sandwich, but quickly bites her tongue, "I suppose I stomach a single sandwich."

(idk, time skip 30 mins)

"Enid."

"Yeah? What's up Wends?"

"I couldn't help but notice, this apartment is incredibly small. I assume you aren't doing well financially?"

Enid sighs in response and instead looks to May, "Hey pup? Mama needs to talk with her friend, can you go play in our room?" May nods happily and runs off to their bedroom, leaving the adults alone. "No, I'm honestly just barely keeping up with the bills. It's surprisingly hard raising a seven-year-old all on your own," the wolf jokes, but receives no sign of humor from the other woman.

Instead, Wednesday's eyes widen in shock, "On your own?" The dark-haired woman stares in disbelief for another moment before finding her voice again, though lightly laced with anger, "Where is her other mother? Is she absentee?"

Enid laughs flatly, but her face quickly turns dark as the trauma from seven years ago returns with a vengeance, "No, she um... She's not with us anymore. She was a normie and... well," Enid doesn't finish her sentence but she doesn't need to, Wednesday quickly connects the dots.

"Oh, I am sorry for your loss..." Wednesday pauses before adding, "And I apologize for jumping to conclusions. I'm left to assume she was quite the attentive partner, seeing as she bore your child."

Enid snorted out a laugh, "Yeah... yeah, she was amazing." Enid fidgets helplessly with the ring adorning her left-hand finger. A silence settles over the room for a while. It's not tense, but it's not exactly comfortable either. Wednesday's mind churns through all the new information she's been given over the last hour.

Eventually, Wednesday breaks the silence, "Come back with me to the mansion."

"Wh- what? Why?"

"Your daughter deserves a safe and loving environment to grow up. And you too deserve the same, Enid. I must admit, I do not know much about taking care of a child, but I'm sure my parents would be honored to help you," Wednesday speaks plainly as if she isn't offering everything, "You'd be given a well-deserved break."

Enid, for her part, is left shocked. Finally, she picks her jaw back up from the floor to speak. "Wednesday," the wolf whispers in awe, "You'd really take me back there? After what I did?"

"Of course, Enid. As I said, I have already forgiven you. I..." An uneasiness overwhelms the raven as the need to offer vulnerability to Enid crashes over her, but she quickly powers through, "I searched for you everywhere. I never once stopped looking. I- I couldn't bear being so far away for so long, Enid."

Enid is once again taken aback. For so long, Enid thought herself to be unforgivable as the endless traumas and heartbreak throughout the last two decades tore her soul apart, time and again until all she was left with was broken memories and a little girl who relied on her for everything. But now, she's not only been so easily forgiven by one of the only people she's ever sought it from but she's also being given a second chance at life. It feels like another ploy by the universe. Surely, this is just another in a long line of tricks to lead her into that dreaded false sense of security.

But no. As Enid stares into those dark eyes, she sees nothing but truth. It's a breath of fresh air and Enid takes it in greedily. "Okay, I'll go with you. Thank you, Wends," Enid accepts, then speaks softly, "We really do work, don't we?"

And for the first time Enid's ever seen it, Wednesday smiles. Just barely, but it's there. "We shouldn't," the brunette replies, "But we do."

Okie, time to pass out lol

However Enid's face turns cold, a steel of ice in those blue eyes as her smile falls.

"but I won't accept charity."

Wednesday stares. "this isn't charity-"

Enid waves her hand in a no no gesture as she sighs. It's then that Wednesday begins to be too aware of the lines of stress that lines her past roommates face. There's eyebags lying under her eyes, not so noticeable when she's smiling but all too seen when not.

"it is to me," Enid says before she gives a smile, shaky and not as true. It looks like a compromise. "so please let me help out around the house."

Wednesday swallow the No that was so ready to spill from her lips. She grits back the words of you deserve so much more, deserve to be pampered and cared for.

Wednesday nods and she stares at the way Enid smiles, her finger playing with the ring on her hand.

#Writing #Rachelsfavqueer #Enid x Wednesday #Ortegaverse #AAAAAA WE GOT SO MUCH TALENTED AND SKILLED PEOPLE HOLY SHIT #THANKS RACHEL!!!!

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k-writer1998 · 2 months

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Through Your Eyes (3/3)

w.c: 2.6k

a/n: Sorry for the delay but here it is cause I finally got back to my pc! Did I also go back and change the title after so long? Yes... I did... it just fit better with everything okay? ;-;

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Although a bit shaky and oddly centered it was an endearing photo nonetheless with a natural feel and a genuine energy radiating from our smiles. What surprised me though was my expression, I didn't know I could make a face like that. Softened features, relaxed expression and a certain sweetness captured in my eyes. Feeling a familiar twisting in my stomach, I bit back the words that wanted to spill out. I knew what this was but I was scared. Instead my eyes tore away from my face and moved to his. His eyes were as clear and captivating as usual with their flecks of bold purple among the milk chocolate of his irises. Wait a moment… Instinctively, my hand moved to run through the ends of my hair, spilling ash brown and purple strands into my view. Setting the camera down, I look back at the ocean as my thoughts slowly fall down a rabbit hole. Am I overthinking it? Does Seungmin know? If he did, why didn’t he tell me? Maybe- I felt his body rest on me before his head found its way to my shoulder. For a moment I swear my heart stopped at the momentary thought that entered my mind, but I could still feel the steady rhythm of his breathing.

“Tired?” I ask, now focusing on the boy beside me.

“Yeah… will you keep talking to me?”

It was coming… that was the only thing my brain could scream at me. The words danced on the tip of my tongue but I couldn’t do it, to give him a false sense of hope when I wasn’t even sure. What if I tried and it didn’t work? Our mark is too common to jump to conclusions so I’ll take the burden of hope onto myself and quietly go along with his last wishes.

“Of course. Hmmm… any more interesting stories about your soulmate mark?”

“I thought you didn’t care for those things?”

“Just because I’m not actively scouring the world for mine doesn’t mean I’m not interested. I’m still hopeful.”

“Well I’m sure whoever it is will be lucky. You’re pretty okay after all.”

“I’m honored to receive such high praise,” I joke.

“You know what I mean. Oh. Before I forget,” he placed his hand on mine before guiding it to the small box he brought along with him. “Could you do me a favor and deliver this to someone when you go back to the city? I left their business card inside.”

“Simple enough. Is it your elusive friend you kept this a secret from? I’ll have to figure out how to break the news if it is.” I explained, earning me a quiet chuckle from the boy.

“Nothing crazy like that. He’s just my senior at the hospital.”

“I don’t think that’s the condition he wanted you in for your next visit.”

“If you don’t like a psychiatrist as a fall back career maybe you should do stand up comedy.”

“Wow, are my photos really that bad that my dear friend has to try to find me a new career?”

“Enough,” he says, although I could hear the smile in his voice. “You wanted to go on about soulmates right? Well, do you have any fun stories?”

“My eyes have always been straight black my entire life. Like I said, my soulmate is a bit boring,” I chuckle. “What other colors have your eyes changed to?”

“Aside from red there was lime green, silver, pink, orange but not the natural kind, more like the highlighter shade. With all the bright colors I had a lot of talent scouts trying to recruit me.”

“Look at you rockstar. You're already handsome so I’m not surprised. Any idol skills up your sleeve?”

Even though my lips continued to move and converse with him my mind was elsewhere placing all the pieces together. Seungmin is my soulmate… I am Seungmin’s soulmate. As the conversation winded down I felt the weight on my shoulder lighten as I turned to look at him, a camera lens greeting me instead. Instinctively my lips pulled into a smile as I furrowed my brow.

“What are you doing?”

“You said you like the world through my eyes right? My final gift for you is to see yourself in that view.”

His words struck a chord in my heart, the finality of that statement leaving an unsettling feeling in the pit of my stomach. I had to turn away to blink back tears that threatened to fall.

“Stop it. At this rate you’ll get the waterworks you’re trying to avoid in the first place.”

“Fine, fine. I'll keep it short. Thank you for accompanying me till the end.”

Somewhere between his sincere words, the camera shutter blinked before I felt the gentle thud of his head once again followed by the sound of crunching sand and a silence that stretched as the minutes passed. One can imagine the shock on my manager’s face when he saw my tear-stained face sitting there with a listless Seungmin. He was forced to make do with the short explanation while we collected our things and brought Seungmin to the car. Once the loose ends were tied up with Granny Jeong, we headed back to the city as I told the whole story.

“Okay so let me get this right. I let you run off to the ocean to clear your head and you somehow met your terminally ill potential soulmate?

“That's the extremely abridged version of it, yes. If you want to blame someone, blame fate.”

Once we arrived at the hospital the person I contacted from the card came out to greet us. He had dark curly hair with glasses who looked no more than a few years older than myself. After situating Seungmin in a room, he sat me in his office and from the title on the card he was a love disease specialist. It was obvious he didn’t agree with Seungmin’s plans as I explained everything. At the end of the story he sighed in resignation before reaching out to take the box. Instinctively I pulled it back, having yet to explain potentially the most important factor of the story.

“I know it’s gonna sound crazy but I fell in love with Seungmin… and I think I’m his soulmate.” He pondered carefully before speaking.

“What makes you believe you guys are soulmates?”

“Our mark is a common one so it’s hard to give a definitive answer. The only real “proof” I have at this time is this. Everything else is circumstantial.”

With that I handed the man my camera, the image zoomed into Seungmin’s eyes showing the noticeable flecks of purple that streak through his iris just like the streaks of violet that highlight my hair.

“And your feelings are… genuine?”

“I’m not sure how I can prove it, but yes they are. I honestly surprise myself with how easily I can say that. Am I making sense?”

“Yes I think I understand.” The doctor’s gaze softened as he spoke. Was I making that face again? “I think I can guess why you’re hesitating with handing over the fragments.”

“I may not have gone looking for him but I won’t let him get away that easily. I don't know if these fresh feelings or the fact we are soulmates is enough but I have to try.”

“Love diseases are finicky when it comes to what is defined as “true love”. Some people get away with just being soulmates while others need raw genuine feelings in full force. Everything is a gamble left to fate. I'm not trying to speak against this idea or anything, I’m just surprised that both my juniors are just as reckless as I was.”

After that, Dr. Bang walked me through the whole procedure of attempting to treat the shattered heart disease. Although there was a surgical piece to it, piecing Seungmin’s heart together had to be done myself and were it not for the doctor I would have pieced it together without rest. Frustratingly after a few mandated breaks, the heart was completed after the thirty-second hour. With that done it was now time for the anxiety inducing part. Before Dr. Bang could finish the procedure, the heart has to sit within the body for twenty-four hours to see if the body accepts or rejects the transplant. Because of this, I was sent home and they would call me with the results. To not be left alone with my thoughts, I went to my friend’s salon to ramble my worries away. As it was within business hours I had to practically pay for her time as she sat me in the salon chair, my lips spilling all my anxieties and worries about the procedure. Her soothing words alongside the relaxing stroke of her hands through my hair chased away the tension built up for a bit. Half my day was spent going in circles with her and by the end of it I had calmed down enough I wasn’t bouncing off the walls and new colors were added to my hair.

That didn’t stop my anxious pacing once I got home though. Sleep escaped me as the twenty-four hour mark ticked closer and closer until it passed and yet there was still no call. One hour later, then two, to four… I had to turn to my manager and work on the exhibit before I really lost my mind although he banned me from actually coming to the gallery in fear I would tear down the photos for the second time when the exhibit is only a few days away. By the fifth hour I was about to make my way to the gallery regardless when my phone rang and I jumped to answer it. Good news. I was at the hospital within the hour and without much thought I barged into the room to hear a monitor beeping in a familiar steady rhythm. My unannounced entrance startled the doctor patient duo. Giving us a knowing smile Dr. Bang closed their conversation quickly before giving us some space. I made my way to his bedside as silence filled the room. The boy who always broke the silence first was now at a loss for words so I took the initiative this time.

“You weren’t expecting this development were you?”

“Honestly? No, but is it weird to say I’m glad?”

“I would hope you’d be glad, all things considered.”

He gave me a soft smile as a reply but my mind was too preoccupied taking in every little detail as if his life would slip away from him once again if I even so much as blinked. The jagged cracks have now faded to the faintest scars and his eyes were still as clear as ever with the fluorescent lights catching the faint flecks of violet, the newest shades of blue and pink now present as well. So engrossed with tracing over every little feature of the boy in front of me, I was startled by the sudden warmth that fell onto my hand.

“Hey, I’m fine now. I’m okay and it’s because of you.”

The sound of his voice seemed to quell my racing mind only for a blush to burn across my face as I realized the meaning of his words and the hand now holding mine.

“So, I guess Dr. Bang already told you everything…”

“To a certain degree, although I’d much prefer to hear it from you.”

“Well wouldn’t I sound a bit crazy to say that I fell in love with you in less than a week?”

“Crazy is just part of your vocabulary Miss-I-trashed-an-entire-exhibit-before-its-opening. Plus it wouldn’t sound as crazy if I said that you earned my trust in the span of one day and became one of the most important people in my life shortly after, right?”

If I didn’t already understand what Seungmin was trying to convey, the small squeeze to my hand was confirmation. After everything that was all he could give and that was enough because that was his way of saying it which made it all the more endearing.

A few days passed and it was my exhibit’s soft opening. With the permission of Dr. Bang, Seungmin was able to attend. Upon my playful request he reluctantly covered his eyes as I slowly guided him into the gallery before allowing him to open his eyes. My eyes traced over his expressions as he examined the photos that adorned the walls as realization hit him.

“Wait, aren’t those-”

“Your photos? Yeah… I know I didn’t have your permission but I wanted to tell a story of finding my spark again which ultimately includes you. You are referenced as an anonymous photographer I collaborated with and we can work out the business details later or I can remove them if you aren’t comfortable. I just couldn’t help it-”

“You’re fine,” he chuckles as he grabs my hand to reassure me. “I’m glad you think so highly of my photography skills as a professional. Walk me through it?”

Although he was there for every one of these photos, I still went and explained each one to him as he intently listened to my endless rambling until we reached the final wall and main attraction. There were three photos lined up next to each other. The first being the very first photo I took of Seungmin’s silhouette, followed by the crooked selfie of us together, and ending with the final photo Seungmin took of me.

“You know it was this very photo that made me realize you were my soulmate?” I said, pointing at the center photo.

“I stopped looking in the mirror because of the disease so I never noticed the hints of violet.”

“Well in retrospect, I do apologize for calling you boring because you are far from that.”

“So what’s the explanation for all the crazy colors I had to suffer through?”

“My university roommate needed a victim because she was trying to be a hairdresser.”

“And here I thought it’s because you’re an artist and don’t fit in a box.”

“Don’t quote me to bully me.”

I playfully slapped his shoulder as we shared a laugh. Since it was the soft opening there were far fewer guests in attendance, mainly friends and close work connections. I made my rounds greeting everyone with Seungmin by my side but at the sight of this person I squealed happily before glomping them in a hug, noticing the person beside them shortly after.

“Dr. Bang I didn’t expect to see you here. So you are my sunbae’s beloved 'Chanie' I hear about often.”

He awkwardly laughed at the mention of his soulmate’s name of endearment for him as the tips of his ears turned red. We chatted a bit more before I continued to make my way through the guestlist, introducing close friends to Seungmin along the way. Upon spotting the pair I was looking for, I called out to the boy on crutches.

“Hyunjin! I’m so glad you can make it! I see you’ve been promoted to crutches.”

“Y/n, your photos are stunning as usual.”

“He’s been hard at work during physical therapy so he’s ahead of schedule,” his soulmate responded excitedly.

“That’s amazing,” I congratulated before dramatically clearing my throat which earned me an eye roll from both Seungmin and Hyunjin. “As my closest friend I’d like to introduce you guys to my collaborator in this exhibit and my soulmate, Kim Seungmin. This is my stubborn best friend Hwang Hyunjin. You can thank him for being the practice dummy to learn how to handle love diseases.”

#stray kids imagines #stray kids aus #skz imagines #skz aus #kim seungmin imagines #kim seungmin aus #soulmate au #shattered heart disease #photographer! y/n x resident! seungmin #through your eyes

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respectfulkitfistosimp · 1 year

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Many Moons Ago

A Il Capitano x reader series part 4 masterlist

You regretted your decision, you regretted staying and taking care of this humans, who's bones could be broken so easily and blood could be drawn form the smallest scrape, yet you also thought it would be dishonorable to leave them when they had no chance of running after you, when they were so hurt and bruised from the fight, so you stayed despite your better judgement, and right now as you watched the sunset after another long, stressful day of taking care of everyone you just wished you were alone.

—Why did you stay?—Capitano asked, you had noticed his presence long ago.

—You should rest, sir—you retorted, and apparently that bothered him.

—Do not evade my question—he gave you a warning that fell on deaf ears.

He was right, why did you stay? It was just because of something as simple as honor when your survival was in line, what else was there? A soft spot for a human who worked so close to an Archon and it's army who looked up to it could literally mean your death, yet you couldn't leave them, not when they were so fragile and you couldn't leave him, not when you felt something so heavy in your chest everytime he spoke to you or just looked your way. Even if everything on you told you to run you just couldn't.

—I don't know—you answered—perhaps I have had enough of running.

—So you were chased by someone? Tell me who or what it is and I shall deal with it—he said and you walked closer to him.

How sweet of him to tell you that, if only he knew the enemy he would have to face. Sure, he was a harbinger, and a high ranking one at that but not even him could defeat the heavenly force after your head.

—I appreciate the offer, sir, yet I worry that no human is strong enough to defeat it—you answered with sad eyes as you walked past him, it was time for you to make dinner.

After that it was already time to head back, thanks to you and the incredible healing capabilities that Capitano possessed you returned to his state before long, however you did advice him to stay still for a few more days, just to be sure.

In those days, he demanded you would always stay by his side, this time however he has two reasons: first, just in case he needed urgent medical attention and second, for security reasons, of course he had to use that excuse. So, following his orders you went wherever he went and did whatever he told you to as if you were a maid, you protested at first, questioning what would happened if someone else got hurt and that this was not the job you were hired for, to every one of your concerns he had only one answer.

—I am your employer so you do as I say.

Even if you wanted to you couldn't argue with that, how pitiful it was for someone like you to be reduced to such a position. For the first few days you thought that you disliked this job and him but as the sleepless nights arrived at the end of the day you slowly realized that your hate was misplaced and slowly you arrived to a conclusion to his question days prior, and you told him as much.

—I am tired of laying low, tired of not being able to stay in one place for too long out of fear, I don't want to have to sleep with one eye open anymore—you told him out of nowhere, yet he understood why—It is nice to not be bothered by the elements and to help people with my gift, that is why I want to thank you again for the opportunity you gave me sir.

Capitano was more than pleased with your words, he felt as light as a feather and thanked for the helmet on his head that concealed his expression. You, on the other hand, felt that familiar pressure in your chest once again as he stared at you, were you out of line for saying something like that?

—I am glad that you feel that way.

That was all he could say as he started walking, feeling as if he could slip up and say something he didn't mean if you kept looking at him with that look in your face, he felt as if he could move mountains with the confidence that you have him, he could win wars with just the right amount of wound to have you by his side all night, how pitiful of someone like him to fall so hard for someone else.

—Tomorrow I shall leave for the capital, you will remain here—he said, turning around barely to watch you nod—I wish to be alone, you are excused.

You thanked him once again and left, Capitano watched you walk away and once you turned the corner he entered his study and practically fell on his chair, one of his hands covered his mouth even with his helmet on as he tried to call himself down. His heart beat was racing and he wished for nothing more that to hold you in his arms and comfort you, now more than ever was he sure that no one else was worthy of being your knight, and tomorrow, when he arrives at the capital he would get all of the information on you he could.

The time for him to leave came shortly after and as per his request you saw him off. While on the road he noticed how the piles of snow became whiter and bigger, signaling how close he was to the capital and how close he was to being bored out of his mind in yet another meeting, if only he had a valid excuse to not go. It took quite a few hours of endless amounts of boredom to be free to do his research, which was unfortunately stopped by a redhead who seeked to spar with him, yet again.

—I am quite busy today, Tartaglia—Capitano said.

—Just a short one—Tartaglia pleaded and his superior only accepted at the sight of an opportunity to get something in return.

—Fine, I will—the other man beamed—but you will have to conduct some research on my behalf if I win.

Tartaglia accepted. Just one punch in the face was enough to knock him out for good, it was unlike Capitano to be so short fused but today was just simply not the day to mess with him.

—My loss—said the redhead defeated, holding his probably broken nose with his hand—tell me a name and I'll find everything about them.

Just now Capitano remembered he didn't know your name.

—I do not know it, but I can give you a description of them. By the time you are done with your research meet me in my office in the Zapolyarny Palace.

Capitano had to wait long before Tartaglia finally came back to him, the man seemed to have been searching non stop and with the small description he gave of you it was no wonder it took him so long. Still, he was able to find a few references onto who you might be, non of them however seemed to satisfy Capitano and before he could take it out on Tartaglia he motioned him to leave. The list he had been given contained only three names, two of them from humans who had already died long ago and one from a legend, next to it the words "access to their information if highly confidential".

—For a fatui harbinger to not be able to access such information—he wondered out loud—perhaps I should as Her Majesty the Tsaritsa.

It was risky to request an audience with her just for the sake of legends, yet he needed to know, and like the saying goes, curiosity killed the cat. For a man with his status getting an audience with Her Majesty was an easy task, just this time it took less than expected, that was probably because of the purpose of his visit, and as he walked down the frozen corridors an oppressing feeling on his gut over took him, as if this was something of extreme secrecy that no one should know or they would bear the consequences of possessing such knowledge, by the time the doors opened for him and he saw the Tsaritsa staring out the window his hands were shaking slightly, because of both the anticipation and nervousness.

—It troubles me how you know about them—spoke the Tsaritsa first while Capitano kneeled—rise—she said and Capitano followed.

—I hope this subject does not make you uncomfortable, your Highness—he said.

—It is about time I talk about them—she said as she moved to sit in a round table—sit, this will be a long story.

It's so hard to find gifs from our man, I think I'm just gonna start putting memes as headers.

Taglist: @slutaholic69 @nasidibakar @lemontum

#capitano x you #il capitano #capitano x y/n #capitano #capitano x reader #fatui harbingers #genshin #genshin impact

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takemealivelh · 6 months

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SHAKES (MV) - Luke Hemmings

I've been putting off writing this because the music video woke so many feelings in me that i'm scared to watch it again. but here i am! ready to do this essay

Starting that it's very Lost in Translation (2003) but set in the 70s is everything i could've asked for. favorite decade aesthetics, amazing movie. and i love that luke is giving nods to not only bill murray's character but also scarlett johansson's. the elevator scene is so beautiful, especially when he does that little awkward dance(?) while the camera captures the scene in front of it.

Not only this song is incredibly crafted, but the music video really surpassed my expectations. it's the best that he could've given us. you can see the effort and attention to detail and also the way it portrays loneliness makes my heart hurt. because i've been in that place. feeling like everything's so dull. feeling so empty and longing for something that you can't get. in luke's case, it's his inner child. in mine, it's the yearning for the times that i feel good.

anyway

the music video is devastating. top 3 moments

luke taking off his makeup while the song sings i wanna go out in my sleep now so i don't feel no pain. like, ARE YOU KIDDING ME? i want to cry. taking off a mask, feeling really desperate but also hopeless and too tired to function.

the final shot zooming out of the window and then the car sounds in the background when the song ends. like??? we just had this beautiful intimate experience with the production of the song and suddenly real life comes and the pain is even worse. heart aches.

not really a moment but the makeup and the clothes are AMAZING. it's very nostalgic but also modern if that makes any sense?

IN CONCLUSION

I knew luke would feed us, but i also didn't expect to be this blown away by a music video. feeling so fucking seen. when he said he hopes people can relate to it? MY MAN, I DO. the city tends to move on all the same.

i saw this post where someone pointed out when luke said he was going to therapy. and even though i'm incredibly devastated by the mv, it also works. i'm too in therapy and when you're doing a lot of stuff and there's pressure to succeed, you feel like this -again, my case. like, a shell of a ghost. feeling so much inside you're numb. and we see him fidgeting at times, which i interpret as this urge to feel normal again, hope that you look normal -not like you're life feels so exhausting.

HONORABLE MENTION

The coloring of this!!!!! very gloomy, it works perfectly

i don't know. what are your thoughts?

#luke hemmings #shakes #shakes mv #listen it took me a whole ass day to process this video and i don't think i'm yet done lksjdghfsf #boy ep #CHAPTER TWO????

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lizhly-writes · 1 year

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ohhh novel recs pretty please? favs/best of a genre/best of 2022? love your writing so what you read must be great too

Hi there.

It has been a while since you sent this. I would like you to know I didn’t ignore it -- thank you very much for your opinion of my writing, by the way! It is simply… I wanted to recommend you a lot of things. I binged to try and find some things that I could 100% recommend with my entire chest! With no stipulations! With no regret!

I only found one thing. I panicked about only having one thing, and kept trying to find more things. In retrospect, I should have gone through completed novels, because that would have stopped me from going “this was good until this one thing happened”, like I did with... several novels, but hey.

I was actually going to reread all of these just to make SURE, but if I did that, I would probably accidentally make this into a best of 2023 list, SO. Here we go.

The one novel that I will recommend with my entire chest is!!!

Demon Venerable Also Wants to Know

'Second male lead' receives copy of the shitty romance novel he lives in and immediately goes "haaaaa why the fuck am I supposed to like this female lead". He starts investigating and comes to some wild ass conclusions. Some of them utterly ridiculous! Others that show that the original shitty romance novel is not quite as brain dead as it initially seems. I like the layers to this thing, the shenanigans they get up to, I even fully like the romance in here (BL, if you were wondering), which is kind of rare for me. Also, shout out to the most interesting og female lead in this genre I've ever seen! This novel is without flaw! Without any possibility of error! I really, truly, had zero complaints. If I actually ranked this novel on novelupdates, I would give it a full 5 stars!

Honorable mentions:

100,000/Hour Professional Stand-in

This is the kind of cnovel you read if you are just so, so incredibly tired of our dear sister transmigrator getting pursued by some weird possessive CEO. Our mc is very calm, very heartless, and perfectly happy to extort so much money out of the people in love with her twin sister. The ending drags a little, and there is a romance in there which I think is unnecessary, but overall, still very good.

Zombie University

Ta-da! The zombie apocalypse happens, and our main character has get deal with it with his ex hovering uncomfortably right there in his adventuring party. I have not finished this novel, and in fact, I am not even caught up on this novel -- I believe I must have left off around chapter 30? -- but it gets a mention here because I really like survival-type stories, and furthermore, I was frankly blown away by the characters and the dynamics between them. I pawed sadly at the novelupdates page for about two weeks before I accepted that I wasn't getting an update anytime soon. AND NOW I SEE IT'S UPDATED WAY MORE SINCE THEN SO I WILL BE CHECKING THIS OUT AGAIN.

Being an Extra Actor in an Escape Game

An unlimited/infinite flow novel, in which our mc is an NPC throughout various instances, or Nightmares, as they call them. I will admit that it can get repetitive, since a lot of the time, our characters are trying to figure out what the fuck is going on and end up reiterating some points, and then our mc is in a primarily passive role -- might be frustrating to a witty reader who is very good at putting things together themselves, but I personally liked it, haha. I was admittedly not very fond of the ending, but I enjoyed the characters finding out the mysteries behind the instances, and the larger mystery made me want to claw my hands through the pages to figure out what the fuck was happening.

I Ship My Adversary X Me

Guy ends up shipping himself with his fanon adversary. I find guy really eloquent in his narration, which only helps with the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. Living in this guy's head is so fun. There is a manhua. It is cute, but read the novel, the vibes are way goofier. Uh, there is like... one nsfw scene, if I recall correctly, but it's easily skipped, if it bothers you.

When a Fanfic Protagonist Transmigrated Into The Original Novel (kinda nsfw)

Pretty much exactly what it says on the tin. This pokes fun at the tendency to warp ostensibly straight male characters into certain BL stereotypes in fanfiction. The translation is unfinished, but what was there killed me. It is really ridiculous and I love that.

Don’t Hide From Me! (also kinda nsfw no, i change my mind, it's not super explicit, but it's significantly more nsfw than the previous two up there.)

Character A plans to confess his crush on his homophobic best friend, Character B. The plot is the leadup and followup to that. Also blatantly ridiculous, because our Character B treats our Character A in what most people would consider very unplatonic ways, which confuse character A, and also me, and also everyone I liveblogged to, because I liveblogged the entirety of my reading of this on discord. Unfinished, but on this list anyway because I screamed a lot about it and shared exactly how ridiculous it was with everyone around me and ended up roping at least three people into reading with me. It was that kind of novel. If you read, I recommend reading with friends because you will want to shake someone over it. I certainly did.

#cnovel recs #asks #anon

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montanababe7 · 12 days

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Wrote this last year: A post that I am writing ✍️ from pain to refreshing clarity and wholeness through Jesus: I might be 37 in natural years; but in reality, I’ve had to be an old soul all my life.

I know there are folks out there who have grown tired. Exhausted and irritated even of hearing me speaking about me going zero contact with the woman who birthed me, go ministries international, my high school experience, cross roads college, the list is endless.

I’ve faced more traumas, heartbreaks, heartaches 💔 than most people know.

I’ve come to the conclusion that I honestly don’t even care anymore. I’m done letting those painful moments define me. Define who I am.

I’m tired of being written off by those who don’t have the slightest clue of what it’s like to be in my shoes for even one day.

Most assume. That I don’t have a care in the world. That nothing ever bothers me. I have had to learn to turn my emotions on and off. some would say this is not healthy or a good thing. For me. It’s been survival.

I’m done crying about the fact that my birth mother f’ked up my life while growing up. I’m done grieving the fact that I can’t allow that woman to have any relationship with Mike and I’s, children.

I’m trying so hard to turn my 🧠 off and just let myself feel something for once other than pain.

I’m still grieving my brother Josh Farnam’s 💀 d e a t h. I miss him. So much.

I’m done hating my mom. Or the fact that she single-handedly ruined my wedding day. She didn’t allow me to attend my little sister Kelli’s bachelorette or even attend the one my sister

Had planned for me. Not to mention, she had a p I s s po o r. Seamstress desecrate the most perfect wedding dress. The sleeves that were sewn on were not even.

Lest I remind you. My b of a mother also told me that she was betting that my husband and I, wouldn’t last for more than six months after he and I, got married.

Or the fact that my birth mother and her friend sandy were cursing mike and I‘s marriage. She one of my sil in confidence that according yo her. that I was never supposed to get married, have children, or ever have a life of my own. That I was supposed to remain by her side and be her own personal s l a v e forever.

For those of who you have a healthy mother daughter relationship with your mother. Be grateful.

It’ll be 2024 soon. Starting now. I’m ready to live my life with joy instead of pain. I can’t go back and erase what happened to me when I was younger or as a newly married bride.

What I can do though. Is move forward with my best 🦶in front of me. Not looking back at the past.

Grateful my husband has been there for me. He and I, are

Both overcomer of

So much traumas and pain.

Michael Wolf 🐺. You are a champion. I want you to know that and see that. You’ve help me to withstand and accomplish so much. We’re both healing ❤️‍🩹. Little by little. Moment by moment. Day by day.

Mikey. Baby. I want you to know that I cherish you and that I love you. The love that I

Have for

You will always be here.

We’ve seen Jesus do more

Miracles

In our lifetime far more

Than we have ever dreamed of.

The best days are ahead of us. Not behind us.

I love you. I honor you. I champion you.

I might be spitfire and 💅 at times. I can have my 🦞 out a lot. But my. Heart 💜. That heart that has been through the 💍 of

🔥 is yours alone.

You brought me out of the shell I was in. My birth mother was not right about something.

I was a 🐚 of myself while growing up.

You helped me to really live. You gave me a reason for living and you do every single day.

You are the reason Mike, our girls and I, go on each day.

You give me

Strength. You might not see it. On every moment. But. I adore you. I have

The biggest crush on you. I mean. Come on. When you wink 😉 at me. Oh baby. It takes my frickin breath away.

Yup. You are amazing.

This post was a rant that turned into a sappy love note 📝 and letter 🗒️ to you.

You are my happy place. I love you so much. Thank you for always having my back. Thank you for who you are.

I love love love love you 😘 💕 🥰 😍 Mike so very much.

Love,

Your Wife.

Jess

Jessica Wolf

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rhlyntxs · 4 months

Text

A Journey of Realizations in College

College is not only a time of success. But it also has its ups and downs. It is often the period of ourselves when we realize something and consider what we can accomplish for a better future.

College is the point in life when people can discover new hobbies, have new experiences, and reach their limits. During this period, everyone has a chance to learn more about themselves and unlock their potential. It is your chance to discover who you truly are and develop in ways that you never thought could have happened.

Before I entered college, I was an honor student, and I had no idea what college would be like. When I entered college, I was scared and shocked at the same time, as I saw how college was a whole new world to me. And I was right! I am an introverted person, and on the first day of school, I noticed everyone already had their own set of friends. And as the school year went on, I noticed that I wasn't my old self anymore, who aces almost every exam and struggles to keep up with the fast-paced environment of college. I had a lot of realizations as the days went on, some of which were:

Socializing with other people. I realized how important it is to have true friends on this journey who struggle with you with the academic challenges and provide emotional support. Having classmates who don't compete is a great help, but sad to say, we cannot avoid someone in class who doesn't compete. In college, you need to choose your friends wisely, for your mental health and academic success depend on it. Surrounding yourself with positive influences and a supportive community can make all the difference in navigating the challenges of college life.

I also learned the value of self-care and taking breaks to avoid burnout in a competitive academic environment. Doing schoolwork and studying almost every day for quizzes is very tiring. College is overwhelming sometimes, and we feel to the point that we must give up. It is okay to feel tired, but we must not give up on our future. We must not forget to take care of ourselves and be guilty about it.

Additionally, always be optimistic. In college, in order to have a not-so-problematic journey, thinking positively helps a lot. It's important to remember that everyone experiences ups and downs in college, and it's completely normal to feel overwhelmed at times. But do not let it affect you negatively. I always think that everything happens for a reason, and maintaining a positive mindset can help you overcome obstacles and grow from your experiences. Remember to prioritize self-care and seek help when needed, as taking care of your mental health is essential for success in college and beyond.

Moreover, enjoying every moment and finding joy in the little things can make your college experience more fulfilling and memorable. Enjoying it can be done through joining clubs and organizations, making new friends, exploring new interests, and taking time to relax and recharge. Remember that college is a time for personal growth and self-discovery, so make the most of it by staying positive and open to new opportunities.

Furthermore, always have faith in God. Surrender your worries. Ask for guidance, protection, healthy relationships, and success in your academic pursuits. Trusting in God can provide comfort and strength during challenging times, helping you navigate through the ups and downs of college life with grace and resilience. Remember to keep your faith strong and lean on Him for support throughout your journey.

In conclusion, college is a transformative journey that allows us to grow intellectually, socially, and personally. It is a time to embrace challenges, seize opportunities, and make memories that will last a lifetime. By cherishing every moment and making the most of our college experience, we can emerge as empowered individuals ready to tackle the world beyond graduation.

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ifollowtotheedge · 9 months

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I am not sure where to begin. I should be doing a million other things right now. My dog is barking like crazy at tractor trailers and I can't get her to calm down. I hope no one reads this.

I guess I want to start with I am not good at writing and I would like to improve. But for today I am just going to let my thoughts wonder I am not even going to proof read this or fix it.

I want to start this blog in hopes to forget my unrequited love interest. I have been to therapy, I am 30 years old. I have had every rational thought/conversation run through my head to get over this. "he couldn't love you like you deserve" "he wants different things from his life" "he was distant" " he ran away from you" "you have someone in your life who loves you" " you have a great a great life" " you are putting him up on a pedestal" " he is just a memory of a more carefree time in your life"

The thing is I am in a long term relationship, so it feels shitty to admit this as a supposedly mature adult. I have been in two long term relationships throughout my 20s . I currently live with my partner in a house and we have a very cute pitbull. I have a successful career. I am overall content, don't get my wrong. But this other man pops into my head occasionally and his ghost hasn't left me alone for the past 11 years.

Therapist and other people will tell me that it is because something is wrong with my current partner. Here is the thing. I don't believe that. For a while I did. I broke up with my first boyfriend around 26 because I told myself he wasn't good for me. He wasn't. He went away every weekend. He was manipulative etc. I am too tired to rehash that relationship right now. But I found in the period I was single for 2 years before my current partner that I found no one will make me forget him. I went on a lot of dates. Ironically, I reconnected with HIM ( I need a way to distinguish my unrequited love interest name because I am not going to use real names). We meet where HE was living at the time and he was also recently single. We kissed for a long time. It was a good kiss. A great kiss. Several kisses. And then I went home. And then HE promised to visit and then never did. HE ran like he always does. I don't deserve that. I know that.

Eventually I came to the conclusion I have a tendency to like men who don't like me back and are distant. I rationally decided to choose a man who did. A nice man. A smart man. A funny man. A stable man. I ended up with my current partner. He is my best friend. And I depend on him for a lot (financial, friendship, house maintenance/responsibilities). And I do love him and my dog.

I don't plan to break up with him over a whim. I am maturing but I still get this sense that if I was completely open and honest to people about the fact every 3 months (or whatever) I stop and fantasize about HIM. But it is more than that. I remember the way HE made me feel, and the nostalgia that comes with it.

If anyone is reading this, you probably feel pissed with me. I feel pissed with myself at least. The honorable thing to do would to be to break up with my current partner and most likely be alone. But at this point in my life, I am a coward. I fear being alone. I still believe that my life would be better as is than leaving someone on a whim. Let's face it relationships are messy.

However, I do think my partner deserves my full attention and commitment . I want to be that person and I hope I can overcome HIM. I just haven't figured out how yet. It doesn't matter all the rational thoughts I can tell myself I haven't figured it out.

Hell, If I met HIM today I probably wouldn't even like HIM. who knows. I am in love with his ghost. If we ended up together it would end in heartbreak and loss. maybe HE knew something I didn't. Maybe it should stay perfect the way it was.

I guess writing about this is my last attempt to figure this shit out.

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ddarker-dreams · 3 years

Text

Deep Sea III. Yan Scaramouche x F Reader

>Rating: Mature. >Warnings: Yandere themes, amnesia, manipulation, depictions of anxiety. >Word count: 5k. >Deep Sea Index.

CHAPTER III // DANCE AMONGST CORAL REEFS

“Heading out so soon, General Kujou?”

Kujou Sara, the most stalwart follower of the Raiden Shogun and semi-frequent patron of Shinju-an, acknowledges your passing with a curt nod. She walks in the opposite direction of where you’re headed — the innermost room your establishment offers. It boasts privacy and opulence beyond what the common folk could expect, lined pockets or not. Status is the precursor necessary to enter.

“Unfortunately, I am,” Sara stops long enough to entertain you. “My father is meeting with an esteemed individual. I’m afraid I can't be present for the negotiations.”

How strange, you think. Is Sara’s high military ranking not enough to grant her access to this conversation? You were looking forward to her company. Nonetheless, what you want doesn’t change the fact that you’re here to work.

“And here I thought you were running away since I was the one preparing the tea.”

Sara’s serious composure falters for the briefest second. Then, noticing that you’re only teasing, she coughs into her hand. This is why her presence delights you so. She makes for a fun person to play around with.

“If the quality even closely resembles your abilities as a performer, then I’m certain it’s top-notch. Another time? After your erikae, perhaps?”

“So long as your schedule allows it. I’ll be preparing diligently until that day, General.”

The corners of her lips quirk into a smile. She excuses herself and you observe the tengu mask attached to her head, from the glaring red shade to the long slope of its nose. Your breath hitches in your throat and you fix your gaze ahead. The imagery associated with tengu should invoke awe-inspiring reverence, yet your stomach feels like a bottomless pit at the sight. Falling, falling, falling. You shake your head.

There’s no time to fixate on these peculiar matters — your job for the night isn’t finished.

You were informed by Ishioka that after your dance’s conclusion, you’re to head back and briefly entertain Kujou Takayuki and his guest at his request. Under normal conditions, appointments with distinguished customers could last for hours, so it came as a relief to know that wouldn’t be the case.

Closing the curtain early after today’s events sounds perfectly fine to you. An appointment at the Kamisato Estate, witnessing a robbery, explaining your tardiness to an irate Ishioka, then still finding the energy to perform… you imagine the soft fabric of your futon wrapping around you and never letting go.

The closer you get to the room far in the back Kujou Takayuki reserved, the more you happen to catch the storm brewing inside.

“We are diligently gathering the materials you’ve requested, my lord, but the tatarigami has impeded our progress—”

“Can that tongue of yours do anything besides making lackluster excuses? I tire of hearing them.”

That voice, the demanding lilt and air of stifling superiority… it could only belong to one man. Scaramouche, the traveling pest who stuck his nose in your business and made a general nuisance of himself. You’re mindful of each subsequent step you take, putting special care into padding over the floor silently. This is the same technique you employ when you sneak out of the okiya at night. No one, not even the astute Ishioka, is able to discern your presence when you do this. It’s as if you became obscured from this world itself.

“The men I’ve hired to collect crystal marrow either come back in body bags, or uttering pure lunacy. Not even the natives in Jakotsu Mine are able to withstand the infectious onslaught. Please… we require more time.”

What business does Scaramouche have with the leader of Inazuma’s Tenryou Commission? More importantly, how can he dominate the discussion while Kujou Takayuki cowers away like a kicked puppy? The patriarch of the honorable Kujou clan is many things, but timid isn’t one of them.

The owners of Jakotsu’s Mine were regulars here for some time. That is, until a mysterious illness seeped into Yashiori Island’s populace like a thick fog that refused to dissipate. Ever since then, their income sharply declined, and you saw them around less and less. The price of crystal marrow has shot up astronomically since the mine’s closure. How much money did Scaramouche have at his disposal?

You know it’s impolite to eavesdrop, especially if this is the conversation Kujou Sara was barred from hearing, but your interest is piqued. You’ll listen just a bit more and then announce your arrival. No other staff members come this far back since this room is touted for its privacy. You needn’t worry about anyone catching you in the act.

“That wasn’t the tune you were singing when you accepted my money,” Scaramouche sounds clearer the closer you get, “Besides, what does it matter to me if your men die? Hire more and be done with it.”

Silence suffocates the room while both you and Takayuki digest the bitterness Scaramouche spewed. You saw his disregard toward human life today firsthand, but this is a different caliber. Indifference for the sake of indifference. He wasn’t just trying to utilize negotiation tactics to get what he wants; he genuinely can’t bring himself to understand why people dying might present an issue.

“How about we discuss this at a later time, my lord? The entertainer I requested for us should be here any second now. I heard through the grapevine that you’d taken a particular interest in this girl. She’s a lovely specimen, isn’t she?”

Is that what people are saying? You scrunch your nose up at the implication. It was more like he’d taken an interest in tormenting you.

You hear Scaramouche let out something akin to laughter. “Lovely, huh? That’s one way to describe her, yes. Lovely… and made for me.”

His proclamation is like the rumble of thunder before lightning strikes. There’s a lapse in your concentration and you take an unsteady step backward — causing an old floorboard to groan. Every muscle in your body goes taut as you wait in for the gates of discord to open and rain terror down upon you.

They’ll slide open the screen at any second. You’ll be confronted, judged, then sentenced for hearing what was never meant for your ears. A hush falls over the men and you squeeze your eyes shut.

You wait and wait, but damnation never comes.

Their talk resumes, though when you hear the contents, you almost wish it didn’t.

“Someone is smitten, my lord. Are those wedding bells ringing in the future that I hear? It’s best to snag them while they’re still a maiko; less scandal that way.”

Revulsion tastes acidic on your tongue at Takayuki’s suggestion. Marriage? Getting ‘snagged’ away? You’d sooner fling yourself back into the raging ocean than allow that to become of you. Scaramouche’s choice of words refuses to sink into your mind the same way it had for Takayuki. It could be misconstrued as an intention to marry, but completing the puzzle in such a way omits certain pieces. Made implied something far more concrete and premeditated.

You don’t like it either way.

That statement must’ve been below what even Scaramouche could acknowledge, as he offers no reply.

After taking a deep breath to calm your nerves, you enter the room, the tatami beneath your feet soft compared to the hallway’s wooden flooring.

Rooms curated for tea ceremonies are simple on purpose, bringing peace to the minds of those present. There’s a single scroll adorning the wall with calligraphy written in perfect precision, and below it, chabana that were meticulously arranged down to the petal.

“Art takes many more forms than just painting or writing,” Keiko once told you during your training. “There is art everywhere around you. What you need, and what I’ll try to teach you, is how to notice it. Young people might find this manner of living tedious or old-fashioned, but is there not beauty to be found if you only take the time to look?”

Keiko made tea ceremonies appear elegant and effortless, like swans drifting along the river bend. What you can’t see, however, is how hard they paddle beneath the surface to stay afloat. The first time you mimicked her instruction proved the act far more complex than you expected. Too hasty, and you’ll break the meditative state meant to be achieved while participating in the ceremony. Too slow, and you risk ruining the quality of the tea by allowing the water to get cold.

It took time, practice, and reflection for you to understand what Keiko sought to teach you: balance.

How you’re supposed to maintain balance in the presence of Scaramouche, whose keen eyes scrutinize your every movement, you wish you knew. You feel the slightest trembling in your hand as you wipe down the various tools necessary for the tea ceremony. This too is meant to be a part of the ceremony, not mindless cleaning to rush to the main event.

Indigo bores into the side of your face and your thoughts are set loose like a pack of rabid dogs, scampering in all directions, wreaking havoc, and sparing no one.

He knows. He heard you. He’s watching you.

Gingerly, you set the tea whisk beside the tea bowl. You can get through this. You’ve practiced this process for the past three years of your life. The steps — what are the steps again? Are you supposed to pour the matcha inside the bowl now? Did you remember to clean the tea ladle? When did your heartbeat grow so loud, that you could no longer hear the whistle of the water boiling?

“Made for me.”

You take the tea ladle and submerge the bowl in hot water from the iron pot to cleanse it of impurities. Balance, balance. Everything is about balance. The steam rising from the water should make your hand feel damp, yet you feel nothing. Discard the water. Clean the bowl with the hemp cloth. You don’t want to be here. Set the bowl down. Pick up the tea scoop and tea jar. You don’t belong here. Place the matcha powder into the bowl. Ladle in the water. You’re supposed to be somewhere else.

Some things are better left forgotten. Some things are better left forgotten. Some things are better left forgotten.

Whisk, whisk, whisk; you whisk the matcha and the water and watch them become one. Green, frothy, pale, just like the ocean’s depths. Scalding water splashes against your skin. It doesn’t hurt and neither do you.

“—Suzuko? Are you alright?”

Takayuki’s tentative question brings you from the abyssal depths of your mind.

“Ah, yes,” you abruptly stop whisking. You’re no longer floating — you’re on solid ground. The matcha tea should still be good to serve. You stand from your seiza style of sitting in a single motion. Then, you turn to face your two patrons. Kujou Takayuki to the right and Scaramouche to the left. Apprehension swells in your chest upon realizing a single, striking detail; you don’t know who to serve first.

In tea ceremony, you, the host, were to serve the main guest first, then dutifully repeat the process and make tea for the remaining guests. They had both been served their wagashi by the time you arrived. You blink at the realization. They were served wagashi in advance? Distributing the dessert was meant to be your job as the tea ceremony’s host. The sweetness complimented the bitterness of the freshly brewed matcha tea.

Scaramouche plops a maple leaf-shaped higashi into his mouth and smiles.

He ordered them in advance to throw you off-kilter.

Do you serve Kujou Takayuki, head of the Tenryou Commission first, or Scaramouche, a man of unknown rank who wears the mitsudomoe emblem upon his chest? It would be considered a slight to choose incorrectly. The main guest is determined by whoever holds the higher social status. What is Scaramouche’s status? You know of his wealth and nothing else. Takayuki did refer to him as ‘my lord’, but as Scaramouche said, Inazuma is a nation of politeness.

So which is it?

You place the tea bowl onto the tatami.

Scaramouche’s eyes widen, then narrow, though he refrains from speaking the venom likely lingering in his mouth. You’ve chosen to serve a surprised Takayuki first. He manages to get out a choked ‘thank you’ before indulging in your matcha. You return to your sitting position and wipe off the tea ladle once more.

The tea ceremony comes to a conclusion and the both of them move to leave.

Takayuki stands by the door, awaiting his companion, who has been noticeably silent. He slides his indoor shoes back on while Scaramouche glowers down at you.

“I’ll meet you by the entrance,” Scaramouche tells him. Takayuki spares you something of a pitiful glance, then nods, making himself scarce. The second he’s gone, Scaramouche makes his way over toward you. His footsteps make no sound despite his aggravated approach. You remember how you hadn’t picked up on his presence when confronted by the nobushi earlier and realize he’s in a league of his own.

He places his index finger beneath your chin and lifts it up.

You bristle at the contact, your eyes meeting his in a wordless rebuke. Patrons were never supposed to lay their hands upon maiko or geisha. You were not an oiran, or any of the rankings below them, and this could be distinguished by how your obi was tied. Oiran tied their obi in the front, geisha tied their obi in the back. To prevent tensions between the two businesses from forming, the Tenryou Commission ordered this and more so as not to create confusion, since oiran were established before geisha.

His lack of regard for the rules extends further than you thought.

“An unmarried man touching an unmarried woman like this is cause for controversy, is it not?”

“If that’s the case, then why not raise a fuss? Go on. Call your owner to you and save yourself the indecency.”

“Indecency…” you repeat the word back to him, “Is that what this is to you? Is that how you’d describe your attitude toward me? I thought you were perhaps misguided, if not ignorant to the feelings of others. You’ve proven me wrong. What you lack isn’t humanity; it’s a heart altogether.”

Darkness swirls within his eyes and he grins.

“Hah. You speak as if you have one yourself.”

He leans down, his face nearing yours, separated by a few measly inches. You feel his warm breath against your face and the electricity pulsating in his veins.

“I, for one, am glad you happened to overhear me earlier,” he returns your glare with one of equal ferocity, “Engrain it into that selective mind of yours. I’ll forgive your mad rambling, because we both know the real reason why you wouldn’t dare call for help. You know whose side they would take.”

For a moment, you swear his eyes drop down to your lips, then back up.

Scaramouche relinquishes his grip and turns around, leaving you shaking and breathless.

“You are nothing to them no matter how much you delude yourself otherwise. The moment you are no longer of use to someone, they abandon you; such is the nature of humans and gods alike. Consider it a kindness that I’m telling you this.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you retaliate, your exasperation growing. “I trust the people that I work alongside. Whatever it is you think you know, you’re wrong. They took me in when I had nothing. Gave me a job, a home, a purpose. I’m happy with how things are. Think whatever you want, but that’s the truth.”

He narrows his eyes, his disbelief evident. “Even though you know nothing of your past?”

“Even then,” you reaffirm without hesitation. “I don’t care about any of that. So if you thought you could come in here, and dangle that over me, think again. You’ll be waiting for a very long time, my lord.”

“Spoken like a true idealist.”

The callback to your earlier conversation makes you further convinced to not back down.

“Very well. I thought I could do you a favor and save you some heartbreak, but if you’re so eager to get hurt, then by all means. When the day comes that you’re willing to see reason…”

He smiles with his eyes.

“... I’ll be waiting.”

Misato isn’t waiting for you in the way you expected.

The scene in front of you is almost surreal, like a mirage that refuses to go away no matter how many times you wipe your eyes.

She’s laying down in a mess of blankets, a wet rag on her forehead, grumbling and unable to stay still. By her side is Keiko, who attempts to pacify her distress by humming lullabies. Your knees almost buckle as your brain tries to understand what it sees. Her complexion is pallid, her long strands of hair stick against her perspiring skin, and her soft groans fill the air.

“A fever,” Keiko informs after hearing you gasp. “The doctor just stopped by a few minutes earlier. Her temperature is high, but it shouldn’t be life-threatening. He prescribed some herbs and said she needs to stay in bed. He’ll be back in the morning to check on her condition.”

Misato did tell you that she felt faint earlier. You guessed it was because of her late-night study habits, but this… how could you have missed this? Why didn’t you insist on her coming back to the okiya with you? You drop by her side, brushing her stray hair back into place. Herbs and bed rest. The doctor couldn’t have done less if he tried.

“Okā-san, please, let me go and bring him back. Anyone could see that she needs more care than what he said. She’s… she’s burning up! How long has she been like this?”

“She collapsed shortly after returning from her appointment at Konda Village,” The wrinkles beneath Keiko’s eyes grow pronounced by the candle flickering shadows across her weary visage, “Ishioka had raised her voice over… some delicate matter. I heard a thump and came running to see Misato had fainted.”

Ishioka might be stern, but you don’t think you’ve ever heard her yell. She was able to command respect without losing her calm. All it took for her to silence a chattering room was a single look. What could Misato have done to earn Ishioka’s wrath? Misato had dedicated her entire life to the okiya. She worked twice as hard as anyone else, without ever raising a complaint. Indignation burns down your throat like the boiling hot tea you drank earlier.

You told Ishioka everything about what had happened to you both. The robbery, the swords, the corpses. What possessed the woman to take her pent-up frustration out on your sweet younger sister? A midlife crisis?

“Oh, Misato,” you wipe the remnants of her oshiroi makeup off using your sleeve, unsure of what else to do. “I was a foolish big sister, wasn’t I? I should’ve brought you home, no matter what you said. Of course you wouldn’t be okay after seeing that… what was I thinking…?”

Misato stirs at the sound of your voice. She tries to lift herself up, but her muscles give out halfway, and she falls back onto the ground. You hold her in place so that she doesn’t try to overexert herself again.

Then, she murmurs something resembling your name. You lean in closer to hear her better.

“Be… careful.”

Her voice is fragile enough that it’d be overpowered by the slightest breeze, yet she soldiers on, determined for you to hear her warning. “That man… he’s a Harbinger.”

“Huh? A Harbinger? What is that?” You scrunch your eyebrows together. Your limited knowledge of the world consists of what you’ve been able to study in the past three years, almost all of it having to do with Inazuma. The way she phrased it makes it sound like this ‘Harbinger’ is a title or creature of sorts. Misato is in no state to further explain, so you look to Keiko, who swallows thickly. Something passes over her face and she interjects.

“[First], dearest, let’s allow Misato to rest. She’s not herself right now. I doubt she even knows what she’s saying.”

Misato squeezes your hand with force you didn’t think she possessed. “I’m sorry… I’m really, really sorry…”

You shush her and give your most convincing smile. “What are you apologizing for, silly? I should be the one apologizing. From now on, I’ll take care of you just as much as you’ve taken care of me. That’s what family is for, right?”

“Family…” She repeats the word as if she were in a trance. Instead of soothing her like you intended, she grows hysterical, thrashing herself left and right. Her pupils have become dilated, her vocal cords sounding raspier as she crawls along the floor in a miserable slump. Your eyes widen and you exchange glances with Keiko, who is in a similar state of shock. Misato drags herself against the ground, rubbing her skin raw in the process, hellbent on reaching the vanity in your room.

Her hand reaches out for the bottom-most drawer and you snap into action.

“I’m going to get the doctor,” you yell, informing Keiko. She nods, unable to vocalize a response, and you’re running out of the room within seconds. Your feet pad noisily against the ground as your legs carry you as fast as they can. The room feels long and like it’s shrinking around you. Down the hallway, to the left, down the stairs. Fellow geisha raise their complaints about the commotion yet you barely register their voices.

The door leading to the hanamachi district comes into sight. If you’re lucky, you’ll be able to find the doctor fast, then bring him back to aid Misato—

“Where do you think you’re going? It’s past curfew.”

Ishioka, whose office is beside the okiya’s main entryway, obscures your path and crosses her arms. You come to a halt. Had you stopped any later, you would’ve crashed right into her. Now that you’re able to study her expression, you almost wish you did. Her lips are weighed down by a heavy frown, her thin eyebrows knitting together, and her nostrils flaring. She drums her fingers against her arm.

“Well? I believe I asked you a question,” her tone cuts through your delirium like a knife.

“Misato’s condition started to worsen,” you explain, out of breath and holding back your simmering frustration, “I was going to get the doctor and come right back. It won’t take long.”

At the mention of Misato’s health, her features soften, and she sighs. “I’ll send someone to fetch him. You, on the other hand, need to stay put. Please sit and wait for me in my office. I will be with you shortly.”

Your fingers twitch by your side. If it were any other day, any other circumstance, you’d immediately bend and do as you were told. Rules were set in place for a reason. They weren’t meant to punish you, rather, they were intended to guide you along the correct path. This is what you’ve accepted during your tenure here. You might sometimes teeter along the line of what you should or shouldn’t do, but you’ve never once outright defied Ishioka’s orders.

Something that’s laid dormant in your heart begins to rear its head.

Calm down, you think. What matters now is seeing that Misato is properly attended to. Ishioka wouldn’t allow a maiko she’s invested in for almost a decade to succumb to illness.

You sit on a cushion in her office and begin the wait. Minutes pass, and in that time, you overhear the doctor exchanging muffled conversation with Ishioka. The scene of Misato’s outburst replays in your head over and over again. Was it a fever dream haunting her? Or something else? A single word in particular sticks out to you — Harbinger. The way it rolled off her tongue welcomed dread into the atmosphere. Keiko had visibly reacted yet immediately dismissed Misato’s claims as ravings.

Whatever the word meant, you didn’t know who to consult further.

Ishioka slides the shoji door open and closes it behind her. You whip your head around, expectant over any news she might carry.

“Misato is stable,” she reassures, taking a seat on the cushion in front of you. “There’s no need to worry yourself over her health any further.”

Your shoulders relax and you exhale shakily.

“As for the matter I called you in for…”

Ishioka pulls out the velvet pouch from earlier. She unties the top, then sets it upside down, until a cascade of various stones come piling out onto the tatami. Your heart drops to your stomach alongside each new thud in the cacophony. She studies your facial expression closely and says nothing until the pouch is empty of its incorrect contents.

“I know—”

She raises her hand and your jaw clamps shut.

“I sent out my personal connections to the area you claimed the robbery occurred,” Ishioka pinches the bridge of her nose. “They found nothing. No bodies, tattered clothes, or marks to show they’d been dragged elsewhere.”

Your ears start to ring. This is no doubt what Misato was confronted about earlier — Ishioka thinks you both lied and stole the okiya’s payment. Cold sweat begins to build along your forehead and your tongue goes dry as sandpaper. You know Thoma put Mora into the pouch, you saw it with your own eyes; felt impatient over how long he was taking. It wasn’t in his character to swindle you.

There was only one other individual present who handled that pouch.

“It’d be a shame to return to your owner empty-handed.”

Misato’s warped voice echoes within your subconscious.

Harbinger.

This goes beyond a client pushing his boundaries. You’ve dealt with men of high status who occasionally get inappropriate. Allowing their hands to wander if they’ve drunk too much sake, asking borderline demeaning questions, or just making a general nuisance of themselves. In each instance, you managed to successfully navigate the problem until the blight burned itself out. Your gut tells you that this tactic won’t work this time. Someone capable of taking human lives and kicking their corpses around like ragdolls, making demands of the Tenryou Commission’s very own leader, who knew about a past you’ve wanted nothing to do with.

He said that he was waiting for you and you were determined to make him wait forever. He’s wrong in what he said — he spoke like a bitter child who never experienced the joy of playing with others.

“I understand how bad this looks, but please, you’ve got to believe me. It’s just as I told you. Lord Scaramouche must’ve wanted to avoid entanglements with the police, and had a hand in it!”

Ishioka sets the pouch aside. “I don’t want to think two of my own maiko are lying over an issue this severe. If what you told me is true… then perhaps it’s for the best no such incriminating evidence exists. Our name could be tarnished if rumors over what happened were to spread.”

“Then… why…?”

“Today served as a wake-up call for me,” Ishioka looks you in the eye. “[First]. Let’s say that you were to happen upon an unprocessed stone. Though the edges are rough, and the color faded, you see glimmers of something special within. Gemstones that could shine brighter than the sun, with the proper treatment and care. Is it fair to assume you’d try to chip through the layers, so that you could obtain the treasure within?”

You nod. Numbness begins to set in as you sense this heading in a direction you desperately wish to avoid.

“I view you in much the same way. A raw gem that, for years, I’ve sought to refine myself. However… I’m beginning to wonder if I have the proper tools to do so.”

Ishioka’s hand, calloused from years of labor, cradles your cheek. “I’ve tried many methods. I was strict on you for a time — I’m sure you remember. Then, when I felt that wasn’t doing any good, I loosened up. Allowed you to get away with some mischief if it meant you’d become wiser for it. I thought I had what it takes to make you shine, but I was fooling myself.”

“Sensei, I-I don’t understand.”

“I’m asking if you still wish to become a geisha. Can you look me in the eyes and say that’s what you want?”

“It is,” you rush to confirm, your lower lip beginning to tremble. “I’m sorry for being a handful, I’ll take things more seriously now. I promise. I can do better.”

“Someone who lives to please others will be cursed to always disappoint themselves, [First],” she shakes her head. “I’m not expecting an answer immediately. Think over it for a few days, then we can pick up on this conversation again. How does that sound?”

Ishioka phrases it like a question, but you know better. Her mind is made up. Nothing that you say now will make a difference. You doubt you’d be able to verbalize anything convincing in your current state anyway. Why is all of this happening to you? These seeds of doubt that are being sown sprout one after the other. You thought you found a clear direction to take, an idyllic path that’d lead you far away from the past, whatever it may have been.

You had your little sister, your job, exciting ways to fill each day; what was Ishioka seeing that you were blind to?

As the world you’ve painstakingly built for yourself these past three years threatens to crack and collapse, you speak the only word you can think to say.

“Okay.”

#scaramouche x reader #yandere scaramouche x reader #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #deep sea #my stuff

320 notes · View notes

sxlver-sweet · 3 years

Note

Oh oh oh!!

Can i request angry/souhya with a f!reader?

Hm, maybe she just comes to his house one day and instead of going out on a date they stay in his room? Maybe talking about past stories and such!! Maybe theres a movie on but Reader is too busy talking abt smth while playing with his hair? And souyas head is on her chest?

Idk i just- i just rlly want him to be happy and- maybe shy? Idk i love him your honor 🚶🚶

Headcanons plz!!

— STAYING IN <3

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ROSTER . . . souya kawata

SYNOPSIS . . . there’s been a slight change of plans, but maybe it’s not the worst…

CONTAINS . . . n/a

NOTE . . . i love him too SKDKCMSA. i also wasn’t sure how to make it strictly headcanons, so i just broke up a scenario into bullet points. i hope that works for you!!

when you show up, fuming, at the kawata household and spot scratches on nahoya’s face while he’s busy flinging a tarp over his bike, you immediately let yourself inside and, after arming yourself with the first-aid kit you find in the kitchen, head straight to souya’s room.

you already know two things. one, you know that souya would never ditch you without texting you ahead of time to arrange a rain check; and two, you know that there wasn’t a brawl scheduled for tonight. putting two and two together, you arrive at the conclusion that they most likely got jumped. it soothes the temper that’d been brewing in your chest ever since souya failed to show up to pick you up for dinner, and it makes you feel less upset about having gotten dolled up for essentially no reason.

so, you aren’t angry when you find souya in his room scrutinizing the cuts on his face in the mirror. upon seeing you in your cute, little outfit and meticulously applied makeup, his eyes round with horror as he remembers the date he was supposed to take you on. his face flushes with shame and he stumbles over his words in an attempt to apologize profusely, but you shut him down with an understanding smile as you hold up the first-aid kit you’d swiped.

“how about we stay in tonight?” you suggest. “i’m kind of tired, anyway.”

how he managed to land you, he doesn’t know.

“you look pretty.”

you pause at souya’s compliment, glancing over your shoulder from placing the first-aid kit on his dresser. he’s still sitting on the bed, all patched up and hands firmly gripping the blanket strewn across the mattress as he keeps his eyes trained on yours. his gaze is apologetic, and it falls back to the floor after a few moments. “i’m sorry that we didn’t go on that date. i really am. those guys just… they came out of nowhere, and--”

“souya, it’s alright, really.” you shake your head. “it wasn’t your fault.”

“but you…” he frets, “got all dressed up, and…”

“and,” you cut him off with a grin, “now we’re alone, and i get to have you all to myself.” you extend your arms above you in a long stretch, whining in relief when you feel your cramped muscles relax. “besides, we can always go out to dinner another night. what happened tonight was out of your control, love. don’t stress about it.”

however, you didn’t realize exactly how much energy the walk to souya’s house had sapped from you until you were laying on souya’s bed, head propped up on a couple pillows while you waited for him to return with the laptop he’d recently disappeared to look for. you two had settled on watching a movie to compensate for the hiccup in your plans. this was probably better, anyway, given how awkward and reserved souya is when showing affection or getting too close to you in public. beneath the public eye, souya’s movements are mechanical and stiff and hesitant, almost as if he fears that he’ll be shot dead on the spot or made fun of for even holding your hand. but, in private, it’s a different story. he’s still shy and a bit uncertain about where and when it’s acceptable to touch you, and he may squirm a bit, but he never rejects you. he feels free to test the waters and push his limits in the solitude of his own home with you and you alone.

you pull the hoodie you’d snatched from souya’s closet up over your nose, basking in the familiar scent of cotton and fabric softener. you close your eyes and are shocked when you feel your consciousness already beginning to fade. damn, maybe you are actually pretty tired. you’re only snapped back to the present when souya returns with the laptop in hand.

“do you want to watch forrest gump?” souya asks, his rare neutral expression awash in the pale light of the laptop screen as he scrolls through a number of different shows. “i’ve never seen it, but nahoya says it’s funny--” upon glancing up to gauge your reaction, he freezes when he sees you all bundled up in his sweatshirt, eyes fluttering sleepily as you listen to him. he scratches at his ear and turns his attention back to the screen. you smile beneath the neck of the sweatshirt when you spot the reddened tips of his ears. “are you too tired? do you want me to take you home? i mean--you can stay if you want. you don’t have to leave.”

“souya, i walked my ass all the way over here,” you laugh lightly, “i’m staying.” you open your arms to him, beckoning him forth. “here, come lay down. it’s been a while since i’ve braided your hair, anyway.”

you snicker at the wince that flickers over his features, but are surprised when he acquiescently sets the laptop on the bed in front of you and kneels on the edge of the bed. “souya, i was kidding.”

he stops so fast that it isn’t even funny. his hands are braced on the mattress next to your thigh, and he’s now staring at you with round, perplexed eyes. after a moment, realization sparks in his gaze. he blinks rapidly and shuffles off the bed to stand back up. “oh… yeah, of course. sorry…” he starts to retreat as he turns his attention to literally anywhere but you.

“wait, what? what are you--” oh, shit. “no, no!” you bolt up so quickly that your hood falls back. you make a grab for souya’s wrist, and you feel your stomach twist when you notice his pulse thrumming swiftly beneath your skin. “that wasn’t what i meant! i meant that i wasn’t going to braid your hair.” you reassure him. “i know that your scalp is sensitive and that it hurts when i pull too hard. that’s what i was joking about. i still want you to lay here with me.”

at first, all souya does is blink slowly, turquoise irises skipping over every aspect of your features in an attempt to figure out if you’re being serious. when you tug on his wrist with a pleading glimmer in your eyes, he nods silently and obeys. his movements are awkward and a bit strained, but you can tell from the determined yet cautious glint in his eye and the way his eyes keep flitting back to you that he’s just doing his best to guarantee that he doesn’t make you uncomfortable.

but you stop him again with a hand on his arm. “no, wait.” you scoot upward so that your torso is slightly elevated by the pillows, the crown of your head supported by souya’s wooden headboard. “lay your head on my chest. i still want to play with your hair.”

souya pauses, entire face flushed with a startlingly vibrant hue of red that you haven’t seen before. “that’s…” his eyes fall to your chest before darting back up to your reassuring smile. he swallows hard. “are you sure?”

“yep,” you nod.

he still doesn’t move. “really sure?”

“yes, i’m sure, souya.” your eyebrows furrow in concern. “do you not want to? sorry, i didn’t--”

“no! no,” souya shakes his head. he lowers his eyes. “i do... it’s just... i’ve never—”

you coo at the hesitance in his voice. “you know you’re allowed to touch me, souya. i’m your girlfriend.” without waiting for his response, you reach out and wrap your arms around his neck. he displays no resistance when you pull him down to rest his head on your chest, but you can still feel the nervous heat radiating from his skin when your knuckle accidentally brushes along his jaw. a distance remains between the rest of your bodies, and judging by the prominent vein appearing on his neck, he’s also sparing you the full weight of his head.

you don’t comment on it, deciding not to push him too far out of his comfort zone. you’ve done your part. now, it’s up to him whether or not he indulges in the embrace you’ve offered to him. you’re relieved when the movie starts and the script fills the heavy silence that’s fallen between you and your boyfriend. your hand naturally finds its way to souya’s hair, your fingertips slowly sliding up the nape of his neck and along his scalp. your ministrations elicit a small sigh of contentment from the recipient, and your gaze softens with relief when you notice the weight of his head starting to increase.

about half an hour into the movie, your eyes have glazed over and you’re starting to piece together why a public disturbance like nahoya found the movie amusing. souya shifts against you, and you automatically lift your hand from his head in case he’s decided to go somewhere.

but, instead, souya merely rearranges his position. no words are exchanged as he flips onto his stomach and scoots closer to you. he throws a limp arm over your waist, hand curling around the curve of your hip to pull you closer in a bold move. his neck muscles finally relax, and he rests the full weight of his head atop your chest. when he turns his head away from the movie, you see that his eyes are closed, a couple unintelligible mumbles drifting from his lips as he snuggles deeper into your embrace. the borderline permanent snarl that always contorts his features has been tempered into an expression of neutrality by the hypnotic lull of fatigue. the creases of his forehead have smoothed and the vein that adorns his cheek has vanished. making the dark circles of fatigue that ring his eyes far more discernible. you click your tongue softly and comb your fingers through his hair with a hum of understanding. looks like he’s even more exhausted than me.

without his naturally angry countenance, he looks so innocent that you nearly chuckle out loud. you’ve always known that souya yearned for affection, but you didn’t expect his desires to manifest right now. although, you suppose it makes some semblance of sense, considering how tired he is and how busy his night has been.

“are you comfortable?” you ask softly, a tinge of laughter ringing in your tone.

he nods sleepily against you. “‘m tired…” he mumbles. “tell me a story.”

you’re more than happy to oblige, so you begin recounting an incident that occurred a little over a week ago. you and hina had ventured into a gift shop, unaware that it was actually closed but the owner had merely forgotten to lock the door. souya hums in acknowledgement every now and then, a couple small giggles slipping from his lips to prove that he’s still listening. in reality, he finds the vibrations that buzz in your chest whenever you speak incredibly soothing. when they’re paired with the simple, rhythmic thump of your heartbeat and the gentle caresses of your fingers as they glide through his blue curls, souya’s positive that he’s never felt so relaxed. he’s never felt so comfortable. movie be damned, his mind has now blocked out everything except for your voice.

“and then, the cops showed up. apparently, hina tripped the sensor when we first walked in. she started crying because she felt so bad about it. i felt bad, too, but she came so undone over something so small that it made me crack up on the spot. the owner came and cleared everything up in the end, though.” you conclude with a grin. you lightly tap his cheek with a finger. “what about you? do you have any stories to share?”

when you don’t receive a response, you crane your neck to sneak a peek at his face. souya is currently knocked the fuck out, face slack and body motionless except for the gradual rising and falling of his chest. his hands loosely grip the material of the sweatshirt you borrowed, and the top of his head is slotted comfortably beneath your chin as he slumbers, courtesy of the deeply rooted longing for physical contact that he tries so hard to pretend doesn’t exist. you’re not sure why he so adamantly denies it. in fact, you like this clingy aspect of his personality quite a lot.

you press a kiss to the top of his curls, rubbing soothing circles on his back.

“sleep tight, souya.”

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