#just in case I haven’t shared this treasure… I think about it often

[pixlerelish]

[whinlatter]

Hello,

(Apologies in advance for my poor English - it's my third language) I want to say how excellent your stories are, particularly Orchards and Beasts. They're both favorites of mine and I reread them often. You're so skilled at writing emotional moments - it's like Ginny's and Harry's (and Hermione's, Ron's, Bea's ect) emotional states come off the page and into life!

<He looks down at his plate and is surprised to see four immaculately crispy roast potatoes, truly world-class crispiness, O, outstanding>

^^ Insane - in a positive way - for you to write that segment.

I also have a question, if you don't mind. I'm not new to writing fanfic, and I've had serious relationships, but I have never been in love (Thank you, Catholic parents and Catholic country, for preventing me from discovering my true sexuality until the age of 26 🙄). Cause of that, I'm struggling to show characters falling in love in my own works. How did you represent the process of Harry falling in love in Orchards so truthfully? I understand this process changes between people, but there must be some things shared? Many thanks!

Really, really treasure this message — thank you so much, anon 💌

Have been mulling over your extremely kind and incredibly interesting question ever since you sent this, and trying to think of a response that is better than ‘I’m extremely honoured you think I managed it but I mostly just winged it and worried about it and hoped other people thought I’d got enough of it right’, which was honestly my first thought (other than yes! for sexuality discovery, especially under adverse and/or hostile circumstances — you’re a boss, and I wish you only good things, including tons of love in the form that you seek it).

The thought I’ve settled on is that I absolutely don’t think you have to have been in love to write about falling in love. Works of art that I love that depict falling in love, or any kind of emotional arc that feels true, feel that way not necessarily because the authors lived them themselves, but because a) the authors saw the characters involved very clearly and deeply and rendered those characters shrewdly, and b) because they didn’t claim to be depicting something universal (‘this is what falling in love looks like’), but instead let the love story or whatever other emotional arc between characters be extremely partial, individual and particular (‘this is what this very particular example of falling in love might look like’). I feel wildly unqualified to be discussing this, but I’ve tried to think through some of these ideas in a little more depth below and hope some part of it is helpful to you for your own writing, (which I know will be good because good writing comes from people who care about trying to get it right). It’s waffle because I don’t know what I’m talking about! But hope there’s something in the waffle that means something to you!

It’s true that there’s a lot of power in people telling stories about or based on their own experiences of living in and moving through the world. Writers writers put themselves into their work, both consciously and subconsciously, every time they write, and the results can be very compelling. It’s also true that people writing about things they have no knowledge or experience of can go horribly wrong (and, in the case of depictions of marginalised and dispossessed groups by people who do not belong to a marginalised or dispossessed group, can be wildly offensive). If the aim of writing is to make things that feel true, drawing on personal experiences can be a powerful way of making art that does just that.

Equally, though, lots of people have been in love and would do (or have done) a horrible job of rendering it in art. People don’t always see themselves that clearly, especially their own experiences of romantic love! And lots of people haven’t been in love (or at least, haven’t felt or received romantic love either by choice or by circumstance), and yet can still write a story of people falling in love that will feel true to readers. I say this because I think sometimes we mistake the liberating potential of sharing our experiences of the world as being the only way to truth, when actually most people writing fiction are writing things that haven’t happened to them all the time — yet there still tends to be all this stuff that feels true and real around that must feel that way for reasons other than personal experience.

I actively draw on some of my life experiences in my writing. How I see the world shapes the work I produce in ways I probably don’t see all that clearly. I also write stories about experiences I haven’t had. I can’t say there aren’t elements of my real-life experience of romantic love folded into Orchards, because there absolutely are. But my experiences of falling in love are partial and particular to me, and I’ve never been a traumatised, griefstricken, obtuse (sorry, Harry) teenage boy falling in love, which is what Orchards is about. Part of the fun of writing Orchards was imagining how a character who is so very different to me could possibly develop the strength of the feelings Harry develops for Ginny in canon and not notice. I found it much less useful to think about my own experiences of falling in love than trying to think specifically about what fifteen-turning-sixteen year old Harry looks for in people he is drawn to (eg. compassion, loyalty, deep mutual understanding, a sense of emotional shelter), what he finds sexually attractive (humour, daring, athleticism, bangin’ hair, frankly) and also what he searches for in life as a character (family, permanence, futures).

Another example is that I also write a lot these days about grief and grieving. I’ve been very lucky in my life (touch wood) that I haven’t yet had much experience of really deep grief for someone very close to me. I worry about rendering that truthfully in my work, and am trying to do the work to approach writing about those topics by reading a lot of other people’s works, fiction or nonfiction, about them, and trying to hear the people around me who have experienced huge grief when they describe what it is to live with it. Would I do a better job of writing what it feels like to grieve someone close to you if I’d experienced that? It’s very likely. But it felt less truthful to the stories I’m trying to tell in the fanfiction I’m writing to avoid that topic because I don’t share the experience of it with the characters, so doing the work it is.

The thing I think it boils down to is it’s more important to try and see people and their stories clearly, and to understand what is individual and specific about them, than it is to have had some dubiously universal experience of falling in love. I think it’s much more important to do other (quieter, harder, more underrated, boring, crucial) things like be empathetic, be interested in trying to understand who people are: their influences, their worldview, their fears, their way of conceptualising and expressing themselves, their hopes and fears and capacity for change. For what it’s worth, if you’ve had any kind of meaningful relationship with another human being, I reckon you can draw on that to write about being in love. Making characters’ emotional arcs feel true as a writer, including but not limited to them falling in love, is about working hard to see people for who you they are, and that’s the basis for having any kind of good relationship with another human being, including platonic and romantic relationships: empathy, selflessness, generosity of interest in all that a person is, seeing a person clearly, not idealising them but admiring some parts of them and accepting the others without judgement. We definitely reify romantic love at the expense of platonic love, even though the latter demands all of these things just as much, if not more, than romantic love, and I think you should trust yourself that you probably have it in you to write and render these stories well if you come from a place of humility, empathy and deep care and investment in the characters whose stories you tell.

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

in this moment now

post-Redux II | rated G | 2k words | MSR fluff and first kiss | for @fortes-fortuna-iogurtum <3 | AO3 | tagging @today-in-fic thanks!!!

Scully spends the first two weeks of her medical leave at her mother’s house with instructions not to push herself and a bottle of medication for the migraines that haven’t fully gone away yet; the implication in the doctor’s words and the way Maggie looks at her is a warning not to try and return to work too soon while she’s only barely in remission yet. She thinks she’s doing a decent job of proving the saying about doctors making awful patients wrong, but maybe it’s just the euphoria and relief of being alive that keeps her reasonably cheerful despite how badly she hates her own weakness. The implications of her miraculous healing still weigh on her, and she knows Mulder hasn’t stopped thinking about it either, but those concerns are outweighed by the relief she sees in herself and him and on her mother’s face.

Maggie is away for the afternoon and Scully has an appointment with her oncologist, and doctor’s orders to take it easy aside, she doesn’t want to go alone. It’s not out of fear. She has been given a second chance at life, in a way her mom continues to call sacramental, and she has to admit that she feels the same. She is alive. She is not dying. Chip or no chip, it’s impossible to explain without grace. She isn’t afraid, trusts in her own healing and the words of doctors far more blunt with her than most patients, but the thought of stepping back into those halls alone gives her pause.

It’s not something she thinks about too hard, because she’s already called Mulder and asked if he would drive her — she’s not sure she feels up to diving herself yet, she says, which is true, if not the entirety of it, and his eager acceptance comes nearly before she finishes speaking. She can almost hear his uncertain smile through the telephone line. He calls her “Dana,” once, right before they hang up — I’ll see you tomorrow, Dana — and Scully smiles to herself. It’s been a long time since he’s used her first name.

It feels like testing the waters, like something has changed and they both know it. Mulder has always used her given name sparingly, out of respect that she’d never gotten from previous partners, then, later, like it was somehow something to be treasured. He’s been around several times since she was released from the hospital, they’ve talked on the phone quite a lot, maybe just to hear each others’ voice — for once, Scully has called him just as much as he calls her. She can’t help watching the way is eyes light up when he smiles at her and remembering the way he’s kissed her knuckles when they thought she was going to die

It’s raining on the drive to the hospital, a soft November rain threatening to turn to sleet that has her opting for her thicker wool coat on the way out the door. Mulder chatters almost awkwardly about some local case he’s taken and she’s so content just to hear about it, listen to him talk, that she almost doesn’t realize he’s waiting for her to refute his theories. He looks over at her from the driver’s seat at a red light and his eyes go soft, the way they almost always do when he looks at her lately. She’s never seen anything so incredibly, almost shockingly tender, at least not directed at her. It stuns her, a little bit, as she stares back at him.

“I miss you,” he says suddenly, and it startles her. “Having you around all the time, I mean,” he clarifies before she can reply that she’s right here, in the car beside him, just like she always is.

“I’m here now.”

He tries to hide his grin, the way he used to when they were first working together and didn’t know if it was safe to share their joys. “Yeah,” he replies. “You are.”

Scully has the sudden urge to reach across the console and take his hand, he states even though there’s nothing to lose. They’ve held hands dozens of times, often for comfort or support during a difficult case, on rare, unspoken of occasions just for the sake of the contact. She doesn’t look at him when she reaches out, stays staring thoughtfully out the windshield, and he doesn’t look at her either, but he reaches back and their hands brush against each other with only a moment’s pause before he returns her grip. She hadn’t even realized her hands were cold.

He walks with her into the hospital and is waiting for her in the lobby when she leaves her exam, both of their coats folded over one arm. “Everything okay?” he asks, glancing over her face and holding out her coat. She nods and takes it, slips it around her shoulders and finds herself relaxing into the familiarity of Mulder’s concern and his hand at her back.

Scully looks at him over the top of the car in the parking lot. The rain has stopped, but the pavement is still wet and she can smell the drying dampness in the air. It’s reassuring, somehow, the mundane normalcy of the dreary afternoon. “Everything’s normal,” she says, meaning her oncologist’s tests and report; she realizes as she says it how wrong the words are when applies to the larger reality of circumstances, but neither of them comments on it.

Mulder’s face lights up, like he’d been worried — and of course he had, it’s Mulder, and she’s never seen him more broken than he’d been at her bedside a couple weeks ago; she’d never seen him as close to reverent as when she’d told him the cancer was in remission. Of course he’s still worried. Scully tips her head to watch him watch her, just for a moment. It’s only a few seconds, just long enough to be noticeable, but he’s staring at her again the way she’d first noticed him doing after she’d been abducted, with a kind of overwhelming joy. He looks like he’s half a second from turning into a lovestruck schoolboy and she wonders suddenly if he’d ask her to dance right here and now, in the middle of the wet hospital parking lot.

Then he blinks, and flashes a smile, and just says, “Good,” before ducking to get into the car.

Scully follows, suddenly more aware of herself than she’s been around Mulder in a very long time. She’s never felt self-conscious around him for long, except for a few times on their first case together, before they even really knew each other, and that had worn off quickly. Now, though, she’s far too conscious of the way he looks at her sometimes; all too aware of her own desires, when she’d been dying in that hospital bed and before and since. She doesn’t take his hand again on the drive back, keeps her fingers woven together in her lap and only looks over at Mulder when he’s not looking at her — back and forth, like if they made eye contact something would need to be said, and neither of them knows how to say it.

The one time their eyes do meet, right as they’re pulling into her mom’s driveway, Scully is the first to look away again. “Thank you for coming with me,” she says, reaching for the door handle. Maggie’s car isn’t parked, and she’s a little glad that she isn’t back yet. She has a sudden whim to invite Mulder to stay a little longer, wonders what he would say if she did.

“Anytime,” he replies. “Here, I’ll walk you up.” He steps out of the car along with her, just for a second brushing his hand against her shoulder as she comes around the front. She’s used to that by now, knows the way he constantly tries to touch her — knows, by his own sheepish confession while she was still bedridden in the hospital, that he does it more now to remind himself that she’s still here; after that admission, she’d nearly cried — but her heartrate picks up just a little nonetheless.

She turns her key in the lock and turns halfway to face him. He smiles again, that soft, hesitant upturning of his lips that’s always endeared her. “Goodnight, Scully,” he says and begins to step down the stairs.

She hesitates, suddenly, at the fact that he’s leaving. “Mulder,” she calls, and he stops and looks at her curiously. She reaches out, brushes her hand against his arm, and as if on instinct he takes it. His hand wraps around hers, the touch endlessly familiar. She intertwines their fingers, looks down at their linked hands as her breath catches.

“Scully?” His voice is quiet in the fading evening light as he leans down toward her. Even with him a step below her, she’s still a few inches shorter.

He watches her with bemusement tinged with a small amount of concern, and she offers a small smile. Mulder matches it, his eyes searching over her face almost nervously, but she isn’t afraid. She reaches out with the hand not tangled in his and finds herself gripping the front of his coat as she leans forward and gently, carefully, presses her lips to his. She feels his gasp of surprise before he kisses her back, leaning into the contact almost reverently.

She’s thought about this before; there have been moments when she thought he was going to kiss her and she would let him, times she’s considered stepping out and brushing her lips against his. She’s never acted on it, though, out of hesitation or regret — she’d wanted him to kiss her when she was dying, but she couldn’t do that to him, let him love her and then leave him alone. Thinking about it still makes something inside her twist painfully. She kisses him softly at first, and then more sure, and he slips his free hand into her hair, his thumb brushing her jaw.

When they finally pull apart and she looks up at Mulder again, cheeks flushed from more than the humid evening breeze, his eyes are still closed. It takes him a few seconds to blink them open, his gaze full of wondered shock.

“Scully…” He breathes her name, staring at her like she’s the only other person in the world, like he can’t find any other words. She’s still gripping his jacket, their faces only inches apart. In the shadow of the fading afternoon light, she can see the slowly growing, huge grin on Mulder’s face. She thinks she’s shaking, from adrenaline or giddiness; she thinks she never wants to let this moment go. She never wants to let him go.

His hand is still warmly resting against the back of her neck, fingers threading through the fine har at her nape and brushing against the scar where the chip is, and her only addendum to her own thoughts is: she also never wants him to let her go. He looks like he’s about to lean down and kiss her again, a lopsided, dorky smile on his face because there’s no point in words right now. That will come in time. Tires crunch on pavement, though, and they both stiffen, eyes wide.

The car passes by and Scully relaxes again, feeling Mulder do the same, and she finds herself leaning against him and laughing breathlessly into the damp air. “My mom is going to be home soon,”she says, as if it’s a warning for both of them.

“I should go,” Mulder immediately replies, voice still a little shaky, but she stops him, doesn’t let him get more than an arm’s length away. He stills, the uneven flush of his face giving him an air of boyishness despite despite the tiredness that always hides in his eyes.

Scully bites her lip. “You could stay,” she offers, because she knows with sudden absolute certainty that her mother already has her suspicions about them. One look at her will give it all away, anyway, the way Maggie knows her children, and she doesn’t want to let him leave yet.

Mulder blinks at her, head tipped to the side, and that same small, goofy lovestruck grin appears on his lips again. He steps closer and doesn’t let go of her hand. “Okay,” he says, hesitantly. “I think I will.”

[janecrockeyre]

scum villain is a greek tragedy disguised as a regular tragedy disguised as a comedy disguised as a danmei

this is going to be long, and this is only PART ONE.

a.k.a, Analysing the plot of Scum Villain’s Self Saving System through Aristotle’s Poetics, because I Have Mental Issues

Part One: Introduction and the Tragic Hero

Scum Villain’s Self Saving System is a tragedy disguised as a comedy, unless you’re Shen Yuan, in which case it’s a mixture of a romance and a survival horror. It's a fever dream. It's a horrible, terrible book that made me feel new undiscovered emotions when I finished reading it. 

The thing is... SVSSS shares characteristics with some of the most famous tragedies in the West, such as Oedipus Rex, Medea, Antigone, the Oresteia... if you haven’t read these, I’ll explain everything. But the gist of my argument is this: SVSSS is the perfect tragedy. In triplicate. 

Tragedy as a genre is old as balls and so it has meant slightly different things to different people over the last few thousand years. I'll be focusing on ancient Greek tragedy, which was performed at the yearly Festival of Dionysus in Athens during the 500-350s BC (give or take a hundred years). Aristotle, when writing about this very specific subset of tragedy, had no idea that one day Scum Villain would be written, and then that I would be using his work as a way to look at Shen Qingqiu’s Funky Transmigration Mistake. Anyway!

Greek tragedy greatly influenced European dramatic tradition. I have a lot of opinions about white academics idolising and upholding the classics as the "paragon of culture" but I'll withhold them for now. I have no idea if MXTX has read Greek tragedy or not, so don't take this as me saying they are writing it. 

In my opinion, tragedy is a universal human constant. We are surrounded by pain and hurt and none of it makes any sense, so we seek to process that pain through drama, art, literature, etc. We want to understand why pain happens, and how it happens, and try to make sense of the senseless. The universe is cold and cruel and random. Tragedy eases some of that pain. 

On that note: Just because I am analysing Scum Villain through a Greek lens doesn't mean that it was written that way. I'm pasting an interpretation onto the book when there's probably a very rich and deep history of Chinese tragedy that I just don't know about. If you ever want to talk about that, please, god, hit me up, I would love to learn about it!! 

Anyway, tragedy. MXTX is excellent at it! Mo Dao Zu Shi? Painful dynastic family tragedy. Heaven Official's Blessing? Mostly romance, but she managed to get that pure pain in there, huh? 

But in my opinion, Scum Villain holds the crown for the most tragic of her stories. MDZS was more of a mystery. TGCF was more of a romance. Neither of them shy away from their tragic elements. 

Scum Villain would fit right in between the work of Sophocles, Euripides and Aeschylus. How? Let me show you. Join me on my mystery tour into the world of "Aristotle Analyses Danmei..."

Part One: The Tragic Hero

What is a tragic hero? Generally, Greek tragic heroes are united by the same key characteristics. He must be imperfect, having a "fatal flaw" of some kind. He must have something to lose. And he must go from fortune to misfortune thanks to that fatal flaw. 

There are two (technically three) tragic protagonists in SVSSS and all of them are tragic in different but formulaic ways. Each protagonist has their own version of “hamartia” or a “fatal flaw”. 

Actually, hamartia isn’t necessarily a flaw - rather, it is a thing which makes the audience pity and fear for them, a careful imperfection, a point of weakness in the character’s morality or reasoning that allows for bad things to happen to them. For example, in Oedipus Rex, the king Oedipus has a “fatal flaw” of always wanting to find the truth, but this isn’t exactly a flaw, right? Note: this flaw can be completely unwitting, as we see with Shen Yuan. It can also be something that the protagonist is born with, some kind of trait from birth or very young. 

Shen Yuan

Shen Yuan’s “hamartia” is his rigid adherence to fate and his inability to read a situation as anything but how he thinks it ought to be. He believes that Bingmei will grow into Bingge, and it takes several years, two deaths, and some truly traumatising sex to convince him otherwise. 

Shen Jiu

Shen Jiu’s fatal flaw is his cruelty. It is his own sadistic treatment and abuse of Binghe which directly leads to his eventual dismemberment. This is kind of a no-brainer. Of course, it isn't all that simple, and as an audience we pity him for his cruelty as much as we fear it because we know it comes from his own abuse as a child. This just makes him even more tragic. Delicious. 

Luo Binghe

Luo Binghe’s fatal flaw is a complicated mix of things. It is his position as the “protagonist” which compels him to act in certain ways and be forced to suffer. It is his half-demonic heritage, something entirely out of his control, which sets in motion his tragic reversal of fortune when he gets yeeted into the Abyss. He also, much like Shen Yuan, has the propensity to jump to conclusions and somehow make 2 + 2 = 5. 

As well as having their respective “flaws”, all three protagonists match the rough outline of a good tragic hero in another way: they are in a position of great wealth and power. Even when you split the different characters into different “versions”, this still holds true. Yes, Luo Binghe is raised a commoner by a washerwoman foster mother, but his dad is an emperor and he also ends up becoming an emperor himself. 

Yes, Shen Jiu is an ex-slave and a victim of abuse himself, but Shen Qingqiu is a powerful peak lord with an entire mountain’s worth of resources at his back. 

Shen Yuan is a second generation new money rich kid. 

Bingge is a stereotypical protagonist with a golden finger. Bingmei is a treasured and loved disciple with a good reputation and a privileged seat by his shizun’s side. 

In a tragedy, having this kind of good fortune at the beginning of your story is dangerous. Chaucer says that tragedy is (badly translated into modern english) “a certain story / of him that stood in great prosperity / and falls out of high degree / into misery, and ends up wretchedly”. If we follow this line of thinking, a good tragedy is about someone who has a lot to lose, losing everything because of one fatal point of weakness that they fail to address or understand. 

If we look at Shakespeare, this is what makes King Lear such a fantastic tragic protagonist. He is a king in control of most of England, who from his own lack of wisdom and excess of pride, decides to split his kingdom apart to give to his daughters, favouring his murderous, double crossing progeny, and condemning his only actually filial daughter to death. He loses his kingdom, his mind, and his beloved daughter, all because of his own stupidity.

This brings us to:

Part Two: Peripeteia

This reversal of fortunes is called peripeteia. It is the moment where the entire plot shifts, and the hero’s fortunes go from good to bad. Think of it like one of those magic eye puzzles, where you stare at the image until a 3D shark appears, except you realise the shark was always there, you just couldn't ever see it, waiting for you, hungry, deadly, always lurking just behind that delightful pattern of random blue squiggles. 

Each tragic hero has their own moment of peripeteia in SVSSS, sometimes several:

Shen Qingqiu

In the original PIDW, SQQ’s peripeteia presumably occurs when he finds out that Bingge didn’t perish in the Abyss but has actually been training hard to come and pay him back. There’s really not much I’m interested in saying here - as a villain, OG!SQQ is cut and dry, and the audience doesn’t really feel any pity or fear for him. As Shen Yuan often mentions, what the audience feels when they see OG!SQQ is bloodlust and sick satisfaction. There is also the trial at Huan Hua Palace, which I will talk about in Shen Yuan’s section. 

Shen Yuan (SQQ 2.0)

One of SY’s most poggers moment of peripeteia is the glorious, terrifying section between hearing Binghe for the first time after the Abyss moment, and getting shoved into the Water Prison. 

“Behind him, a low and soft voice came: “Shizun?”

Shen Qingqiu’s neck felt stiff as he slowly turned his head. Luo Binghe’s face was the most frightening thing he had ever seen.

The scariest thing about it was that the expression on his face was not cold at all. His smile wasn’t sharp like a knife. Rather, it showed a kind of bone-deep gentleness and amiability.”

This is the moment of true horror for Shen Yuan, because he knows what happens next: the plot unfurls before him, inevitable and painful, and he knows that death awaits him at Luo Binghe's hands (lol). Compare it with the bone deep certainty with which he faces his own downfall during the sham of a trial later in the chapter (I’ve bolded the important part):

“In the original work, Qiu Haitang’s appearance signified only one thing: Shen Qingqiu’s complete fall from grace. [...] Shen Qingqiu’s heart streamed with tears. Great Master… I know you’re doing this for my own good, but I’ll actually suffer if she speaks her words clearly. This truly is the saying “not frightened of doing a shameful deed, just afraid the ghost (consequences) will come knocking”!”

After the peripeteia is usually the denouement where the plot wraps up and the threads are all tied together leaving no loose ends, but because this tragedy isn’t Shen Yuan’s but the former Shen Jiu’s, it’s impossible to finish. 

Shen Yuan cannot provide the meaningful answers that the narrative demands because 1) he doesn’t have any memory of doing anything, and 2) he wasn’t the person who did them. Narratively, he cannot follow the same path as the former SQQ because he lacks the same fatal flaw: cruelty. 

This is why Binghe doesn’t kill him - because he loves him, rather than despises him. And this is why Shen Yuan has to sacrifice himself and die for Luo Binghe in order to save him from Xin Mo: because the narrative demands that denouement follows peripeteia, and SQQ’s fate is in the hands of the narrative. 

(Side note: I believe that this literal death also represents the death of OG!SQQ's tragic arc. The body that committed all those crimes must die to satisfy the narrative. SQQ must die, like burning down a forest, so that new growth can sprout from the ashes. After this, Shen Yuan's story has more room to develop instead.)

It must happen to show Bingmei that SQQ loves him too. And this brings us to Bingmei.

Bingmei

Bingmei has two succinct moments of utter downfall. The first is a literal fall - his flaw, his demonic heritage, leads his beloved shizun to throw him down into the Abyss. From his point of view, SQQ is punishing him simply for the status of his birth. He rapidly goes from being loved and cherished unconditionally, to being the victim of an assassination attempt. 

He realises that he is totally unlovable: that for the crimes of his species that he never had a hand in, he must pay the price as well: that his shizun is so righteous that no matter what love there was between them, if SQQ sees a demon, he will kill it. Even if that demon is Bingmei. 

The second moment is when SQQ dies for him. Again, from his point of view, he was chasing after a man who was struggling to see him as a human being. Shen Qingqiu’s death makes Bingmei realise that he has been completely misunderstanding his shizun: that SQQ would literally die for him, the ultimate act of self sacrifice from love: that SQQ loved him despite his demon heritage. 

Much like King Lear holding the corpse of his daughter and wailing in sheer grief and pain because he did this, he caused this, Bingmei gets to hold his shizun's cold body and cry his eyes out and know that it was his fault. (Kind of.)

(Yes, I’m bringing Shakespeare into this, no I am not justifying myself)

Maybe I'm a bit sadistic, but that scene slaps. Let me show you a comparison of scenes so you get the picture. 

Re-enter KING LEAR, with CORDELIA dead in his arms; EDGAR, Captain, and others following

KING LEAR

Howl, howl, howl, howl! O, you are men of stones:

Had I your tongues and eyes, I'ld use them so

That heaven's vault should crack. She's gone for ever!

I know when one is dead, and when one lives;

She's dead as earth. Lend me a looking-glass;

If that her breath will mist or stain the stone,

Why, then she lives.

[...]

 KING LEAR

And my poor fool is hang'd! No, no, no life!

Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life,

And thou no breath at all? Thou'lt come no more,

Never, never, never, never, never!

Pray you, undo this button: thank you, sir.

Do you see this? Look on her, look, her lips,

Look there, look there!

Dies

Versus this scene in SVSSS: 

Luo Binghe turned a deaf ear to everything else, greatly agitated and at a loss of what to do. He was still holding Shen Qingqiu’s body, which was rapidly cooling down. It seemed like he wanted to call for him loudly and forcefully shake him awake, yet he didn’t dare to, as if he was afraid of being scolded. He said slowly, “Shizun?”

[...]

Luo Binghe involuntarily held Shen Qingqiu closer.

He said in a small voice, “I was wrong, Shizun, I really… know that I was wrong.

“I… I didn’t want to kill you…”

PAIN. SO MUCH BEAUTIFUL PAIN. Yes, I know Shakespeare isn’t Athenian, but he was inspired by the good old stuff and he also knew how to write a perfect tragedy on his own terms. Anyway. I’ll find more Greek examples later.

This post was a bit all over the place, but I hope it has been fun to read. Part Two will be coming At Some Point, Who Knows When. This is a bit messy and unedited, but hey, I’m not getting paid or graded, so you can eat any typos or errors. Unless you’re here to talk to me about Chinese tragedy, in which case, please pull up a seat, let me get you a drink, make yourself at home.

ps: if you want to retweet this, here is the promo tweet!

[kiwixlime]

Lust

Part Three of the Seven Deadly Sins Series

Lust is a thing of the blood. Doesn't need head or heart.

Warnings: Angst, smut.

Notes: Time to get spicy! Thank you so much for reading. <3 I can’t wait to share more of this series with you. Hope you’re enjoying so far!

Lightning strikes in the distance. You watch from your hotel balcony as it highlights the outlines of the grand pyramids ahead. Sam sits next to you, relaxed, legs spread and a cigarette dangling between his teeth, suffocating you with the unclean stench. You want to rip it from his lips because it truly is a terrible habit, but he seems extra stressed about something tonight, so you let it slide.

You've been in Egypt for three whole days with Sam and Sully and haven’t made much progress. Every lead you find comes up empty and you’ve considered calling in reinforcements, but Sam heavily opposes the idea, saying you don’t need anyone else for this. To appease his stubbornness, you make a deal with him, agreeing to put off your call for one day. Of course, when you made that deal, you weren’t expecting a storm to roll in and muddy your plans.

Sully, having argued enough with Sam for the day, left to clear his mind down at the hotel bar, giving you and Sam the room. The part of you still smitten with Sam is thankful for the alone time, but the saner part of you, the one painfully aware of his idiocy, wants to strangle him and then leave to join Sully for a drink. He’s so hard to read lately, hot and cold with you, giving you hope and then letting it deflate.

You try to play it cool, act like you don’t care, but it’s a challenge. Sitting outside in silence is a nice change, though, and it gives you time to consider your position. Loud rumbles of thunder can be heard in the distance and even though it’s ominous in the dark, it’s tranquil. Nice. You’re enjoying the company of Sam. You think it’s going to be a halfway decent night since he hasn’t made any snarky quips. However, that bubble bursts when he speaks up about that damn treasure again.

You love his passion, his determination. It's all very admirable. But he’s obsessed, too obsessed, and so far up his own ass, he can’t see. You wish he would listen to you for once. Or learn how to calm the fuck down. Do they make a book for that? Sam loves reading. Just gift him How to Remove Head from Ass for Dummies.

“All this time wasted,” he grimaces, flicking the burning embers of his cigarette, scattering them along the balcony floor. You frown, watching them quickly dissipate, orange to ash. “We should have something by now,” he says, annoyed.

“Just let me call Andre,” you offer, lightheartedly, just like you did the day before and the day before that. “He’s really smart and he knows this area well. He could help.” You close your eyes and listen to the distant thunder claps, so you don’t notice that Sam has completely changed his attitude.

Andre is your friend. A good friend. Someone you met years ago on vacation to Cairo. He was your unofficial tour guide for that day and you learned a great deal about him. For example, he wasn’t a tour guide at all, but a research assistant to a history professor. And he was incredibly brilliant, knowing all the secrets of the city and sharing only half of them with you.

After all this time, you still keep in touch, turning to him every so often when you need help with a case or want to pick his brain about artifacts that make their way to your museum. He’s turned out to be quite the researcher. And he knows about your fascination with Selena. You know he’d be a perfect addition to your team, at least for this part of your quest.

“We don’t need another person!” He snaps at you, snuffing the butt of his cigarette out in the ashtray, bitterly. Your eyes flutter open at his small outburst and you sulk. Funny, you think. Usually, smoking is a vice that calms people down. But you should know better, Sam doesn’t know calm. “Stop trying to push your little boyfriend on me.”

That shocks you, but somehow, you’re expecting it. Each time you mention Andre, whether it be for the expedition or just in general, Sam gets tense. It could be jealousy or be he’s just a selfish shit. You don’t ask. You react.

“You’re literally such an asshole,” you moan and slam your fist down onto the plush seating underneath you. Scrambling from your comfortable position, you move away from Sam, needing some distance between the two of you. You take one last look at the enchanting view ahead of you, wishing you could enjoy it more, before stomping back into the room. Sam immediately follows behind, not finished with the conversation.

“You’re the one making it pretty clear I’m not enough for you,” he mumbles, shutting the balcony door behind him. The air in the room is strained and you have the sudden urge to push him out the window. But as the dust settles, you notice something.

His voice holds a hint of doubt, showing weakness as he speaks. And his words are much quieter than before, allowing his accent to come out thicker. You look at him with astonishment, a flicker in your heart being relit at his implications.

“What are we talking about here, Sam?” You decide to ask, knowing his behavior isn’t just about treasure hunting anymore. If he could say it… Fuck, if he could say it, you would be his, without a doubt. That’s how much of a grasp he has on your heart.

“Nothing,” he deadpans, dropping the subject altogether. He heads to the stacked bar within the room to pour himself a drink, leaving you speechless. Well, that annoys you.

You purse your lips and nod, walking to the large bed that sits atop one of the many raised platforms in the room. Your fingers trace over the expensive sheets, treading the outline of the red and gold vine detailing, marveling at how luxurious it is, and for a second, you wonder how they’d feel against your bare skin as you tangle your body with Sam’s. You hate to admit that you’re craving his touch lately, especially since you don’t actually know how he feels about you anymore.

So far, he has been a gentleman, letting you have the bed while he sleeps on the pull-out, keeping things professional between you two. You can’t ignore your history, though. You want him to be with you. Right? Those nice thoughts pass as you hear Sam mumbling behind you. If he wants a fight, a fight is what you’ll give him.

“Of course,” you scoff and sit down on the bed. Your hands are firm against the mattress, fingertips tapping in a rhythm. “You know…” You begin, crossing your legs. “You keep finding new ways to hurt me, Samuel. Do you hate me that much?”

Stunned, Sam frowns, forehead creasing in thought like he’s finally putting together missing puzzle pieces. He doesn’t hate you. He could never hate you. It’s so intensely the opposite that he can barely keep himself together around you. These past few days have been torture for him. All he wants to do is uncover this mystery for you like he knows he can. You offering to bring in another guy to help bruises his ego more than he cares to admit.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says after a moment of silence. He’s still leaning against the bar, drink in hand, fingers curled tightly around the glass. The amber liquid swirls against its container, and he watches like it’s the most interesting thing in the world, afraid to put his eyes on you. He knows the effect his words have on you.

Your breath hitches and it feels like a thousand weights have lifted from your body, exhilarating and exhausting all at the same time. Sam Drake actually apologized to you. After a whole year of longing for amends, you finally got what you wanted. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I am so fucking sorry.” He mutters. “I made a thousand mistakes with you. I thought I loved Mandy…”

Hearing it is on another level and you can’t decide exactly how to feel at his admission. So he’s sorry? That’s just great. Okay. Looks like anger is the first emotion to take over. “I knew I loved you,” you snap, coiling in on yourself. “I hate you.”

Sam smirks and leaves his place at the bar. He stalks over to you and sits down on the bed, strangely close. His body heat envelops you like a warm blanket and you hate how comfortable you feel just by his presence. “Yeah, you’ve been saying that.” He rolls his eyes. “Get some new material.”

“Fuck you, Sam!” You shout, giving in to your anger. You push him away from you as you stand, spinning on your heels to look at him. “Fuck you. How’s that for new material?” ”

Unimpressed, Sam glares at you, his eyes reading between hurt and vexation. “Damn it!” He yells, suddenly, making you jump back at his decibel. “You’re so fucking frustrating!”

“Me?” You scoff in disbelief, taking another step back as he rises from the bed. God, he’s so fucking tall, strong, dominating. Girl, push that shit down, you tell yourself.

“You!” He yells at you, and you’d be intimated if you weren’t so turned on. Christ, what’s wrong with you? Quick, you think, remember the reasons why you hate him. Oh, right!

“You left me for someone else!” You remind him, coldly. You stand tall against him, refusing to back down. You can hold your own against him; he’s not that impressive. He doesn’t scare you.

“You fucked Rafe!” He brings it up again. Again. Is that the only thing he sees when he looks at you? What did he expect? Rafe was there. You were heartbroken. Rafe picked up the pieces.

“Oh, god, Sam,” you sigh with a laugh because you have to laugh because if you don’t laugh, you’ll cry. And like hell are you going to cry over Sam Drake again. “Get over it! Why the fuck do you care so much!”

Breathing heavily, you stand there with your fists balled at your sides. The room feels smaller somehow. And you feel like you’re suffocating. Sam takes two long strides to you and grabs the back of your head, yanking you up by your hair. He searches your eyes for hesitation, but you return his questioning stare with excitement. You want this. Oh, fuck, you want this. You’re a masochist. All common sense leaves you, replaced by pure lust. You nod slowly, giving him your answer.

“I own you,” he says darkly, tightening his grip on your hair.

Such a simple phrase, should scare you, should terrify you. But Sam knows you so well, knows what you like to hear, how you like to feel. So that simple phrase is enough to make you break and send warmth between your legs.

“Sam,” you whimper, looking up at him with wide, pleading eyes, biting your lip as he tugs on your hair a bit harder.

“Yeah, dollface?” He asks, eyes darting around your face, his lips so close to yours, you can feel his hot breath fan across your face, can practically taste the smoke.

“Fuck me,” you breathe, sounding absolutely pathetic and weak. He loves it.

Your words make his cock twitch, and he gives in to your plea. Sam knots his hand in your hair and pulls you into him, locking his lips with yours passionately, moaning the second he tastes you. You eagerly return the enthusiasm, greedily flicking your tongue against his bottom lip. He growls into the kiss, parting his mouth to accept your desperation.

Without parting, he walks you back to the bed, stumbling over his feet as he precariously gropes at your body. It’s been too long since you’ve had each other. Your kisses are hot and sloppy, your touches are burning, and you’re already wet for him. When the backs of your knees finally hit the bed he takes the advantage to push you down, finally breaking the kiss. But only for a second.

You crawl back onto the bed and watch Sam pull his t-shirt over his head. Your hands reach out for him, and he gives in, leaning down on you and reattaching your lips. Trembling fingers grip at his bare shoulders, dragging him closer to you, filling out any empty spaces. His tongue traces the crevices of your mouth and you moan, helpless, letting him take control.

His rough hands travel down the curves of your body, sneaking up your sleep shirt and bunching the fabric in between his fingers. “Off,” he demands, pushing your shirt upwards. You do what he says and remove the barrier between the two of you. He sits back on his knees, devouring the view of your half-naked body, your dazzling skin, perfect tits, rose red lips. With a grunt, he knocks your legs apart and you oblige, spreading them wide and welcoming him in between. You grab at his chest as he settles on top of you once more and sucks on your bottom lip, nibbling the sensitive flesh.

Your responsive signals have his hips avidly grinding into yours, causing an enticing friction. His hard cock strains against his jeans and you moan at the feeling of him rutting against you, encouraging him to keep going. You arch your body into his so that his hard bulge presses against your sensitive clit. At this moment, you need him, all of him.

“Oh, Sam,” you gasp. “I need you,” you say. He pushes himself up on his arms, hovering over you. A smirk dons his perfect face and he nods. His eyes travel down, fingers following, brushing against your stomach. He looks up to you for confirmation and you reach out with your hand to touch his face. “Please,” you pout.

That’s all he needs to hear, dipping his fingers down into your pajama shorts, surprised to find you not wearing any panties. “Ready for me already, huh?” He winks and slides a finger along your slit. “Baby,” he purrs, dropping his head to the nape of your neck. “So fucking wet for me,” he boasts and bites down onto your collar, slipping a finger inside of you.

“Fuck,” you groan as you throw your head back. You forgot the magic Sam can work on you with just his fingers. He peppers your neck with kisses and bites again as he adds a second finger, curling inside of you and brushing the nerves that make you turn to putty in his hands.

“Dollface,” he whispers into you. “You’re so fucking sexy.” His lips ghost down your neck to your bare chest. His free hand slides up to cup your breast while his lips mark the other, taking your pert nipple into his mouth, hungrily sucking your skin.

Your hands softly spread over his toned body, giving in to his assault on your chest. Euphoric, you feel, like an itch you can’t reach has finally been scratched. This is a bad idea, you know. But you don’t care. Your head is cloudy and all you can think about is Samuel Fucking Drake and fucking Samuel Drake.

He crawls down your body, pressing warm, wet kisses to your burning skin as he goes. He taps your hip with his hand and you lift, giving him access to slip your flimsy shorts down and off your legs. You sprawl out before him and he smiles, a genuine smile, making a blush spread over your body.

“Beautiful,” he comments before settling his upper body down between your legs. He nips at the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, biting and sucking secret marks that only he will have the advantage of seeing. He hopes so, anyway. It wasn’t just the heat of the moment. He means it when he says he owns you. You are irrevocably his. He knows, hidden behind layers of self-hatred, he knows he never loved Mandy. It’s always been you.

“Sam,” you groan, threading your fingers in his hair. “Please,” you sigh.

“You sound so good when you beg,” he chuckles but eases your desperation by finally delving his tongue between your folds. You hold in a moan, squeezing your thighs tightly against his head. You feel him chuckle before he flattens his tongue and takes you back into his mouth.

“Oh, fuck, Sam,” you grumble, pushing yourself down against his face. He welcomes it, curling his arms around your thighs, holding you down and in place as he eats you out, lapping up your sweet juices with vigor. The erotic sounds that tumble from his lips into your pussy let you know that he’s missed this just as much as you have.

You squirm in his hold, pulling at strands of his hair each time his tongue rolls over your clit. The way his tongue works inside of you is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. Sam’s a giver, always has been, so he’s extremely talented with his mouth. Plus, he’s never been shy about eating your pussy before, preferring going down on you over anything else.

“I forgot how good you taste,” he murmurs as he pulls away for a second, licking your essence off of his lips. His stubbled chin glistens with your juices, but it doesn’t deter him. He goes back to your sex, sucking your clit into his mouth, sliding a finger into your wet heat.

“Fuck, just like that,” you tell him and drop your hands to the bed, writhing as Sam tongue and finger fucks you. Your stomach tightens, burning with desire. You’re so close and Sam knows. He still remembers your tells and as much as he’d love for you to come in his mouth, he needs to fuck you.

He takes one more lick at you before sitting back, admiring your dripping, pink folds. He’s proud and he should be. Sam’s a god.

“Sam,” you whine, reaching for him. And fuck, he loves the way his name sounds in your mouth.

Knowing what you want, he slides off the bed and steps out of his jeans, putting on a show for you. He kicks them across the room, hooking his fingers into his boxers and inching them down slowly. You watch with a blissed-out grin, mouth watering as he pulls them down far enough for his aching cock to spring free.

Absent-mindedly, your hand travels down your body and you touch yourself as you watch him undress in front of you. He tsks and shakes his head in disappointment, climbing on top of you and smacking your hand away. “Baby, as hot as it is to watch you touch yourself, I make you cum.”

“I want you inside of me,” you say out of breath.

Eyes lidded, Sam takes in all of you, rubbing his palms over your velvety smooth skin. He lays his hand flat on your abdomen and eases into you, eyes closed as you quiver around him. He bites his lip as he fills you, dumbfounded by how warm and wet you are. You can tell he’s holding back from moaning or cursing or both and you won’t allow that. You wiggle underneath him and he gasps, opening his eyes, staring down at you.

You bat your lashes in innocence and he grins, pulling almost all the way out of you before pushing in again, slow and steady. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he moans. “Take me so well, dollface.”

You nod at his recognition and lift your hips to meet his. He grunts, pulling you closer so he can sink the rest of the way into you. You both moan at the same time and it gives him the boost he needs to increase his momentum. The way he rolls his hips into yours is addicting and you secure your legs around him, dragging him deeper inside you with each hard thrust.

“Come on, Sam,” you moan, digging your fingers into his hips. “Fuck me like you used to, like I’m your little slut,” you tease and he growls, glaring up at you with dark, desirous eyes.

“Who said you could talk like that, huh?” He says, harshly snapping his hips into yours. “You’re so fucking filthy,” he moans, grazing his rugged hands up your sides, yanking your arms up above your head. His lips meet yours in a clumsy kiss as he finds your hands, lacing your fingers together. He pins you to the bed, hands grasping yours tightly as he thrusts into you with sharp, quick movements. It’s hard, possessive sex and it’s everything you’ve been craving.

“Missed you,” you pant hotly into his mouth. “Missed your cock. Missed -- fuck --” you cry out once Sam hits that spot inside of you that has you seeing stars. “Oh, fuck, Sam, I missed the way you fuck me.”

He groans in return, burying his face into your neck, scraping his teeth against your sweat-glazed, salty skin. His fingers untangle with yours, gliding down, roaming over every surface, every dip of your body. Like he needs to have his hands on you, needs to touch you everywhere to make up for lost time. Because he’s missed you, too, everything about you.

“I fuck you good, huh? I’m the only one who can make you feel like this.” He doesn’t ask you. He tells you.

Your hands slide down his back, dragging your nails across his skin as you let out breathy moans. You hear him hiss in your ear and his hips speed up so that you’re bouncing underneath him, body gliding across the silk sheets as his hard dick pounds into you. You know scratching is a turn-on for him and this reaction is exactly what you wanted.

“Keep doing it,” he commands in a husky voice. He kisses up your neck, to your jaw, before capturing your bottom lip between his teeth. He tugs a moan out of you, using the advantage to slide his tongue into your mouth, admiring your sweet taste.

“Shit, don’t stop,” you mewl, clawing down his chest, breaking the skin, marking him as yours. You’re on edge, ready to unravel already. Sam fucks you so well, and his touch is all-consuming. “Don’t stop, don’t stop,” you sigh, head thrown back in bliss. He tries to kiss you again, but you're moaning so hard and loud. It's messy. Hot.

“Look at me,” he orders and you snap your eyes open, practically peering into his soul. His sadistic, charming, dark soul. He grins as your eyes meet, shooting you a wink. “Say my name.”

You’re so close and you can tell Sam is too by the way his movements get sloppier and you know that he loves it when you moan his name. Who are you to deny him the same pleasure he’s giving you?

“Sam,” you purr and lick your lips. And as you expect, Sam’s movements falter. He locks his arms on either side of you and fucks into your needy pussy as fast as he can. You reach down to touch yourself, but Sam slaps your hand away.

“Please,” you pout, wiggling beneath him, earning a grunt in response.

“No,” he smiles, that damn cocky smile that makes your walls tighten around him.

“Let me cum, Sam,” you plead, your release building up with Sam’s endless motions.

“Beg for it,” he smirks, his fingers teasing you, just barely brushing your aching clit. He knows the power he holds over you, and it's scary. But what you don't know, what he's been too afraid to share, is that you have the same effect on him.

“Please Sam,” you cry out, grinding against him, taking his cock like the good girl you are. “I need to cum, please,” you whimper.

“Oh,” he groans and slows the dirty drag of his cock, teasing you to the brink. “Good girl. Such a good girl for me.”

His praises and the steady flick of his fingers make you reach your climax quicker than you anticipated. But it's been a long time coming. Ha. You cum with a loud moan of Sam’s name, tightening your legs around him, giving him everything you have, which he selfishly takes.

“Fuck, dollface,” he grunts, turned on by your sounds and the fact that he can still make you cum just as hard as before. He’s missed the faces you make when you’re being fucked just right; missed the way your body molds perfectly with his. All of these feelings pool together to bring him close to orgasm. “Gonna cum,” he pants.

“Cum for me, Sam, let me feel you,” you murmur in between gasps. “Please, baby.”

“Shit, fuck,” he groans, melting at your words. He comes undone quickly, spilling his release deep inside of you, how you like it. You coax him through his climax with your hands and your lips, caressing his hot body. "Mine," you hear him whisper and you feel that heat building up inside of you again.

Exhaustion hits him quickly and he collapses on top of you, hot and heavy breath tickling your skin. His arms are wobbly as he rolls off of you, a light chuckle escaping him. He pulls you close to his sticky body and you sigh.

You lay in bed next to him, your legs tangled with his. The fancy sheet barely covers your sweaty body. Sam’s breathing is labored, and his hold on you is strong, possessive. Closing your eyes, listening to your heart pound in your chest, you wonder if this is love between you two…or just lust.

Masterlist

[getlostsquidward]

The gaps in your hearts (Part 2)

Lou Miller x fem!reader

A/N: You asked for part 2, and I shall deliver. I hope it's worth your wait!!

Summary: After your departure, an unexpected circumstance had you arriving back at the loft, back at Lou. Will the gaps in your hearts only become wider or will they be finally filled?

Part one

“Oh, bugger. Baby? I’m home.”

“Nice place.”

“Try heating it.”

“There’s a room for you upstairs. Your stuff’s upstairs too.”

Lou called your name a couple of times but she got no answer. Maybe you went out and got something from the store. She furrowed her eyebrows at the notion that you didn’t let her know you’ll go out like you usually does.

She can’t wait for you to meet Debbie.

The sun has set down and you weren’t at home yet. Lou was growing worried each minute that passes. She’d left you text messages, she tried to call you several times, but all of it went to voicemail. Where did you go?

Debbie had returned from her closure meeting with Claude. She had bought takeout for dinner but Lou wasn’t in any mood to eat. She was antsy but keeping it down so her friend won’t notice. Maybe you were called in at work? Maybe you went out with a friend and forgot to send her a text. The blonde knows you can perfectly take care of yourself but she can’t help but be worried.

“Where’s your girl?” Debbie asked, reminded of Lou calling someone ‘baby’ when they arrived earlier.

Lou just shrugged her shoulders, not really knowing what to answer.

“Maybe she hit her head and woke up from the truth,” the brunette joked.

Lou glared at her friend. “Not funny.”

“Tell me about her.”

The blonde started to tell her friend everything. From how you met, the ups and downs of your relationship, and how loving and wonderful you are. You were patient and understanding; you were perfect in every way and she hated how she’d managed to hurt the one person that did nothing but love her.

The day you moved out of the loft was the most devastating day of her life. It was way much worse than when Debbie left before.

She knew that you were checking in on her through Matt, and she was wracked with guilt. Even after what she’d done, you still care for her. Lou unconsciously checks her phone to see if you left a message but to no avail. You really honoured your word that you’d give her time, and she was thankful for that.

In your two-month break, she really had thought about it all. She used the time to sort out her feelings. Hell, she even opened up to some of her other friends for help, something she rarely does even with those who know her. Unearthing her feelings.

Lou had feelings for Debbie. She didn’t know if it was romantic or if it was just a deep affection. She didn’t really think much of it. Debbie was one of the few of the persons she knows she could trust with her life and in the conworld, such a person was like a rare gem. It was hard to find, and if you do, you’ve got to treasure it. And so she did.

“Maybe you’d mistaken the concept of love and affection. You told me you really didn’t think anything about it and that explains it. The moment you felt that that person was dear to you, you immediately equated it to romantic love.”

The words mentioned had hit Lou, hard. Once she realized that, she promptly had to find you. She called you, but you didn’t answer. She didn’t know where you were staying so she asked your friends, and that’s how Lou found you drowning in liquor in some alley.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” Debbie berated, feeling rather guilty about how she was probably the reason you left for the second time around.

“I do. No need to remind me.”

“I’m gonna tell you to go find her, but I also need you to focus on the job. Can you do both?”

“Of course,” Lou sighed. She won’t know what she would do if she were to lose you for real this time.

-

You were feeling rueful for leaving Lou without a word. You knew she’d be worried sick, but it was the best for the two of you. Once again, you fell into your routine. It was incredibly helpful that an event was coming and you can spend all of your time at work. Though this time, the constant drinking was out of your to-do list.

Your mind often wandered to Lou. She said something about a job, maybe that’s what they’re doing right now. Has she been thinking of you too?

The messages and missed calls Lou had sent you were not in your knowledge as you’d let your best friend hide your phone, and bought a new one for you. At first, you thought that it would be ridiculous and childlike of you but maybe she had a point. The worst-case scenario would be Lou filing for a missing person’s case, but you knew she wouldn’t dare cross paths with the police.

-

“Oh my god, you guys. This party is nuts. I’m not kidding! If your dress is ugly, you can’t wear it, no shit! They will bower your wardrobe!” Tammy rambled and rushed to get into the loft where she got everyone’s attention.

“I love that!” Lou quipped.

“Oh I gotta pee,” Tammy continued to ramble. “Every table cost a quarter-million dollars that if they allow you to buy one! I mean not just any $250,000 check will be approved, I mean they literally have to tell you whether or not they’ll take your money, it’s crazy!”

Everyone was standing outside the bathroom, still listening to Tammy rant about the Met.

“And then you can’t bring anyone, that you clearly go by yourself. They spend a hundred grand on food and apparently no one eats, it’s really crazy,” the blonde finished as she went out, kind of out of breath from the continuous rambling.

“Did you get the seating chart?” asked Debbie.

“The what?”

“The seating chart.” Tammy handed the special glasses she was wearing to Debbie.

“If I haven’t said it, it’s really crazy. This one person that I’m working with maybe is the only saving grace of that place. Thank goodness for Y/N,” the blonde sighed, capturing the attention of Lou.

She shared looks with Debbie, hoping that it was you their friend was talking about.

After discussing the seating chart, they approached Tammy and straightforwardly asked about you, if you were the same person she’d mentioned. Apparently, you quit your last job and had started few weeks prior to Tammy. Lou asked if you’re doing well, and almost cried when she nodded. When Tammy asked why they are curious, Debbie answered. “Lou’s girl. Left because of this dumbass right here.”

The blonde had a surprised expression on her face, a bit amazed at how small the world is. The person they’ve been looking for was only at their reach this whole time.

“She’s sweet. If you’re planning to get her back, which I know you would, you better not mess up.”

Since that day, Lou was itching to contact you but inhibited herself. She’d finish the job first, then she would have you back. If she was lucky enough to be given a second chance, which she wouldn’t fucking waste, she can finally go to California riding with you on her new bike like you always wanted to do.

Finally, it was the first Monday in May. Lou was still in the van with Nineball, preparing food for her. She remembered you telling her she would look good in a chef’s uniform. She wasn’t actually a chef right now, but she still owes you a hundred bucks.

What if you weren’t gone? Maybe you would be in on the heist too, and you would be the most beautiful woman in her eyes, everyone else in the Met is damned. She knew you would have loved and drooled over the green jumpsuit she was wearing.

The heist was successful, and the ladies were lounging at the loft. Their dillydally was halted when an unexpected guest has stormed the loft. Daphne Kluger.

“You guys are fucked,” the actress huffed. “Wow, nice place.”

“Excuse me, you are trespassing-”

“No, we asked her to come,” Lou cut Tammy’s accusation.

Debbie started to explain how Daphne might have gotten a sense of what they were doing, so they roped the brunette in. Daphne then asserted how she was the one who was saving everyone from insurance fraud. Another revelation had caused panic to those who didn’t know, scared that they might be busted and imprisoned.

“We will not be the prime suspect.”

“Then who will be the prime suspect?”

Lou listed several people like the security guys and the busboy. Their attention was focused on Daphne that they didn’t notice another person coming in. You quietly opened the door in purpose, glancing at each of the women inside. You’d heard the last bit of their conversation and captured their attention by announcing your presence.

“The shady guy who put Debbie away,” you casually commented, walking towards everyone.

“Wow,” Daphne chuckled. “The boyfriend.”

Everyone but Debbie and Daphne was shocked, for the third time around. They didn’t really expect guests today. Lou looked like she had seen a ghost but didn’t take her eyes off you.

“Yup. If they were gonna be looking for somebody, just had to make sure it wasn’t one of us.”

You whispered a “Hi, Tam” to your coworker, and took a sit in the middle of her and Daphne. “The precision, right?” the actress turned to you. “The attention to detail, a little grace note that really makes something sing.”

While she was blubbering about how well-thought the job was, she scooted closer to you and put a hand on your thigh. Lou raised an eyebrow at the action, jealousy bubbling in her chest.

“Why are you doing this?” Tammy asked, referring to Daphne. “And Y/N? You were in too? How?”

You let the brunette answer first and when she finished, Debbie had answered for you.

“She was our other mole in the Met, aside from you and Nine.”

“Oh, you were an angel, Y/N. She made sure I was okay after hurling my guts out. Much much better company than my date,” Daphne preached, leaning her head on your shoulder. You rest your head on hers in return.

Lou’s jaw was gritted, it was too much for her and she couldn’t look any longer. She looked at Debbie and gave her a perplexed look, asking for further explanation.

The brunette just shrugged her shoulder, knowing it was up to you to talk to Lou. After all, it was the reason she approached you. At first, she had only talked to you about Lou, but later called to ask if you were willing to join in the job. You’d said yes right away.

That night, you saw Lou sitting near the shore. She was staring straight ahead as you sat next to her.

“Lou?”

“You know, I planned to talk to you after we got the money. But you got to me first,” she whispered.

“You have to thank Debs for that.”

Lou chuckled, “Debs? What, you’re on a nickname basis now? She doesn’t even let me call her that.”

“She told me everything. And, I- I’m sorry, Lou. I shouldn’t have left like that, left you worried though you had a job to focus on-”

Lou cut you off as she pulled you in for a hug. “No, Y/N. I should be the one apologizing.”

Her hand was running up and down your back, the touch soothing all of your troubles. You can finally feel at peace. There was no snarling voice at the back of your head, no heavy feeling. You feel like a sailor in the middle of a calm sea.

“I’ll make it up to you, for real, this time,” Lou pulled back, giving you a smile. You nodded in return.

“Although you may have to explain first what was that earlier,” her smile faded, and glared at you playfully.

You were about to ask what she was referring to when you suddenly remembered. You told her how you may or may not have told Daphne that you were on a rough patch and she volunteered to help make Lou jealous. Both of you shared a laugh as she commented on how effective it was that she had to restrain herself from tearing you apart from the actress.

There was no time to waste, you thought as you pressed your lips against Lou’s. The kiss was slow and passionate, the both of you pouring all your feelings out. Her hand entangled itself on the base of your skull as she deepened the kiss, tongue swiping on your bottom lip asking for entrance. You let her dominate you, a soft moan coaxed out of your mouth.

The only thing you could focus on was the feeling of Lou’s lips; your hammering heart and the waves lapping gently at the shore.

“I love you, baby,” Lou murmured, both of you breathless.

“I know, Lou. I love you too.”

[honeysidesarchived]

WHERE THERE IS NO TEMPTATION, THERE IS NO GLORY.

⊱ a santino d'antonio / oc short-fic

interlude ii ( read on ao3 ) ( masterlist )

words: 2.4k

warnings: none really! just an impending, pervasive sense of doom.

rating: m/t

notes: so happy to have finally gotten this little interlude edited and pieced together! just more soft moments because they deserve it considering what's going to be coming up. thank you everyone who has been reading/interacting with this little love project of mine; it took a minute to get myself dug out of the trenches and posting bite-sized chapters because this is a short-fic is definitely doing something to me (lmao) but we're here!

as always you can find translations on ao3, where it's easier to store them in a place that doesn't get in the way.

There is very little time between when Santino cooks her dinner and when he moves her into his apartment. It happens without much acknowledgment from her; she finds herself swallowed up in moments of casual intimacy that break her down to nothing except a girl in love.

Santino wakes her up by kissing her neck and pulling her against his chest; she makes him dinner barefoot in the kitchen, all of the recipes that her mother taught her, and he drags his hand along her hip to reach over her into the cupboard; he stands still and obedient while Euphemia slides his tie into place, and when he zips her dress for her, he peppers her shoulder with kisses. He tolerates taking a walk through the park, even in the chilliness of late Fall or Winter, because Euphie can’t stand to not get some fresh air once a day. When one of her friends asks why he lets her bully him into the cold weather, he wraps his arms around Euphie with a sly smile and says, “How could I not, when I am the one who gets to warm her up after?”

He is an exceptionally tactile man. There is always a reason for him to touch her, trace each line of her, put his lips against her skin. Santi isn’t a man who loves; he covets. And Euphemia shouldn’t like it as much as she does, but she does. Her therapist says that it isn’t uncommon for a girl who grows up without touching to crave it, desperately, like an addiction.

So, she finds herself living in his loft to feed that addiction—which becomes their loft—and teaching him words in French, and feeding him olives while sauce simmers (and does not boil), and kissing the red-wine taste from his lips. It’s all very romantic and greatly overshadows the moments where Santino comes home raging mad, or when his bad mood takes over their conversation and stirs a fight between them. They’re both hot-headed—her more so than he—and he knows all of the ways to diffuse her while she knows none about him.

But it doesn’t matter, in the end; because Santino always kisses her, and always says, Mi dispiace, cara mi, ti amo, ti amo, ti amo, lip-locking between each break in words until her lungs ache.

Euphie has never wanted to be loved sensibly, anyway.

Making money stops becoming an issue. Santino might have been fine letting her wrap up her loose ends, so to speak, encourages her, even—“You should never leave business undone, my Euphie,”—but he’d never tolerate her continuing to skim out of the pockets of his associates. Not out of respect for them, of course, but because Santino is more than happy to provide.

“I have to do something,” Euphie insists, often. But Santino clicks his tongue and shakes his head, inspiring indignation in her. “That money goes to my mother, Santi.”

“Princesa, what are you worrying for?” He replies every time. In this instance, he is reading over some documents, his voice casual, simple, effective at bringing her to heel. “If your mama needs money, she’ll get it. Tutto quello che vuoi è tuo.”

Euphemia used to think that he was doing it to be generous, but as time goes on, she knows that isn’t the case. If Santino didn’t think he was benefitting from sending her mother money every month, he wouldn’t do it: but he does. Euphemia stops playing at arm candy for other powerful men; he endears himself to her by taking care of her mother; he endears himself to her mother; he’s afforded a sense of control. There is no facet of it where he isn’t getting something out of it. And she thinks, too, that maybe Santino likes it like this, where she is completely reliant on him for everything.

She doesn’t mind so much.

She would, if Santino didn’t drench her in his longing, if he didn’t make her feel, every day, that he is desperate to treasure her. She has always heard about this kind of love—and it is love—and never thought she would have it for herself.

But she does now, and she doesn’t want to let it go.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Tea or coffee, mama?”

Santino is busying himself in the kitchen. They’ve been together for a little over a year now, and they’re on a tour of Italy—not for fun, necessarily, but for integration. They have just spent the last week with Santino’s father and sister, and now they will spend the next two days in the Tuscan countryside with her mother.

Two days for her mother, instead of the week that they gave Santino’s father and sister, in part because his father deserves more time and in part because Euphemia doesn’t think she can tolerate her mother in much more than two-day increments.

“Coffee, please,” her mother says, very charmed by Santino.

“Tea,” Euphemia interjects. She looks at her mother—her face is tired, and older than she really is. Euphie knows that this is a side effect of heavy, abusive drinking and years spent in emotional terror, not the passage of time. Still, she finds it hard to drum up anything except distant pity in her heart. “You don’t need the caffeine.”

“Oh, you always ruin my fun.”

Santino re-enters the room with a small cup—it’s an espresso cup, but he’s poured it with regular coffee.

“A compromise,” Santi explains, handing the cup to her mother, smiling handsomely. “To make both of my girls happy.”

Her mother preens, glows under the affection. “You are so sweet, Santi. A perfect son-in-law.”

He has always called her and her mother his girls. His own mother had passed since before Euphemia; and while he knows that Euphie’s relationship with her mother is strained at best, he does what he can to ease it. Because it makes her happy, he says, and if she’s happy, he’s happy.

“Not yet a son-in-law,” Euphie corrects, and Santino flashes her a quick, amused little smile.

“You see how cruel she is to me, madonna? I have asked her to marry me, you know.”

“Santi,” Euphemia sighs, but it has had its desired effect; her mother looks scandalized, mortified at her daughter’s resistance to marrying a man as good and handsome and charming as Santino.

“Effie, tell me that you haven’t been bullying Santino like this?”

“Mama, there is no reason—he is just teasing. Ascoltami, you don’t need to look so horrified.”

“I do not know where I went wrong with you, Euphemia Sancia.” Her mother clicks her tongue, muttering something under her breath and taking a drink of the coffee Santi made her, and Euphemia can’t bring herself to say that not everything she has done wrong in her life is a slight against her mother’s parenting skills.

Santino smiles and leans across to Euphie, bringing her hand up to kiss it.

“Don’t worry,” he says to her mother, his voice blooming with practiced warmth. “I will ask her as many times as it takes for her to say yes.”

Euphemia feels her heart stutter painfully in her chest. She knows that he means it; he’s suggested it to her three times, now. It seems to be the only thing he doesn’t mind asking more than once.

“She’s always been fussy, my Euphemia,” her mother says, breaking the magic of Santino’s eyes on her. “Never happy with what she has, just like her father. Except for you, Santi—you are the only thing she holds onto.”

Exasperation and disgust flood over her. Both the mention of the man considered to be her father and any similarities they might share has her mood souring. “Mama—”

But Santino is sweeping in, like he always does when he can tell Euphie is getting tired of her mother, coming to a stand and asking her, “We should get started on dinner, cara mia, don’t you think?”

Just like that, he’s taken control of the conversation again. He sees her flailing and steadies her. Euphemia is certain that he doesn’t love her mother—that he doesn’t even like her—but that he can spend his time tolerating her with charm and grace despite knowing what her mother allowed to go on under their roof is indicative of the man that Santino is.

“Yes,” she replies, standing as well. “You look tired, mama. Take a rest while Santi and I make dinner.”

She wanders into the kitchen with Santino trailing after her. As soon as they’re alone, he winds his arms around her waist and kisses the juncture between her shoulder and neck.

“Is it true?” he asks coyly. “That you don’t hold on to anything except for me?”

She doesn’t want to tell him very much, because he knows already, and because to say it out loud will give it legs. A year together, and she still doesn’t want her feelings for him to have legs. Santino splays his fingers against her sternum and kisses her jaw.

“You know that it is,” she says at last, her voice a little unsteady. She can feel Santi smiling against her skin.

“Euphie,” he purrs, “marry me.”

Yes, she wants to say, as her eyes flutter shut. Yes, I’ll marry you, Santi. Anything that you ask. I’ll do anything for you, if you would just keep saying my name like that.

She wants to say it but the words won't come out. There is nothing quite like the feeling of Santino peeling back each individual layer of her defenses, piece by piece; so close, she knows, he is so close, but not quite. Not yet. She is most comfortable keeping him at arm’s length as much as possible—to kiss and to fuck and to let someone hold you at night is one thing. To let someone in past the barbed-wire of defenses is yet another, impossibly reckless. To be seen feeling anything deranges you, as the poets like to say.

“Sancia, hm?” he continues instead, when she can’t bring herself to answer, as the words stick in her throat. It’s one of those things where Santino seems to exercise a surprising amount of patience, this whole ordeal of to marry or not to marry; later, Euphemia will come to understand that it is because Santino believes their life together to be inevitable, that she will always say yes to him, one way or another.

For now, she turns in his arms, cocking a brow at him. He continues, “It means sacred.”

Euphemia nods sagely and props herself up on the counter. “Buon ascolto, my love. I suppose that means you should work very hard to worship me well.”

Santino laughs. He leans in, trapping her against the counter—though it isn’t much of a trap if she’s a willing participant—and noses the slope of her jaw.

“Yes,” he murmurs, “I suppose that it does.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━

On the last leg of their tour of families, Santino insists that they spend a few days in Rome by themselves.

The days are used mostly for doing a lot of nothing; neither of them are particularly interested in sight-seeing, but rather interested in seeing each other, a thing which they don’t seem to tire of particularly quickly. Instead, they shop, or lay in bed together until the afternoon, or go out to eat when street lights kick on and the city takes on a life of its own.

“You are much happier, Euphie,” Santino says one evening, smoothing out his napkin on the table absently, “when you are not around your mother.”

It’s not a question, per se, though she knows that he expects an answer. But she is still young and a little petulant, and she likes to push his buttons and make him say exactly what it is he means, so she takes a sip of her wine and replies, “Yes.”

He arches a brow at her. He looks particularly handsome like this, she thinks—not around his family, just eating dinner in a streetside restaurant in Rome, illuminated in warm candlelight and the glow of the streetlights outside.

“Are you going to tell me why?” he asks, amusedly.

“If you ask.” Euphemia sets her wine glass down on the table, and when Santino reaches for her hand, she lets him take it, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “But it is so boring, Santi, to talk about my mother. Why don’t you ask me about something else?”

The brunette’s mouth is curving in a little smile. “Like…?”

“Like…” Euphie gestures with her free hand, like she has to really think about it. “Euphie, how did I get so lucky to have a woman like you? That is a good place to start. Or, what will you do with me once you get me back to the hotel? Or, Euphie, will I ever be so fortunate as to call you my wife?”

Santino laughs, leaning into their conversation, bringing her fingers up to kiss them. He has long lashes; soft, and dark, and they brush the tops of his cheekbones when his eyes close. Santino glances from her fingers up to her, that boyish grin on his face.

“I already know the answers to the first and last question,” he says casually, like it’s no big deal, but he’s grinning wickedly at her when he says it. She scoffs.

“Dimme poi,” Euphie insists. “I am dying to know, Santi.”

His expression is very sage, very wise, and he nods his head. “Il destino,” he says, winding their fingers together, “e tra un anno.”

There is something very heart-stopping about the way Santino articulates il destino, as though it is fact, as though there is something undeniable about their coming together.

“How do you know?” she asks. “In a year?”

“Because if you do not want to marry me by then,” Santino replies matter-of-factly, “then I am certainly not suited for marriage at all.”

She rolls her eyes, taking a drink of her wine and savoring the way his eyes trail over her, admiring, drinking her in.

“Well?” he prompts. She looks at him expectantly, and he reiterates, his gaze set on her, “What will you do with me once you get me back to the hotel, belladonna?”

Euphemia feels her heart stutter painfully in her chest when he looks at her like that; like she is the only person in the entire universe, like she has become the sun that snags him in her planetary pull, like he will never, ever grow tired of looking at her. It sweeps the breath out of her.

“Anything, mio amato,” she murmurs. “Anything you want, if you promise to never stop looking at me like that.”

[voxofthevoid]

Fandom Etiquette 101: Don’t Be a Dick in the Comment Box

Actually, just don’t be a dick, period, but if you must, then don’t do it in the comment box.

I wouldn’t say I have a thick skin. Things don’t roll off me. I get hurt, I get irritated, and I get incandescently angry.

Thing is, I also have a certain amount of faith in my skills—writing skills, in this case—that has been cultivated by roughly a decade of practice and the experience that comes along with it. I am also not under the impression that my work lacks flaws. Some of these flaws are born of inattention because I write for fun in my free time—time that’s growing more and more sparse as school turned to college turned to grad school turned to a full-time job. Plus, I’ve long since accepted that artistic growth is a never-ending process.

So even if I don’t have a thick skin, if someone shits on my work, I won’t stop writing or doubt myself. I’ll just get royally pissed at the little shit who has the audacity to come into my goddamned yard and tell me how to mow my goddamned lawn.

A lot of writers react the way I do. Others don’t. Be it because they’re newer, more nervous, rejection sensitive, or just have different personalities, the fact remains that a lot of writers will be disheartened, devastated, and/or discouraged by negative feedback. There’s nothing wrong with that.

No writer should have to deal with people being assholes about something they created out of love and shared for free so others sharing that love can partake. Fanfic is free in terms of money, but a ton of emotion and labor goes into it. My work involves staring at MS Word for a minimum of eight hours a day to poke at and pick apart language; it’s not easy to do it for a couple more hours to write and polish that writing. Now, that’s my choice, and one I make because I damn well want to, but the point is that it’s a great deal of effort.

A large part of what makes it worth it is the fandom. Yes, I write for myself, because there are stories in me that want out, and no, I won’t let others dictate  what I write or the way I write it. But reader engagement is a gift—a treasured one. The interactions, the conversations, the sense of a larger community—all of that means a lot to me. I think most, though likely not all, fic writers will agree on that. For me, every Ao3 email heralding a comment brings with it a thrilling jolt of pleasure.

But the sweetness of that jolt turns sour very fast if the comment in question contains negativity. And I do mean contain. A comment doesn’t have to be wholly hateful or dismissive to ruin a writer’s day. Criticism sandwich is all well and good to those who’ve asked for constructive criticism, but to those that haven’t, that sandwich will just taste like shit, regardless of how delicious the padding. Tumblr has many long, in-depth discussion posts about unsolicited concrit, so I won’t rehash everything here. Suffice to say that not all writers are using fanfic as practice for “real” writing, nor do all of us aim to actively improve. And the ones who do want constructive criticism often have trusted betas or writing groups for that purpose. Unsolicited criticism dropped into the comment section of a published work isn’t as constructive as the commenter fancies it to be.

And then there are those comments that don’t bother with the sandwich method or any niceties. I’ve seen plenty of these in both my works and those of others, and they range from comically insulting to polite but infuriating. Honestly, I find the former to be easier to handle—if someone’s being an asshole in my inbox, it’s simple enough to tell them to fuck off. The nicely phrased ones are trickier, for obvious reasons. But fact is, if someone has read thousands of words and can only leave a comment pointing out some drawback— for instance, a typo, some factual inaccuracy, OOCness, or even continuity errors—then the problem lies with the reader, not the writer. But the writer, who’s often the one more emotionally attached to and invested in their craft, is the one who bears the brunt of the damage.

They shouldn’t have to. We shouldn’t have to.

So, to reiterate, don’t be a dick in the comment box. If you have nothing nice to say, hush and click that pretty red X. If the writer hasn’t asked for concrit, don’t give it. If you liked the story but have the burning urge to tell the writer everything they got wrong, take a good look in the mirror and ask yourself some hard questions.

[zafirosreverie]

Share my infinite (Agatha x Fem!reader) Part 2

A/N: This is long, guys. But i didn't want to do two parts for this, since i still have to do another one for the reader's recovery. Also, I have a huge headache, so forgive any mistakes.

Anyway, i hope you like it! ^ - ^

You ran as fast as you could, voices screaming with rage behind you. They will kill you. 

“Shit” you growled when you tripped with a branch. You got up quickly and continued running, but that second was enough for the dogs to come closer to you. Those stupid dogs and their stupid owners, why couldn’t they leave you alone?! You didn’t do anything to them and yet they were hunting you, just because of your “family”. 

“I don’t even have the last name” you mumbled. 

You were part of a rich family that was respected among the people of your town, but you were never a part of it. You were the odd one, the freak, the mistake. You were the only one that inherited your grandfather's...condition. 

At some point in the family’s story, someone thought it was cool and a good idea messing up with dark magic and ended up marrying a vampire, condemning the entire lineage to fear for the purity of their blood. By the time you were born, that was just a legend, something the parents told their childs to make them behave. 

“Y/N, stop doing that” your mother would say. “It must be the vampire in her” your father would add. 

You were a pretty curious girl, which led to many misbehaviours, so you heard that phrase too often. 

“Wish something really hard and it will become a reality” you thought with sarcasm. 

When you were 8, the nightmare began. You had just lost your baby teeth and your new ones were appearing. Your parents thought it was cute, but then, your new fangs came and they screamed in horror. They were too long to be normal. They were like your grandfather’s. They were vampire’s fangs.

At first, they tried to pull them out, it hurted like hell, but they didn’t move. So, your parent’s kept you hiden, not even the rest of the family could see you (you would later hear that they didn’t want to). The only person that you were allowed to interact with, was the grandfather himself. He was actually your great great great great great great grandfather, but allowed you to call him Grandpa or Grandfather. Your parents decided that you were no longer their daughter, so he gave you his last name. His real one.

He was sweet and nice with you, teaching you how to retract your fangs and everything he knew about your condition. He told you that you shouldn’t worry, that it was something that happened every generation. Your uncle Nicholás had it too, so it wasn’t anything you couldn’t control. 

What he didn’t tell you was that uncle Nick was burned alive for it.

You weren't a full vampire, you only had a few remnants of vampire blood in your veins. Grandpa was sure that, with every generation that had the condition, it became weaker and weaker, so he had faith that you would be the last one to have it. And he was right. 

You were the last one. None of your nephews or nieces got it, nor their children or grandchildren or great grand children. You were there for the babies’ births, and for their deaths too. Generations came and went, but you remained the same. You stopped aging at 22, and were trapped like that ever since. Your grandfather died long after your great grand nephews did, but it proved that you were not eternal.

As the years passed, you became kind of a myth among the family, the maiden who didn't age. The ghost of the library. The shadow of the house. Generation after generation, you became just another part of the family heritage, something that came with being part of the Van Dales. Everyone treated you like another decoration.

Until now.

These new people (you had stopped thinking of the new generations as your family long ago) decided it wasn’t fair that you got to enjoy all the money while they had to die. It was a stupid argument, but that didn’t matter. You knew they just wanted to get rid of you. And that’s what they did. 

They spread the word around the town, that whoever brought your head to them would be rewarded with part of the family treasure. You barely had time to grab a small bag with your belongings (the ones you had since you were a child) before you were carried out of the house and into the woods.

They didn't tell you why, just to wait and they left you there. A few minutes later you heard the footsteps of the people and a man saying that he would be the one to kill you and claim the reward.

You started running in that very second.

“don’t change, don’t change, don’t change” you begged, feeling your eyes burning. 

One of the things that you learnt the hard way was that when you were in danger, your e/c eyes would change to dark red, and then you would go into a frenzy. That meant you would become a murder machine, and you didn’t want that even if it was your last hope. 

“Of all the things I got from the vampires, why couldn't it be super speed?” you thought as you heard the men coming closer. Your legs were burning and your lungs were about to explode.  

You weren’t paying much attention, so you didn’t notice the air changing nor the energy around you. You needed to escape. 

You tripped again and you cursed. But you couldn't hear the dogs or the men anymore. You lost them? How? They were right behind you, there was no chance that you could have lost them.

But you needed to rest so you weren't complaining at all. It didn't last for too long. 

You heard a leaf crushing and steps close to you. You stood up quickly and prepared to run again, but something stopped you. You couldn't move, as if your feet were glued to the earth. 

"Well, well. What do we have here?" A voice said behind you. You froze and your eyes started to burn again. The person walked around you and you saw the most beautiful woman ever. Her eyes and hands were glowing with a purple light and suddenly you understood why you couldn’t move. She was a witch. 

Your grandfather taught you about witches, saying that, just like you, they were usually misunderstood, and that you shouldn’t be afraid of them. Even if you ever meet an evil witch, the vampire blood in you would protect you. The fact that her magic had an effect on you, meant that she actually didn’t want to hurt you. 

"Aren't you a precious little thing?” she asked and you couldn’t help but notice how lovely her voice was. “What are you doing here, darling?” 

You opened your mouth but closed it again. There was so much to explain but words didn’t come to you at the moment. You remained silent for a few moments before trying to speak again.

“I- I escaped” you whispered, making the woman raise her eyebrow.

“escaped? from what?” she asked, stepping closer to you.

“Men” you simply said. Her presence was making you nervous and you felt your cheeks blushing. 

Your answer seemed to be enough for her and she nodded, unwrapping you from her magic.You noticed her eyes turned to an ice blue color and you gasped. They were the most beautiful eyes you’ve ever seen.

“What’s your name?” she asked. 

“Y/N” 

“Y/N” she repeated and your heart jumped a little. You loved the way your name sounded in her voice. “Come with me” she said and started walking. You blinked and stood there for a moment before you quickly followed her. You didn’t know her, but it was this witch or the hunters. 

They didn’t have beautiful blue eyes or a lovely voice. So the choice was easy.

She took you to a small cabin, surrounded by big trees and a little pond on the side. You blinked and blushed as she opened the door for you. The simple interior made you feel warm and protected. She saw you wandering around the room, watching her things carefully, not touching anything but being interested in them.

You noticed her smile and stopped walking, taking a step back. She was staring at you as if you were her prey, which, to be fair, might be the case. 

“Didn’t anyone tell you that you don’t follow strangers into their houses, love?” she finally asked after a long moment of just staring at you. 

Agatha was intrigued by you. You shouldn't be here. You shouldn’t have been able to pass the barrier she put around her house, not even other witches could do it. But most importantly, you shouldn’t be standing there as if you were comfortable in her presence. As if you weren’t afraid of her.

“I’ve been living with strangers for a long time” you said honestly and shrugged “i guess i’m not afraid of them anymore”

That made Agatha even more curious. She walked to you and locked eyes with you. You were a little surprised by it, but you didn’t look away. 

“You’re like me” she said softly, and you shrugged again.

“I guess so?”

The witch didn’t want to have high hopes, but she had been alone for almost 200 years now and the possibility of having some company was enough to let you stay some days. At least until she discovered more about you and how much power you had.

_________

“Don't” Agatha warned you, not lifting her eyes from her book “whatever you’re thinking, don’t”

You giggled and ignored her “I’m not doing anything, Aggie” you lied and she sighed. 

She was about to turn around to see what you were planning, when she felt your cold hands in the back of her neck, making her jump.

“Y/N!!!” she yelled and you laughed, watching her shivering. 

“Got ya!” you said when she turned to face you

“Those are ice! Are you sure you’re not dead?” she asked with sarcasm and fake anger, but the blush on her cheeks gave her away. 

“Could be. I haven’t checked my pulse today” you joked and she chuckled. 

You had been living with her for a year, and she had fallen head over heels for you. You were sweet, charming, always had a smile on your beautiful face and you were always finding ways to make her laugh. You were kind and loving towards her, making her loneliness fade away. 

But you were also naughty as hell. 

You loved making pranks, jokes and chaos. She was your favorite target, but it was something almost innocent, nothing that a child couldn’t do (a part of her knew it was because you were forced to grow up too quickly, so you were just doing what you wanted to do back then), but that benevolence didn’t extend to other people.

Your pranks and jokes were anything but innocent when the targets were people from the town near the forest. It made sense, because they were the same people that tried to kill you a year ago. But you once told her that you actually just enjoyed causing chaos, which made her fall in love with you even more. She loved being by your side whenever you caused something among the humans. It was a magnificent artwork, a chaotic, kind of evil, maniac, artwork. And it had both of your signaments in the corner.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t notice you talking to her. When you looked at her and saw that you had lost her at some point, an evil grin appeared on your face. Well, you were not a person that decline opportunities. 

Agatha gasped when you pushed her to the pond. 

“Y/N!!!!” she yelled again and you laughed harder. 

“That’ll teach you not to ignore me when I’m trying to declare my love for you, Harkness” you joked and walked to the house. 

The witch sighed as she stood and used her magic to dry herself. That has been your most cruel joke to this day. 

When she met you, she assumed you were a witch. You crossed her barrier, after all, so you must be a powerful one. But when she tried to steal your magic when you were asleep, she sensed it was too weak, she could barely call it magic at all. 

That confused her so much. How did you cross then? This amount of magic was not enough to do it. The next day, she confronted about it and you just blinked. 

“You think i’m a witch?” you asked before you giggled “I’m a vampire” you said and left her speechless. 

You taught her everything you knew about your condition, but it wasn’t too much since your family just wanted you to hide yourself. So she tried to learn everything she could about vampires. You frowned and said that if she was going to learn about your kin, then you wanted to learn about hers.

And just like that, your lessons started. The first days, you two sat at the table with a pile of books in front of you, but that plan disappeared the moment you saw her stretching to make her back more comfortable. You took the books and threw them on the floor, making Agatha gasp, then you took her hand and made her lie beside you on the wood. You’ve never used chairs for study or reading since then.

The joke started when she started to teach you some tricks. They were pretty simple and basic, but she loved the look in your face when you got one of them right. One day, you were so happy to finally do a spell you were trying for weeks, that you kissed her cheek with excitement and her mind went blank, her cheeks burning. You noticed it and never let her live with it.

Since then, you would make comments or do things that made her believe you might feel the same, but then you would just laugh and leave her with a hole in her chest. 

“Aggie?” you asked softly. You had noticed that she didn’t follow you and after a moment, you went out again to make sure she was okay. You frowned when you saw her just standing there, lost in her thoughts.  

You carefully took her hand and she jumped, looking at you. 

“Are you ok?” you asked and she nodded, removing her hand from yours. 

“I’m fine, Y/N” she said and your frown deepened. She never used that tone with you. The “I have something in my mind but you wouldn’t understand so let’s pretend i’m alright” tone. You took her face in your hands and made her lock eyes with you. 

“Don’t lie to me” you whispered 

Agatha stared at you for a moment before she sighed. She couldn’t. She always thought she was strong enough to lie to everyone, to take what she needed and do what she wanted. But you, you made her weak. And she would do anything for you. Even expose her heart and let you break it.

“Please don’t do it” she said “please don’t make jokes about your love for me. Not when we both know you don’t mean it.”

You frowned again in confusion, but when you understood her words, you blushed and felt your pulse racing. 

“Who said i don’t mean it?” you asked softly, caressing her cheek.

“NO!” Agatha said, more harsh than she intended “Don’t do it Y/N.” she said, whispering again “Please. Don’t give me false hopes. I can’t take it” she begged and you felt guilt invading you.

You had been making those jokes because they were the only way you could get your own feelings out of your chest without actually risking your friendship with the witch. If you had known she felt the same way…

Agatha gasped when she felt your lips against hers. She wasn’t expecting this, but she had been wanting to do it for so long that she took the opportunity. She wrapped her arms around your waist and pulled you closer to her. Your lips were too soft and she would be happy to lose herself in them.

“I’m sorry” you whispered when you broke the kiss “I’m sorry i didn’t tell you before” 

That made her open her eyes. There was a silent question in them, and only your own eyes had the answer. 

You kissed her again, and again, and again, wanting to erase all the doubts you accidentally planted in her mind. Each kiss was an apology and a promise. No words were needed at that moment.

[dutchdread]

In regard to what you said about how what Squall and Rinoa had wasn't necessarily true love because of them being teenagers, why is it that you even consider that Cloud and Tifa had true love when Cloud is technically a teenager too? Why do you say that you wouldn't like Aerith if she had survived and ended up with Cloud? You act as if Aerith ending up with Cloud is a bad thing. If Aerith survives things could've ended up happening differently for Cloud. He could've ended up happier with her.

To answer this question I think it's important to understand the difference between love and lust, I advise reading an earlier article I wrote about this:

"what is love, baby don't hurt me" There are a couple of things to address here. First, I am not sure I ever said that what Tifa and Cloud had at the end of FFVII was "true love". It's something that I think is up for debate, the fact that they haven't spent a lot of time together yet as actual adults makes me sympathetic to the idea that it's not really that far yet. Personally I find that they satisfy the conditions necessary for it to count as love, but you won't hear me pretend it's already at the same level as the love shared between my parents, who've been together for 40 years. Even in love there are degrees, love can always grow stronger, and I have no doubt that in case of Cloud and Tifa, it would. I am not pretending they start out as the ultimate pinnacle of perfect or true love. One of the most telling differences I think between people who support Cloti, and the people who support Clerith, is that the former are simply more in touch with reality. That having been said, like I mentioned earlier, I do think Tifa and Cloud satisfy the conditions of love that I describe in my article, I'll quickly go over why, but before I do, I think it's important to answer your first question first. "If being teenagers precludes Rinoa and Squall from having true love, why doesn't that same logic apply to Tifa and Cloud?" Well, the short answer is that being a teenager does NOT preclude you from loving someone, and I didn't say that it does. My argument is a bit more subtle than that. It's not that teenagers can't feel love, it's that it's very easy for teenagers to mistake infatuation with love. It's important here to distinguish between two different emotions, no one doubts of course that teenagers love, for instance, their parents, but we both understand that that's not exactly what is meant by love in the romantic sense. We also all know that we can be nervous around a boy or a girl that we barely know, and feel physically attracted to them. However, I think that everyone whose ever had more than one relationship in their life knows that that isn't love, it's merely attraction and a physiological response. It doesn't involve the same deep appreciation and closeness of a person that we associate with love. For me personally, the first girlfriend I ever had was someone I actually rather disliked before they suddenly confessed that they were attracted to me. When we were sitting on her couch a while later with her pressed against my arm my heart was beating out of my chest, I was more nervous than I ever had been before in my life and was borderline hyperventilating. But that had nothing to do with her, and all to do with me being a young boy who was about to make out with a cute girl. But that nervousness isn't love, I didn't love that girl, honestly, even while dating her I still didn't even like her that much as a person, and that "nervousness" quickly faded. My heart beating out of my chest...was not love, conversely, when I am with the person I actually do love, my heart is completely at peace. True romantic love I think lies at the intersection of those two emotions, where you long to be with someone physically, not because your heart is beating too fast, but because they're the physical representation of the complete and complex set of characteristics that make up that person. A state where you understand both yourself, and them, and understand that through everything you have become a part of each other. You would not be yourself if they're not there, because a part of you would be missing. The problem with teenagers in love isn't that they can't form the feelings of such a bond, but that they too often think that's what they're feeling when all it is is raging hormones. They think they can never live without each other but they'll have a new sweetheart 2 months later, because it's the nervousness, the beating chest, the excitement, and not the long deep appreciation of who the other person is and what they actually mean to you. They just feel new strong urges and emotions and ascribe meaning to them

when there barely is any. They lack the mutual understanding that sharing time together creates and which is necessary to understand who the other really is, and what that means. They lack the knowledge of the self needed to understand what is important in life and more importantly, what is, or should be, important to YOU and why. They lack the life experience needed to differentiate between love and infatuation, and they lack the wisdom needed make positive choices concerning which feelings to nurture, which often makes them subservient to their emotions rather than guiding them. Love takes time, it takes commitment, it takes understanding, it takes choices and the willingness to sacrifice, those are the things that bind two people together, through thick and thin, as they say. The good, and the bad. In a way, Cloud and Tifa perfectly represent that long slowly developing strength of mutual importance, while Aerith is more like a representation of the temporary hurricane of affection that we often ascribe with something new. This is the reason why Aerith was described by the developers as being like an exchange student who leaves midway through the schoolyear. This is the reason why Cloti is so often described as a "slow burn". The reason Cloud and Tifa are slightly exempt from the "teenagers in love" problem, although it does still factor in, is that their bond didn't start a week before the end of the game. Their bond started when they were kids. Tifa has been an integral part of Clouds life for his entire life, to the point where he decided to join SOLDIER, aka, the army, just in the hopes of getting Tifa to notice him. That is a decision, that is a commitment, that is Cloud tying Tifa into his sense of self ever since he was a boy, he didn't just sit around "wanting" her, he made a decision, to not just "desire her" or be "in love" with her, but an active decision to live his life with her as a central part of it. Those sorts of decisions and action form what you care about and value, what you deem as important, what you see as "you" and your life. Cloud had a type of love for Tifa long before he ever started developing any sexual urges. And Tifa doesn't just fit what he sees as important, he has made her important his entire life. In a way, he's molded himself over time so that the things he treasures, are the things she exhibits. More than that, the entire premise of Clouds character arc is rooted in him finding his true self. I mentioned earlier that a crucial part of love is knowing who you are, and what you treasure and why, and FFVII literally gives us a direct manifestation of Cloud finding himself in the lifestream.....and it's Tifa. There is no question here of whether Cloud knows who he is, what he treasures in a woman, and whether Tifa fits that mold, because Tifa made that mold. Concerning time, Cloud spent over a decade being in love with Tifa, she's not just a part of who he is, but she's such a part of who he is that when he lost her belief in him, he lost faith in himself and who he is. There is no question that these two characters lives are fundamentally emotionally intermingled. Cloud would not be Cloud without Tifa. And the same goes for Tifa, who has always held the image of Cloud close as a sort of representation of what is important. First like an unattainable star in the sky, then as a boy. Cloud is not just someone who has always been important to her, he's also her last link to her childhood, those things form bonds. Tifa is compassionate, and I've always been able to pinpoint the moment where in my opinion Tifa went from having a crush, to displaying true love, and its' the moment where she decides to spend that last days of her life caring for Cloud in a coma. That is not a small decision, and those decisions matter, they're not just telling the world something, they're telling YOURSELF something. When you make such a decision, you cement what is important to you. Through thick and thin. Tifa chose Cloud, she chose to believe in the memories they share together, not of the

memories of the last few weeks, but of the boy who asked her to the water tower all those years ago. Tifa, like Cloud, found herself during FFVII, Tifa knew what she cherished, it wasn't soldier Cloud, it was the Cloud she knew, the REAL Cloud, and her selflessness and conviction is rewarded.

I'd say that pretty much says it all, the groundwork is in place, the only thing needed after that is for a person to CHOOSE to go for it, to not give up, and that's what we get in the events before, during, and after ACC. That the two are willing to sacrifice and work on it, because they know that the other is worth it. And Tifa and Cloud have that as well. When Tifa is feeling down in case of Tifa, Cloud says he'll be there for her, when Cloud is having difficulties in ACC, Tifa never gives up on him. Ultimately Tifa is the glue of this relationship, because she has proven that she will never give up, and that's why her love is real, and why Cloud and Tifa ultimately will succeed as a couple. Cloud and Tifa have a difficult start to their relationship because of factors external to their feelings towards each other, but when you purely look at the basis of their relationship and feelings for each other, it's one of the strongest foundations in fiction. They have to weather a lot of storms together, but the reason the story can throw those storms at them, is that they have the foundation that allows them to handle it and grow stronger. "Why do you say that you wouldn't like Aerith if she had survived and ended up with Cloud?" I don't say that, I say that I don't like the Aerith version that exists in the minds of Clerith, and I don't. What I say specifically about Aerith surviving and ending up with Cloud is that I don't like that story, I think it would be a fundamentally bad story. I do say that I would not like Aerith if she knew the future, or anything really about the relationship between Tifa and Cloud, and still chose to try and get between that. Because setting aside all the shameless "Cloud/Tifa doesn't own Tifa/Cloud, they can do what they want" arguments, we all know that if your friend has someone they've cared about for a long time, and they're hitting in off, and you then try to get between that....you're scum, and I do not want you in my group of friends. I've known people like that, they're not kind. I also say that I wouldn't like that character, which is different from not liking Aerith as a person. A person can be sweet and likable and I can still not like their character if I think that the character is a hindrance to the story. "If Aerith survives things could've ended up happening differently for Cloud. He could've ended up happier with her." And if pigs had wings perhaps they could fly, or perhaps they couldn't. Perhaps had Aerith lived Cloud would have somehow married Scarlet, or perhaps if Aerith had lived Cloud would have been miserable and drank himself to death. I don't care about baseless speculation. Listen, I have no doubt that if Aerith had lived, Cloud would be happier, since it would be one less death on his consciousness, but he'd be happier WITH TIFA, Aerith living or dying has zero impact on who he ends up with and saying "maybe" is absolutely meaningless. Maybe if Aerith had lived, Tifa would have died, and the world would have ended because I don't need to be a fortune teller to predict that if Tifa died, Cloud wouldn't have come back from that. Honestly, saying "perhaps if Aerith had lived he'd be happier with her" is such a blatant attempt at trying to sneak shit past the radar that it honestly bugs me, you can take that implication back to the Clerith boards where dishonest takes live.

[two-thirtyammusings]

seaside

she glanced at laurie desperately, searching his eyes for the amusement he often had when she was young and bratty and stupid. but there was no amusement, only understanding. that understanding was something that she could never get used to, and it made her shiver each time she found it.

summary: a more reflective, detailed look at laurie and amy’s budding relationship in europe.

a/n: welcome to my blog! i have lots of random fics in my notes app, so i’d thought i’d share, just in case anyone happened to enjoy it :)

the tide pulled itself in as the pair grazed the shoreline. they strolled silently, eyes fixated on the rocky sand. amy made it a habit to pause every couple of steps, yanking treasures from the sand like a greedy toddler with grubby fingers. her gaze finally shifted from the collection of granulated stones and shells at her feet to the rough, choppy water. the ocean seemed to pull at her heartstrings with every crash, the salty mist reversing the clock, taking her back to a time of golden sun and kites and pastel ribbons. but there was no sun, no kites, and no ribbons. the sky was blanketed in grey, reflecting on the sea. it was a vast expanse of nothing. she figured that she could recreate that exact scene by simply draping her brush in one bland color.

and suddenly she was feeling that yearning again. the yearning for her first loves. she missed her sisters more than she knew she could. that yearning coursed through her veins, personifying itself in a twisted expression of disdain. laurie averted his eyes from the sand, studying her face for a few minutes before quipping,

“why the long face? was that rock not everything you hoped it would be? you know ames, not everything can be as beautiful as you”

he bowed half hazardously, bumping into her side. she giggled, as she’s always done around him, shaking her head and tossing the mundane stone she held back into the water. they walked on for a few minutes before amy finally broke the silence,

“i miss them,” she murmured, “i didn’t realize that being away this long would suck so much. and no one’s told me how beth is. it’s like —it’s like they think i can’t handle it or something” she glanced at laurie desperately, searching his eyes for the amusement he often had when she was young and bratty and stupid. but there was no amusement, only understanding. that understanding was something that she could never get used to, and it made her shiver each time she found it.

“i think,” laurie began, “i think that they only reason they won’t tell you anything about beth is because of beth.”

amy scoffed, dropping her eyes, in search of another worn out pebble or halved shell,

“is that another one of your riddles?”

“no,” laurie smiled. her stubbornness was oddly pleasing to him. it wasn’t the haughty, brazen sort of stubbornness he was used to. the kind jo championed and he also, regrettably, exhibited. no, amy’s stubbornness was a quiet kind. one that was resolute, but had no neediness to it. this form of stubbornness seemed so out of character for the extravagant little girl she once was. he marveled at how much she had changed since their childhood in concord. somehow europe, arguably the most pompous, garish, vain location on God’s green earth, humbled her. laurie found himself staring at her again, rapidly gathering what his next sentence was meant to be,

“c’mon you know that way bethy is. she wouldn’t want you to worry. not when you’re halfway across the world and virtually helpless—“

amy raised her eyebrows,

“you think i’m helpless? clearly you haven’t met me yet.”

laurie hesitated, careful to lace his words with some level of decorum,

“no, okay, of course i don’t think you’re a helpless person. but you have to admit it ames, no amount of stress here can change what happens there. beth might not be some brilliant mind, but she’s not an idiot.”

amy nodded, pursing her lips. her eyes were trained on the ground, and she deftly snatched up another relic. this time, it was a shell, the kind that seemed to swirl and swirl endlessly. she examined the shell with an artist’s eye, scouring each inch of its sovereign design. then, with an hum of contentment, she slipped the object into her jacket pocket.

“how many more of those things are you gonna steal?” laurie teased.

“as many as i can,” amy jabbed at the boy’s side, “and besides, it’s not stealing unless we’re in a national park or something.”

“okay, okay” laurie threw his hands up in defeat, “so it’s not stealing. but, why are you collecting all this crap anyways? is it for a piece or something?”

“nah,” amy kicked at the sand, her demeanor slowly loosening, “i just collect them to look at ‘em at i guess” she shrugged, scouting for more of nature’s knick knacks.

“that’s just like you,” laurie mused, “seeing the beauty in everything.”

“oh don’t worry,” amy snorted, “i’m still that old vanity you once knew. trust me, it’s never that deep, i just like pretty things.”

“yeah,” laurie sighed, “yeah i’m not so sure about that.”

“about what?” amy stopped dead in her tracks, looking at him with those wide doll-like eyes he was certain she had lost in paris.

“i’m not so sure that you’re still that old vanity,” laurie’s lips twitched upwards into not-quite-a-grin, “though i’m also not so sure if you were ever an old vanity.”

“yeah right,” amy scoffed, though she knew, in her heart that he was right. the pair resumed their walk, only commenting on the patterns of sediment or the peculiar actions of nearby gulls. laurie noted how content they were together. they often didn’t need words to communicate. it’s as if they were of one mind. this type of silence was something he hadn’t ever enjoyed. not even with jo.

laurie shuddered at the thought.

[yuueee]

 ★ 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐧𝐚 - relationship headcanons

song: pnb rock: selfish - slowed

word count: 1351

requested?: yes

★ - 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

↬ - so first off, Desna does not have the exact same personality as his twin sister Eska. while they do share many similarities in their personalities (they’re both introverts obvi), I don’t think he would just “claim” someone the way that she did - he would have to get to know you first. he gives me vibes of getting into a close friends to lovers type deal. having said that you’d most likely meet him by working with or near him in some way? like you may have some form of a job working in the northern water tribe or are the daughter of someone who works with Unalaq. at first, you might think that he’s kinda mean or rude because he seems a bit cold or deadpan, but you eventually realize it’s not intentional. he doesn’t dislike you, it just takes him a while to warm up to someone. you eventually go from not speaking at all to curt nods or simple hello’s - still not much but hey we’re getting somewhere right?

★ - 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬

↬ - knowing each other for some time, you notice that you two have slowly gotten closer. it’s nothing too serious, but sometimes after a day of work he might ask if you wanted to get dinner together since you both haven’t eaten in a while. another example is if he has some free time on his hands, he’ll spend it chatting it up with you over common interests. he enjoyed being in your presence so he made it a point to be around you as often as possible. I take it that he might be a bit dense in terms of his emotional feelings so he might not realize this constant longing to be around you is a crush.

★ - 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

↬ - after a while, he comes to the realization that this yearning to reach and grab your hand or envelope you in a hug isn’t platonic. the problem is, he doesn’t know how to approach you with this information. as I stated before he is not Eska, he will not run up and grab you to confess his feelings. however, he doesn’t have anyone else to turn to for help besides his twin sister and his mother Malina (he had way too much pride to go to her about it), and settles for the first option. being her usual sassy self, Eska simply tells her brother to give you a betrothal necklace like she did with Bolin, to which he ignores her advice. he figures that he’ll just have to find some way to tell you on his own. he knew this wouldn’t be easy for himself, but he couldn’t just continue to live with these feelings without at least letting you know - even in the unfortunate case that you didn’t return them. 

the next time the both of you shared a meal held an awkwardness that you hadn’t felt since the two of you first met. Desna was often quiet, one of the things that attracted you to him - he was always attentive and listening, unlike others who would just talk over you at times. sensing that something may have been wrong, you decided to speak up. 

“Desna did I do something wrong” you asked, tilting your head in concern. you had never known him to be this silent, especially when he had that trip to the southern water tribe with his father and Eska coming up - he normally would have gone on a rant by now. 

“why would you think that?” he questioned, raising a eyebrow. you let a small sigh pass through your lips in irritation. 

“you haven’t spoken for the past hour.”

“and?”

“you were just being more quiet than usual.” you responded, sounding slightly defeated. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I guess I’ll leave you alone for the evening, I don’t want to be a bother.”

he felt a pang in his heart at the tone of your voice, the last thing he wanted to do was to hurt or upset you. 

“I’m sorry.”

“what are you talking about Desna?” you retorted back, still a bit agitated from his attitude towards you a few moments ago.

“I was being more reserved than normal because I was trying to figure out how to confess my feelings for you.”

“Wha-?” you sputtered incredulously, unsure of what to do with his sudden declaration. it had been no secret to your fellow peers of your attraction to him from the day you met him. you hadn’t ever dreamed that he would even consider returning your love so it had never crossed your mind to actually confess. 

“I understand if you don’t accept my fee-mmph!” the bone crushing hug you encased him in didn’t allow him to complete his sentence.

“I accept. I like you too.” you answered softly, feeling your heart grow warm as he gently wrapped his arms around your lower back - resting his head on your shoulder. 

★ - 𝐜𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠

↬ it’s probably no secret that Desna wouldn’t be the most affectionate one in a relationship, especially near the beginning or start of it. your relationship actually hadn’t changed in many ways after your mutual confession, other than him being a bit more possessive than usual. and not possessive in the gross toxic way either. he craved being in your presence more than anyone else he had encountered, you gave him a sort of peace away from the day to day madness that was being one of the chiefs of the northern tribe. 

when you accompanied his family on their trip to the south, you began to notice some things. while in public he would simply stand or sit near you - in complete privacy it was another story. (you cannot tell me that this man is not touch starved.) he seemed to always be touching you in some way or another. whether it was linking your pinkies or him resting his head in your lap so you could run your hands through his hair. you were the only person he allowed himself to be vulnerable with. 

also, just because he isn’t touchy with you in public doesn’t mean that he’s embarrassed to be with you or something of that nature. he would just rather treasure those moments alone with you.  

★ - 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬

↬ other than almost murdering Bolin with ice spikes for attempting to have a conversation with you, you could say that your time at the glacier spirits festival was quite fun. you may have even seen Desna crack the smallest of smiles once or twice, which wasn’t often at all. it didn’t mean he wasn’t happy with you though - he just shows his happiness in other ways like that weird laugh. watching his twin sister drag around the poor earthbender was also pretty funny to the both of you. 

after the festival had closed for the evening and everyone returned back to their respective places to sleep for the evening - the two of you decided to spend some time alone and stargaze. as cheesy as it sounded, the night sky filled to the brim with stars was possibly one of the most beautiful things you had ever seen in your life. nuzzling your head further atop his shoulder, you let your somewhat sleepy eyes rake across the vast expanse of darkness 

“it looks so beautiful” you whispered quietly, in attempt not to wake anyone else up even though you two were sitting atop a hill a good 30 feet away from where everyone else had gone to sleep. 

sitting up some and gazing upon your features whilst ignoring the slight burning sensation in his cheeks (that was totally just from the cold weather), he responded. 

“not as beautiful as you.” as soon as you turnt your head towards your boyfriend in confusion (saying cheesy things was your job, not his) - you were met with a warm pair of lips for a brief moment. before you could even register what had occured, he pulled away and rested his head atop your own.

Desna was undoubtably a strange man, but you loved him regardless. 

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @practicallylivesonline

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

❥𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓮𝓾𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓐𝓷𝓭𝓻𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓭𝓪

𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: 𝑃𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑢𝑠! 𝐶ℎ𝑜𝑖 𝐽𝑜𝑛𝑔ℎ𝑜× 𝐴𝑛𝑑𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑑𝑎! 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 (𝐹𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑒)

𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: 𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑠𝑡, 𝐹𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓, 𝐹𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑠𝑦/𝐺𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑘 𝑀𝑦𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑦 𝐴𝑈

𝑊𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝐶𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 7.8𝐾

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: 𝑀𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑔𝑖𝑜𝑛, 𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑎𝑙 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠, 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ, 𝑤𝑟𝑎𝑡ℎ 𝑜𝑓 𝑔𝑜𝑑𝑠, 𝑖𝑛𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑒, 𝑠𝑒𝑎 𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑠𝑦/𝑚𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑙 𝑠𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑠

“𝐹𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑎𝑦 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑎𝑙𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑦 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒, 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝐼 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡.

𝑌𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑜𝑛 𝐼 𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑒, 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑠 𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑦 𝑠𝑘𝑦…..

𝑌𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑦 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒.”- 𝑈𝑛𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤𝑛

༺═──────────────═༻

The young woman lifted her head up slowly, her eyes still not opening. Instead, they scrunched up as the sun's rays pierced through the slight opening of the silk turquoise drapes that covered the large glass window of her balcony. She felt a slight tingling sensation of pins in needles run down her back as she straightened up and stretched out her back, which was very sore from sleeping on her chair and desk, bent over the book she had gotten lost into the night before.

Humming softly, she scooted her chair back and got up, cramping up slightly. She picked up her treasured book and put it back on the shelf, laying it to rest along with its fellow literary companions that never failed to bring her joy as she poured over their contents time and time again, never getting bored of what her mother would often call 'silly and unrealistic romance fables'. Her mother was on the more practical side of things, when she wasn't on the other side of her mirror that is. It was no secret her mother was the most vain and self loving woman the kingdom, constantly boasting about her looks, her arrogance and pride could be heard from miles away.

The young princess hurried to dress herself, a task she had preferred doing with no help from her hand maidens since 2 years ago, knowing they'd only fashion her in the flashy and extravagant style her mother preferred, which was not at all to her liking. She was more comfortable in simple tunics with no ornaments at all, but today her mother specifically requested her to put on her best dress as it was to be a special day for her. So there she was, dressing herself in a luxurious forest green robe with golden flowers threaded onto the sleeves and hem of the dress. The scratchy material irritated her skin, but still she had to admit she looked very pretty. Fastening her hair with a gold colored brooch that was shaped like a leaf, she walked out into the long corridor, the passing servants greeting her as she made her way to the throne room where her father was probably already waiting.

"Morning father."

She came up and kissed his head, giving him a warm and fond smile.

"How are you my little star?" He greeted her with the nickname he's called her since she was a child.

"Ready to help you out in the inventories and with sorting through the official documents and drafts."

Over time, she'd grown to help take over some of the duties her father attended to since there was never a male heir.

Her father waved a hand dismissively.

"Not today I'm afraid. Today.....there's is something else that must be taken care of."

Before she could even ask what that was, the glorious queen herself bursted through the doors.

"Andromeda my darling daughter!"

Her mother smothered her in a crushing embrace that was more painful than endearing. The poor girl was being suffocated by her mother's strength and her overwhelming lavender scent she always sprayed on.

"Mmom- mom, remember we aren't supposed to call me by that name until I was married."

That was how it was in their kingdom: babies were given 2 names, 1 which they were called as they grew up by everyone around them and 1 which they'd be referred to after they got married. Which is why it shocked Y/N that her mother was calling her that now.

"Which will actually happen very soon my dear."

Y/N turned to look at her father, her face asking for an explanation. His smile was meant to be reassuring, but instead it felt forced and almost as if he was feeling pity for her.

"We......have picked out the best match for you."

Y/N knew this day would come sooner or later. As the princess of the kingdom, she'd be married off to the best suitor to come forward and ask for her hand. She was not scared of this prospect ahead of her, in fact, she had often daydreamed of meeting her future husband and falling in love with him like she often read about in her stories. She was often imagining a young and handsome lad coming to ask for her, with strong arms and athletic build. She wanted someone like the hero Heracles, who was known for his superior strength and good looks.

"And he's already here! So straighten up Andromeda, chin up, make yourself look more alive for goodness sakes."

Her mother began her usual fussing again, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles on her daughter's dress and pulling out strands of her hair to compliment her features even more. She went as far as pinching Y/N's cheeks.

"Ow! What was that for?" Y/N cupped her cheeks, not wanting them to be abused by her mother's bony fingers and long nails.

"To give them a little pink tint." Her mother looked at her as if she was stupid.

"My dear Cassiopeia, I think the child has had enough. She looks beautiful all right?"

The queen pouted her bottom lip.

"But I'm still the most beautiful one right?"

There it was, her mother couldn't even resist having someone tell her how pretty she was or compliment her appearance. Her husband rolled his eyes.

"You're the most beautiful in all of Joppa." He replied, simply just to get her off his case and go back to what was really important here.

The royal family got in their respective places, awaiting the arrival of Y/N's future husband. She tugged on the fabric of her dress, nervous yet excited at meeting who her parents had deemed suitable for her.

The doors opened and Y/N held her breath as a royal announcer came in, hand over his chest as he proclaimed:

"Announcing his royal Majesty, Phineas, King of Cyprus."

Y/N's heart sank when she heard who was just announced.

'No no no....please mighty gods in the heavens..."

She wanted the earth to swallow her as she looked at the man in front of her, not a stranger, but an all too familiar and not welcomed face to her. Out of all the people in the land......

Why did her parents have to choose him? A king who was 20 years her senior, had already been married once and was not only particularly displeasing in figure, but more so in personality?

"My dear friend! So nice to see you again!"

The regal queen greeted the neighboring monarch warmly, delighted at the thought of having him there with them.

"My dear queen Cassiopeia. You haven't changed at all. Still the most beautiful creature that has ever walked on this earth." He complimented her as he kissed her hand.

Her husband just sat there, so used to the flattery bestowed upon his wife by the old fool. Y/N on the other hand wanted to run away from there, crawl into her bed and cry her eyes out. Her mother was having none of that though.

"Andromeda. Come here and say hello to your future husband."

She looked at her father, eyes begging him to intervene, but his eyes just looked at her sadly and at that moment she knew she had no choice. Her future had been decided and there was no going back. Taking a deep breath, she took slow and heavy steps until she stood in front of Phineas. Bowing her head, she greeted him with a very hushed voice, which the king mistakenly misinterpreted as timidness.

"My lovely bride do not be so shy. We shall soon be happily married and I promise to make you the happiest woman alive. And I know you shall make me a very happy man and bear me lots of heirs."

Y/N nearly gagged at the thought.

"Heirs?" Her vision was beginning to get blurry.

When the man in front of her took her hand in his own, she nearly yanked it back.

"Yes. Many children with the God's blessings." He chuckled, but she did not find any of it amusing.

She felt so repulsed and sick she didn't realize what was happening until she heard people calling out her name and her body hit the floor underneath her, vision going completely black as she fainted due to the shock.

༺═──────────────═༻

She awoke hours later, one of her handmaidens, Sophiya, was stirring a cup in her hand.

"Miss, you're awake."

Y/N sat up, her head still spinning somewhat.

"What on earth happened?" She rubbed her temples, trying to recollect her memories.

Sophiya held out the cup and saucer out to her.

"It seems you fainted."

Right. She remembered now. She was betrothed to an old geezer and couldn't handle it so she passed out in front of everybody. She sighed as she stirred the chamomile tea inside her cup, the smell of it already helping clear her head.

"Why him? Why out of all the people in the world, I have to be married to him?" She wondered out loud before sipping some of her tea carefully.

She wasn't afraid of speaking her mind with Sophiya around. Not only was she a loyal and discreet maid, she was the closest friend she had in the palace, the one often listening to her and offering advice at times.

"Well from a political perspective, it's a very desirable match. Your father's northern territories share a border with Phineas' kingdom. Uniting two states by marriage would be beneficial both politically and commercially." Sophiya stated.

Y/N set her cup on her dresser rather harshly.

"It's not fair though. I don't want someone old enough to be my father as a husband, let alone someone who treats women like they're just objects instead of people."

"No? Then what do you want Y/N?"

Sophiya had a mischievous grin on her face, knowing fully well what her friend's answer would be. Grabbing a pillow, Y/N chucked it at her, causing her to double over in laughter.

"Shut up! Don't start."

Y/N got up and went to her vanity and began arranging her hair which was now poking out from several places. She cringed a little and was about to reach for her comb but Sophiya beat her to it.

"It's been a while since I've done this." Sophiya hummed a little tune like she always did whenever she combed through Y/N's hair.

"I can do it myself you know." Y/N reminded her.

Sophiya snorted. "Yeah and that's why your hair always looks messy and unkempt."

Y/N widened her eyes.

"Does it?"

But her friend's inability to contain her laugh made her realize she was only messing around with her again. At least it took her mind off the current situation that displeased her.......

Until her mother came barging into her room.

"Ahhh Y/N. You're awake at last."

She gestured for Sophiya to move aside so she could take over. Y/N already dreaded having her mother comb her hair, she was always so rough and pulled her hair so tightly she'd end up with a pounding headache before the day was over. Her mother held a strand of her daughter's hair and grimaced slightly.

"Your hair is becoming rather dry." She pointed out.

"Really? I didn't notice." Y/N responded.

Her mother let out an exasperated sigh.

"Y/N don't you know you must take care of every part of your body in order to remain looking beautiful and young?"

Her mother took a glance at the mirror in front of them.

"Just look at me darling. How many women my age do you know to have such luscious, thick, long and healthy hair?"

She then turned her attention to the girl standing next to them.

"Don't you think so Sophiya?"

Knowing fully well how to put honey in the queen's ear, Sophiya admired her.

"Not a single strand of grey hair your Highness."

Her response made the queen extremely happy. Y/N and Sophiya both looked at each other and tried not to laugh right then and there.

"See honey? This is why I'm always advising you on proper beauty care."

She made Y/N turn and stare at her reflection once more.

"I'm so proud to have had such a beautiful daughter like you. And you'll become even more beautiful I just know it."

Y/N at this point just decided to tune out her mothers words, not wanting to listen once more to another vain speech.

"You're the prettiest girl in all of Joppa. No one compares to you."

'As if I've never heard that one before.' Y/N thought.

"If even dare say you're the most beautiful princess in the entire world."

Now Y/N began to feel uneasy, feeling her mother was escalating things too far.

With a proud and arrogant smirk, her mother then finally boasted:

"You're more beautiful than all the daughters of Poseidon. The Nereids can't even come close to owning half of your beauty."

Both Y/N and Sophiya began to panic at her words. If there was one thing the gods hated more than anything it would a mortal's pride. And the panic soon turned into terror when the earth shook, all of the glass dials on Y/N's dresser fell to the floor, all their contents spilling. Some of the painting either tilted or crashed onto ground. The all tried to run out the door, but they all toppled over, Y/N and Sophiya holding onto each other, praying for the earth to stop shaking while the queen was screaming hysterically while trying to crawl to the door.

Suddenly everything stopped and an eerie hush fell upon them. Sophiya inspected Y/N, inquiring about her well being.

"I'm fine....but what was that?" She wondered.

"Is it finally over?" Her mother asked, hands covered protectively over her head.

Loud rumbling outside made them shudder, the sunlight that was shining moments ago now was darkened as clouds covered the sky. Thunder got louder and rain started to heavily pour down, even though the rainy season had ceased 3 months ago. That could only mean one thing.

"Somebody has angered the gods."

༺═──────────────═༻

Y/N tried to keep the smile on her face as her future husband kept going on about his kingdom, its financial contribution in the trade market and, her absolute favorite, all the duties and responsibilities that the queen would have to take up. From knowing how to run dozens of servants, to organizing banquets and festivities, to being a role model for all the women in the empire.

"She must exhibit perfect conduct at all times, must display modesty, integrity, loyalty to her husband and kingdom..."

Y/N could only pretend to listen to his words. Every word uttered felt like someone was pushing a threading needle in her skin.

"Y/N? Are you listening to me?"

Phineas question brought her back to reality.

"Huh? Oh yes! Of course I was."

She hoped he wouldn't notice that she was nervous, but he ended up attributing to her being overwhelmed by the responsibilities she'd have.

"I can understand that for a young girl such as yourself, who has been frivolous for most of her life, being thrusted into such a position which requires great responsibility must be daunting and bewildering. But fear not my lovely bride, I promise you I shall never reproach you for any mistakes you make."

It took every fiber in her being to keep from rolling her eyes at that statement. If anything, she was everything but frivolous, she already knew so much from observing and studying under her father's guidance. For goodness sakes, she already mastered the art of war strategies and this man actually thought her incapable of ruling a country? She wanted to laugh at that.

"And you must not despair. I have a housekeeper already prepared back home who will instruct you in all the arrangements and etiquette of the palace. Wonderful lady who has served me for a great many years. Completely dedicated and exemplary in her work."

Y/N could already picture a strict and dogmatic old woman, whom she no doubt would end up hating if King Phineas admired her so. But that was the least of her worries at the moment. She spotted out of the corner of her eye two servants whispering something to her father, who looked agitated and full of concern. Y/N could guess that they were reporting another dreadful catastrophe that besieged their kingdom. Ever since that day with the earthquake and thunderstorm, more phenomenons started to happen throughout the land. A second earthquake buried and destroyed dozens of homes, the west province was affected by a flash flood that wiped out most of the crops, and a tremendous tidal wave swept away some of the coastal villages in the south province. Thousands of innocent people were affected greatly and it pained Y/N to see it happen, and she had an idea she knew why this was all happening. Not caring if she was rude, she excused herself and left King Phineas' side to approach her father.

"What news did they bring?" She made sure to keep her voice low so as to not alarm anyone.

Her father inhaled deeply.

"Lighting storm struck the east coast now. Hundreds of homes were burned."

Y/N of course expected bad news. Nothing good ever came from the messengers.

"I just don't understand Y/N. Why us? What have we done to offend the gods? We sacrifice to all of them, we are faithful and pious people, so why are they punishing us?"

She truly didn't have the answer. All she could do was rest her head on her father's shoulder and embrace him.

"I don't know. We can only hope things don't get worse."

At that moment, one of the young men who went out daily to the docks to haul in fish for the palace came rushing in, drenched in water, barefoot and face filled with horror.

"A sea monster! A sea monster has been sent to us!"

All of the people in the room fixed their eyes on him, some gasping or covering their mouths, while others thought he was crazy. Y/N and her father approached the lad.

"What do you mean?" Her father demanded.

The boy trembled in fear as he began recounting his experience:

"My lord! We were out at sea, reeling in our catch for the day when we heard a strange bellowing noise from underneath the boat. It was then silent for a while when suddenly, a large sea creature emerged and split our boat in half. It was frightening! It had razor sharp teeth, a serpent's tongue, bloodshot eyes and it was simply enormous! I watched as it devoured some of my fellow comrades-"

The lad fell to his knees, sobbing uncontrollably as images of the traumatic scene flashed once more across his mind. The king bent down and placed a gentle hand on the boy's back, his head in deep thought as if trying to recollect any wrong doings anyone might have done. He then signaled for someone to take the boy away and give him fresh clothes and food to eat.

Y/N closed her eyes and sighed. It was getting worse and worse every day, and it seemed it wouldn't be stopped. She flinched when she saw her father draw out his sword and knocked down one of the vases that adorned the hall.

"Speak oh mighty gods! What have we done to anger you? Why are you punishing us!?"

No one spoke up, fear was in all of their eyes and no one could blame them.

"I......I'm the guilty one."

All heads turned to the source of the voice and stared in shock as the queen herself stepped up, her visage looking thinner than normal and with dark circles under her eyes, signaling lack of sleep.

"I have offended Poseidon by boasting that Andromeda was more beautiful than his sea nymphs...."

Everyone let out gasps and screeches of horror at her confession. Her father looked absolutely furious and was trying hard to contain himself from losing his temper. Accepting all responsibility, the queen continued:

"If I must pay the price with my own life then so be it."

Her father shook his head.

"The price is for Poseidon to decide. Send in the Oracle. We must find out how to appease the god of the sea."

༺═──────────────═༻

"Why must he be so angry at us over one person's mistake?"

Y/N and her father stared blankly at the horizon. It seemed both of them had been spending more and more time in the royal orchard ever since more and more disastrous news reached their ears. Y/N sat on a stone bench while her father leaned back on one of the several olive trees that surrounded the place. So far he had kept quiet and just listened to her pour her heart out.

"I always asked myself that when I was a little boy and I listened to the stories my father told me. Why the gods always punished mortals who claimed to be better than them."

Y/N observed her father who stood there with a pensive gaze.

"I think......I understand...... the gods want us to respect the natural order every creature has in this universe."

Pulling out a leave from one of the branches, he continued:

"Insects have their place in this world. Animals have theirs. We mortals have our place above these creatures and that's why we dominate them....

And the gods have their place, above us mortals. We are so far below them that none of us should aspire to be greater than the place that was designated for us. Or it could mean our downfall."

Releasing the leave, he let it slowly fall down, sinking into the water of the small pond in front of them. Y/N stared at the leaf, understanding the point her father was trying to get across, but still it bothered her.

"But still. In all of the stories, the guilty one was punished, not innocent people. So why are they paying the price now?"

Her father stiffened at her question, unsure of how to answer.

"The ways of the gods are difficult for us to understand."

Y/N got up from her seat and staged at the fields in front of her. She frowned, unable to accept that answer.

"It's not their fault...."

Her father sighed as he rubbed his temples.

"Y/N please.......I can't comprehend this as much as you can. We'll just have to wait and see what the Oracle says. Hopefully there's still a way to make things right."

They both went back inside the palace, the Oracle had to be done communicating with the other world and must have an answer by then. The ministers were already gathered at the conference hall, awaiting instructions. Y/N and her father took their place in the middle of the crowd, waiting for the elder man to come in. Everyone hushed as soon as he came in. He walked even slower than usual, holding his walking staff with 2 hands, his eyebrows were furrowed as if he was in deep thought and troubled by what he had to reveal. No one dared ask him what was going to happen, afraid of what he'd say.

"Tell us. What does mighty Poseidon ask from us?" Her father inquired.

The old man lifted his head to the sky and closed his eyes before saying:

"This is what the god of the sea has spoken: 'You have summoned my wrath by offending me and my sea nymphs with your pride and vanity. I have a mind to exterminate the entire land to pay for your sins.......

But as an act of mercy, I will stop all the disasters if you offer me a sacrifice. In 2 days time, you must chain the selected person to a rock at the sea's edge for my sea monster, Cetus, to devour and atone for your foolishness. If you don't follow my instructions, I will continue to lay rampage throughout your kingdom until you have all perished."

The nobles all began to murmur amongst themselves, some already agreeing to the demands for the sake of the people.

"We are all ready to do as our lord, Poseidon, asks of us. Tell us Mylos, who are we to offer to him?"

Y/N's mother was already stepping up, all of them expecting her of course to be the one to die, but the old Oracle shook his head as he revealed a shocking fact.

"Poseidon has asked for your daughter, Y/N."

At the mention of her name, Y/N paled and nearly fell over had her father not being next to her to prevent her from falling. Many were shocked and horrified at the choice, some of the ladies already wailing at the thought of losing their beloved princess. Y/N felt Sophiya run up to her and hold her tightly, tears already spilling out her eyes. But the one who was most distressed by it was none other than her mother.

"No! He can't take Y/N! He can't take my only daughter! I won't let him! Please! Let me die in her place instead!"

The queen got on her knees, begging for her daughter's life to be saved as all the people in the room were now divided by how to proceed with this.

"Cepheus you cannot allow this! She's your child!" She was now clutching her husband's robe, desperately trying to persuade him not to allow this insanity to happen.

"Poseidon has spoken! His words must be fulfilled! If he wants the princess, we must give her to him!" One of the nobles protested.

Her father became enraged.

"Has he no pity?! She's my only child! I can't let him have her!"

"You are a king before a father and a king's duty is to his people. Please! We don't want anymore bloodshed to happen!" Someone else counteracted.

Soon it was an intense debate between all of the gentlemen in the hall. All of them screamed one after the other, not bothering to listen. All throughout it, her father refused to budge.

"Phineas, she's betrothed to you. What have you to say?"

All eyes fell on the other monarch, who had kept quiet until now. Meeting his eyes, Y/N for once looked at him with tenderness, silently pleading him to vouch for her. Instead, and unsurprisingly, he looked down.

"If that's what the God of the sea has declared, it must be done."

Her father shook his head, resisting the urge to draw his sword and kill him right then and there.

"And this from the very man who said he'd die for her hand in marriage? Pitiful."

"No matter that! Poseidon must be obeyed!"

Y/N drowned out the chaos that was happening. She truly was frightened by the situation, appalled that the God would choose her to be the sacrifice. But she had no tears to cry, she simply stood there, blank faced as she pondered over all the events that had happened in the past week, all the houses destroyed, all the innocent lives taken, it wasn't fair.........

And she couldn't allow it to continue.

"I will do it."

But no one heard her because they were too busy fighting. So she stepped in the center and firmly declared:

"I will do it! I will sacrifice myself if that's what Poseidon wants!"

༺═──────────────═༻

The people all looked in awe and admiration as the princess walked up the stone pavement through the streets. Dressed in pure white robes, hair curled into ringlets, she looked like an actual angel sent to save them all. But behind that gaze that showed dignity and bravery, there was fear in each of her bones, her hands shaking every now and then at the thought of what was to come. Her father and mother both stayed behind, not allowed to accompany her any further out of fear that they'd try and stop the priests from chaining her to her destiny. Y/N stared at some of the wildflowers that were shattered along the path, somehow they seemed to calm her down. She kept repeating the same words over and over again in her head:

"I'm a princess. I must die with dignity and grace."

But her courage soon failed her when she reached the steps leading down to the edge of the sea. Her body froze, unwilling to take another step. She was about to ran back the way she came, but the priests grabbed her wrists and began trying to get her down the steps, but Y/N began to struggle. She looked back at her parents, their faces blurry from the tears brimming at her eyes.

"Father! Mother! Save me!"

Her mother hid her face in her hands, unable to watch anymore, while her father was being held back by some of his guards, strictly ordered to keep him from interfering. At this point, Y/N heard a familiar voice scream from among the crowds. Turning she saw none other than Sophiya try to run to her, but she was stopped by a couple of guards.

"You can't do this to her! She's innocent! Y/N you don't have to do this! Let me go!"

It took both of the guards to subdue her and lift her up to take her away and keep her from freeing Y/N, but Sophiya kept fighting and shouting protests to be released and to help her friend. When she saw Phineas, she did not hide her disgust and shame.

"Aren't you supposed to protect her?! Be her champion! Slay the monster for her! Do you not care enough for her?!"

But her words fell upon deaf ears, no one would dare step up for Y/N. The priests dragged her down the narrow staircase. Once they reached the bottom, they held her hands behind her back and pressed her firmly against the cold stone pillar. They tied the rope around several times, making sure it was fastened tightly before saying a small and quick prayer for her and to ask forgiveness to the god. Y/N watched them climb back up the stairs and slowly disappear, along with the rest of the people who went to see her off. No one wanted to watch as Poseidon carried out his punishment and have his sea monster eat a poor, helpless young girl.

Hours passed, the sun was now covered by clouds, adding an even more eerie atmosphere to the place. The tide was rising, the water that before was only at Y/N's feet. Now was well above her knees, the cold water freezing her muscles. Y/N wondered if perhaps the gods would have mercy on her and let her drown instead of having Cetus tear into her flesh and eat her while she was still alive. The more she thought about it, the more she began panicking.

"I don't want to die! Please! Can anybody help me?! Somebody, anybody! Help!!"

Her throat was now sore from screaming on top of her lungs, her face red from all the tears pouring out, her arms aching from being bound behind her, her palms no doubt bleeding and scratched from scraping against the stone behind them. Y/N lowered her head, resigning to her fate and only praying that it would be quick and painless.

Far above her head, soaring through the clouds, at that moment, a shining white horse with wings flew across the sky. Sitting on top of the majestic creature, a handsome and strong young man calmly guided his companion through the vast ocean. The horse suddenly stopped in midair, sensing something.

"Whoah whoah whoah, steady there Pegasus. What's wrong?"

He ran his hand across the horse's mane, scratching the back of his ear in an effort to calm him. He looked towards where the horse was staring at and was confused when he saw a girl chained to a stone. Feeling curious, he whispered in Pegasus ear.

"Do you feel like going on another adventure?"

The winged horse let out a high pitched neigh before changing direction and swooping down to land on top of the stairs of the ledge. Dismounting and signaling for him to stay put, the mysterious man walked down the steps, being careful not to slip due to the water that had splashed onto the pavement. He tilted his head, trying to get a better view of the girl in front of him, trying to see if she was alive or not since she had her head down and didn't seem to be moving. She certainly hadn't drowned yet, even though the water was already below her chest, and it seemed it wouldn't stop yet.

He waved a hand in front of her.

"Hello?"

He heard a low moan come from her lips before she slowly lifted her head up, affirming she was still alive. He was taken aback by how pretty she was, even with her hair semi drenched in the salty seawater. It seemed to add a more captivating look to her. Y/N on the other hand, couldn't understand if she was seeing things or was already dead.

"Is this where I get on the boat that'll take me to the Underworld?"

Her question made the man raise an eyebrow.

"No....... you're not dead and this is Joppa I believe?"

"Oh great. Then that means I'm not dead.....yet." Y/N let out an exasperated sigh.

"Why can't you just get it over with? Stop making me wait, send your sea monster to gobble me up already."

She kept babbling on and on, she completely forgot about the stranger in front of her who was listening intently.

"What on earth are you taking about? Who chained you here anyway?"

Y/N looked in the direction of the stairs.

"The priests. I'm supposed to be sacrificed to Poseidon's sea monster."

The man shook his head.

"Why?"

"Because my mother boasted that I was more beautiful than the Nereids and therefore I have to appease the God of the sea with my death." She explained, not caring how ridiculous she sounded right now.

The man bent down, tugging at the ropes binding her to her fate.

"You still shouldn't be here......then again..."

He looked up at her and smiled softly.

"Perhaps we were fated to meet."

For the first time since all of it happened, Y/N genuinely smiled.

"I'm Jongho by a way." He finally introduced himself.

"I'm Y/N." She replied.

Her smile soon faded when she felt the water rise up even more, startling her and making her attempt to break free once again. Sensing how little time they had before her head was submerged completely underwater, Jongho drew out his sword and stepped down further into the water. He stood in front of Y/N.

"Don't worry. I'll get you out of here before-"

A loud bellowing cry interrupted him. The earth once again began to shake and as they both turned their heads to the right, they watched as a monstrous reptile swam straight toward them, its head coming out from the water.

"Stay here! Don't move!" He ordered her as he ran back up the stairs to divert the monster's attention from Y/N and instead to himself, completely ignoring the fact even if she wanted to, Y/N couldn't move at all.

Jongho stood at the top of the cliff. Raising his sword above his head, he waved it around to get the serpent to look at him, which it did. The beast made it's way towards him, bearing its sharp teeth at him. It lunged at him, but Jongho quickly ducked and shifted to the other side. He tried to pierce his sword into the monster's head but his sword only clashed against an armor of scales surrounding it.

"Oh great." Jongho breathed out when it lunged for him again, this time Jongho barely escaped its clutches.

He whistled for Pegasus to come over, which it promptly did. The horse trotted over to his master, who quickly hopped up and got on top of him before directing him to fly above the monster's neck. If Y/N wasn't so concerned about the water's level rising, she would have been more astonished at seeing an actual winged horse in front of her. Jongho scanned the munsters body, if there's anything he knew in his lifetime of slaying beasts it was that they all had a weak spot, that if found, it would be easy to defeat them.

The monster shifted its body around, causing the waters to splashed violently against Y/N's face. She coughed out the water that had gotten in her mouth and wheezed as she tried to regain her breath. Realizing he was running out of time, Jongho knew he had no other alternative and had to make use of his special weapon. Reaching into the copper colored bag on Pegasus' saddle, he looked over at Y/N and called out:

"Close your eyes! Don't open them under no circumstance!"

Y/N immediately shut her eyes, afraid of seeing what was going to happen. Jongho then took out a frightening and horrifying severed head that had now deceased snakes on its scalp. Making sure the monster was looking right at him, he held the head up so it could see the still glowing green eyes. In that moment, the sea serpent began shrieking out in pain as its body began to crystallize and turn into hard stone. Starting at its tail and going up to his neck, Jongho watched as the monster then fully transformed into a monument of stone, no longer moving and completely void of any life now. He tucked the head back in the pouch before looking back down at Y/N.

"Oh almighty Zeus."

He rushed down there with Pegasus when he saw that her head was now submerged underwater. He didn't even bother waiting for Pegasus to land, he jumped right in the water and swam over to her. Taking out a dagger from his pocket, he cut through several of the rope ties and quickly tugged them off of her. Once he felt them loosen up enough, he took her unconsciously body in his arms and swam back up. He gasped once he reached the surface, grabbing onto Pegasus' bridle. Pegasus then used his strength to pull them back up enough for Jongho to lift Y/N into his arms and climb back up the stairs to high land, safe away from the tide.

"Come on Y/N, don't give up on me."

He tilted her chin up before placing his hands against her chest. He pushed down hard, trying to get the water she swallowed out of her lungs.

"Please gods on Olympus. Help"

He pressed down even harder, but still nothing. Having left no choice, he bent down and parted her lips before blowing air into her mouth. He pulled back and inhaled before repeating the same process. Stepping back, he held onto Y/N's back when she began coughing violently, helping her sit up slighty so she could regain her composure.

"Are you all right?" He scanned to make sure she was ok.

Y/N took deep breaths before answering in a raspy voice.

"I think so..."

She looked up and blushed when she noticed their close proximity. Now having him mere inches from her face, Y/N could clearly see how handsome Jongho was, with dazzling brown eyes that seemed to hypnotize her.

"Thank you....for saving my life..." She whispered.

Jongho carefully swept his hand over her face, brushing off some of her wet hair out of it before leaning in closer to her.

"Oh don't thank me. Like I said, maybe we were fated to meet."

Y/N closed her eyes when she felt his face come closer to hers, his lips hovering above hers, she waited for him to kiss her, but unfortunately they were interrupted by a sharp voice:

"Y/N! You're alive!"

Jongho helped Y/N get up on her feet as her parents, Sophiya, Phineas and several others ran over to see what was happening. Sophiya wrapped her arms around Y/N, her voice hoarse from all the screaming she had done before.

"Thank the gods you're alive!"

Her parents also surrounds her, thankful she wasn't dead. Jongho just stood by the sides, smiling fondly at the touching scene. Not forgetting about him, Y/N went over to him and took his hand before looking over at her parents.

"Mom, dad. This is Jongho. He's the one who saved me."

Jongho smiled sheepishly as he waved his hand dismissively.

"Please, I had a little help."

The crowd looked over at the beast's head poking out from the cliff, immobile and never to move again.

"How on earth could a mere mortal turn a fearsome creature into stone?" Her father asked.

"Oh very easy. You see..."

Jongho whistled for Pegasus, who trotted up next to him. Several people began murmuring amongst themselves, wondering who really was this man who flew in such a majestic creature and could perform such miracles. Jongho pointed to the bag on the saddle.

"I'm afraid I can't show you all directly since even after I slayed the Gorgon, her face can still turn to stone anyone who looks at it."

A collective gasp was emitted from all those present, even Y/N was shocked when she realized who it really was that was standing in front of her.

"You're....you're..." She pointed a trembling finger to Jongho who merely chuckled.

"I see you heard the story about how I killed Medusa, although you probably heard the name given to me by the gods....

I am indeed Perseus."

Y/N covered her mouth as did most of the people present.

"The champion son of Zeus, standing right before our eyes."

At her father's words, everyone bowed down in respect to Jongho. Y/N's father dropped to his knees in front of him and held his hand.

"You have done me a great service by saving my beloved and only daughter. I shall forever be in your debt. Please, if there is anything I can offer you, say it and it shall be yours."

Jongho shot a glance back at Y/N, who kept looking at him in admiration. He winked at her before requesting:

"My dear king, if it pleases you..... I ask only for your daughter hand in marriage."

Y/N swore her heart jumped out of her body when he said those words. She looked to her father, who was ready to say yes until Phineas stepped forward to declare:

"Wait! Andromeda is already betrothed to me! You can't have her!"

But that didn't deter Jongho. He simply turned to look at the man in front of him. Crossing his arms, he sneered.

"If she betrothed to you, where were you when she was in danger? Why didn't you step up to die with her or for her instead of hiding away like a coward?"

Phineus stood there quiet, unable to answer that question, which didn't surprise Jongho.

"Exactly. So if it's all right with you, I ask for her father's blessing to allow me to marry her."

Slinging an arm protectively around her waist, Jongho pulled Y/N against him, refusing to budge even for 1 moment. Phineus reached over and drew his sword.

"Over my dead body."

Jongho raised an eyebrow.

"I'm a son of Zeus, I've slayed Medusa and killed Poseidon's beast, not to mention I'm more than half your age and have much vigor in me. Do you really dare to challenge me? Cause if that's the case."

Jongho covered Y/N's eyes and judging from all the panicked shuffling going on, she guessed he was reaching for Medusa's severed head to use against his rival.

Having to admit defeat, Phineas dropped his sword.

"Keep her. Keep Y/N."

Y/N bounced giddily at the thought of getting to marry Jongho, someone who embodied everything she always wanted in a husband: young, beautiful, strong and brave. And more than that, he was highly favored by the gods themselves.

"You could have been a queen Y/N. You'll regret your decision." Phineus declared before storming out of there.

Taking one look at Jongho, Y/N absolutely knew she wouldn't regret it.

༺═──────────────═༻p>

The couple stood in front of each other, lost in each other's eyes as their hands were joined together. Her parents watched in earnest as the priest spoke out the next words:

"Do you, Jongho, son of almighty Zeus and of Danaë, daughter of Acrisius, king of Argos, take Y/N, Princess of Joppa, daughter of Cepheus and Cassiopeia, king and queen of Aethiopia, as your lawfully wedded wife until death do you part?"

Without any hesitation, Jongho swore:

"I do."

The priest now turned to Y/N and repeated the same question to her, to which she responded:

"I do."

Her mother and Sophiya were already crying for joy at seeing Y/N so happy, while her father tried hard to contain his emotions. The priest proceeded to utter a small prayer before announcing:

"From this day forward, you shall both be known as Perseus and Andromeda. You have both sworn that from this day forward, you will spend the rest of your lives together, in front of all of those in attendance and before the very gods. May the Olympians bless this holy marriage."

Before the priest could even gesture for the torchbearers to light the sacrifice, a lighting bolt suddenly fired from the sky and set it ablaze, causing everyone to erupt in cheers and applause.

"Seems even Zeus approves of the marriage." Y/N's father whispered to his wife.

"And why should he not? They're perfect for each other. I can't be happier for our daughter. Although I'm going to miss her terribly." Her mother wiped her eyes with the handkerchief Sophiya handed to her.

The happy couple walked down the aisle, waving goodbye to their guests as they made their way out of the castle and down to one of the southern bays, where Pegasus was already waiting for them by the dock.

"I thought we were going back to your hometown Tiryns." Y/N pointed out.

"We are." Jongho calmly said.

"Well where's the boat?"

Jongho bursted out laughing at that.

"Sweetheart, Sophiya is the only one taking a boat to meet us there later. We.......are flying on dear Pegasus here."

Before she could protest, Jongho swept her off her feet and helped her mount the horse before saddling up behind her.

"Come on love, don't be scared. I promise nothing will happen to you."

Still sensing her apprehension, Jongho tilted her head to look at him.

"Hey look at me. I saved you from Poseidon's beast. Can't you trust me to safely take you to my home to meet my mother?"

Y/N smiled softly before nodding.

"I trust you entirely......"

She blushed before confessing:

"I love you."

Jongho leaned in and captured her lips in a gentle and loving kiss.

"I love you too my precious star."

Jongho then patted Pegasus ' side.

"Come on buddy. Take us home."

༺═──────────────═༻

[ladykissingfish]

Under the Mistletoe with the Akatsuki // Part Eight // Kakuzu

What is with this group and wasting their free time doing such inane and pointless things? The old guy can think of at least 50 other activities (the majority of which involve making money) that everyone could be doing, rather than lining up to kiss each under a little green plant. When it’s his turn in the spotlight, he tries as hard as he can to back out of his “obligation” ... but Pein (and Kakuzu’s own persistent partner, Hidan) insist that Kakuzu participate. Kakuzu sighs and nods; he’s smart enough to know when he’s been defeated. However, Pein should know that Kakuzu will be adding a little extra money to his paycheck that week, for “hazard pay”.

Pein

Nagato was more interested in Kakuzu joining his group than any of the others. Immortality, money-sense, expertise and wisdom ... this is the man who survived the wars of the past. This is the man who survived the mighty Hashirama, God of all shinobi. Still, Nagato is no fool; he realizes that Kakuzu’s number one priority in life isn’t the Akatsuki, but money. Kakuzu would probably (and had likely thought about) betray them all in exchange for a tidy sum. So Nagato (as Pein) works to keep Kakuzu content enough to remain loyal, including making him the group’s treasurer and giving him complete control over everyone’s finances. And Kakuzu remains highly useful; strategizing, completing missions twice as fast (and ten times as efficient) as his younger teammates. Pein approaches Kakuzu and gives him a light kiss on the forehead, before returning to his room. He reminds himself to speak to Kakuzu later; he has some ideas about weapons he’d like to procure for the group, and needs to see if it would be financially feasible to do so.

Konan

Kakuzu genuinely likes Konan, and appreciates her company. Many men of Kakuzu’s generation were raised on the belief system that women were solely meant to be wives, child-bearers, and home-makers; to call a female a ninja was deemed unthinkable. But Kakuzu was a rarity in that he never saw this as being the case; man or woman, one’s inner strength was all that mattered in regards to being a shinobi. He’s spoken with Konan at length about her childhood, and the trauma she endured, and he knows that this little blue-haired lady is a sight tougher than a LOT of people (and Kakuzu’s met quite a few in his long life). Konan walks up to him and he smiles; it’s rare for Kakuzu to smile, but Konan brings it out of him. “Good evening, Kakuzu-san. I think it’s my turn.” He nods, and slips off his mask so that his lips are exposed. He leans down and very, very gently kisses her cheek. Her blushing skin is soft and her smile is beautiful as she thanks him and steps away, to let the next person go.

Kisame

Nobody knows this about Kakuzu (and he fears he would be mocked if they did), but the old guy puts a lot of emphasis on the idea of exercise. Five hearts is a lot of responsibility, and staying healthy is how Kakuzu intends to keep living forever. So every night, when the others are asleep and after he’s done with his reading, he’ll spend some time in his room exercising. One night Kisame passed by his open door and saw him using a pair of heavy books as make-shift weights. The next evening Kisame came to Kakuzu’s room with a set of real barbells , which he casually gave to Kakuzu with the admonition not to overdo it. Kakuzu greatly appreciated the gesture (and the unspoken support), and the two have been good friends ever since. But ... a kiss between them would just be too strange, so Kisame comes up with a better option: an arm-wrestling match, Kisame grabs the kitchen table and two chairs and sets them up under the mistletoe. Of course the rest of the Akatsuki gathers to watch, hooting and hollering and placing bets on who will win. Kisame and Kakuzu are both fairly evenly matched, so that challenge goes on for a while. Finally, with a final grunt of exertion, Kakuzu is able to slam Kisame’s hand into the table. Everyone claps, and Kisame laughs and tells Kakuzu that he’s “one tough son of a bitch”; high compliment coming from a man who was half-shark.

Itachi

Out of all the members of the Akatsuki, Itachi was by far the least problematic of the younger ones. Quiet, thoughtful, quick and efficient in completing missions. And polite; always forthcoming with “please” and “thank you”, and never failing to use honorifics with the others, even though some of them (ie Deidara and Hidan) don’t show him that same respect back. One time Kakuzu had caught a cold that stubbornly hung on for several days. Itachi came to his room every day with a cup of congestion-easing tea, something that Kakuzu didn’t ask for, but greatly appreciated nonetheless. Itachi comes up to him and nods. “Kakuzu-san.” “Itachi-san.” Itachi leans up and gives him a light kiss to the cheek, and Kakuzu is struck by a particular urge — to hug this kid. Something about him, perhaps everything about him, seems like a cry for parental love and affection. Kakuzu resists this odd impulse, but Itachi seems to sense that it’s something he wanted, because he leans over again and very briefly puts his arms around the older man. “Thank you,” he murmurs, before walking away. Kakuzu watches him go, slightly shaking his head.

Tobi

Tobi gives Kakuzu an uneasy feeling deep within his heart(s). Running around, speaking loudly, eating nothing but candy and sweets, acting like a complete fool — it’s an act. Kakuzu has never been more convinced of anything in his life. The only question is, why is Tobi putting on this act? To deceive them all into a false sense of security, before striking? Kakuzu has hunted bounties a good deal of his life, and a lot of the more difficult ones to catch have acted EXACTLY the way Tobi does, in order to throw off potential bounty hunters. Kakuzu learned to see through them, the same way he sees through Tobi. But to tip one’s hand and give away what you know is unthinkable in the chase and capture game, so Kakuzu never lets on what he actually believes. “Oh boy Kakuzu-san; does Tobi get a kissy now?!” Kakuzu nods, and Tobi slides his mask halfway off (Kakuzu notes the lines on the side of his face; accident, most likely. Possibly a disfiguring one) and the strange glint of his eye. Before Tobi can act, Kakuzu puts a hand on his face and kisses his forehead. “There. Now go.” Tobi slides the mask back on and hurries away with his usual chatter and giggling, and Kakuzu reminds himself to loom through the bingo book later for bounties with visible scarring on the left side of the face.

Zetsu

Five hearts means more blood needed to sustain said hearts. More blood means a stronger scent. A stronger scent means ... Kakuzu smells delicious to someone like Zetsu. Zetsu approaches him and looks around quickly; the two are alone. His brain runs through every possible scenario in which he could successfully kill and eat Kakuzu. He’s victorious in a few ... but most end with him mutilated by the man’s tentacles, and having to face the wrath of Pein on top of everything else. So he simply sighs, flicks out his tongue to taste the saltiness of Kakuzu’s cheek, and walks away again. Just that one taste was almost enough to make zetsu throw restraint to the wind and eat his fill, so he leaves before he can do anything he’ll regret. Kakuzu wipes off his cheek in mild disgust ... in a group full of freaks, Zetsu certainly seemed to take the cake.

Deidara

Kakuzu still remembers the day they brought this kid into the group. And that’s exactly what he was; a kid. Barely 15 years old, with a powerful “gift”, and full of anger at a village he felt betrayed him in not trying to understand his unique sense of ‘art’. Fast forward several years later and Deidara had changed, and most of that change was the better. Kakuzu could only surmise that the kid matured due to the constant council and guidance of his older and wiser partner Sasori; Kakuzu feels mildly jealous that Sasori was able to reign some measure of improvement over HIS young partner, but Kakuzu couldn’t do a thing with Hidan. Still, though, even Sasori hadn’t been able to completely tame the kid, as evidenced by Deidara managing to get BOTH arms blown off in a tussle with some Konoha nin. Kakuzu had been tasked with sewing his new arms back on, but to the kids credit, despite his painful the procedure had been, he didn’t utter a sound. Had even thanked Kakuzu, twice, afterwards. Deidara walks up to him and looks almost shy; 19 years old now and still with the face of a child. Kakuzu leans down and kisses the kid’s forehead, again noting his soft and smooth — and LONG — his hair was. It sways as Deidara walks away, and Kakuzu wonders how much he could get for those luscious locks, from the right buyer.

Sasori

Respect. Out of all the words that Kakuzu could use to describe how he felt about Sasori, Respect was at the top of the list. And the funny thing was, Kakuzu hadn’t even met the REAL Sasori until almost a year of being in the Akatsuki. The two had been sent on a mission, and at night, near the campfire, a soft metal sound made Kakuzu turn his head. It was a small, slender redhead, emerging from the being that Kakuzu had THOUGHT was a real person. The two had looked at each other for a while, and then started a game of cards as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. As time went on, the two became closer. They both shared an interest in/knowledge of medical jutsu and procedures, and would often come to one another with questions or with articles on different medicines. Kakuzu nods at him as he walks up, and Sasori does the same. He thinks about it, bends down and kisses Sasori’s left cheek, and Sasori smiles at him, bidding him a quiet Good Evening before going back to his room.

Hidan

“Hey old fuck; you’ve been dying to get your hands on my sexy body all day, haven’t ya, pervert?” Kakuzu would roll his eyes at Hidan’s comment, but at this point, he’s ridiculously used to the things his partner says and does. As he looks at Hidan’s face, he wonders, and not for the first time, whether this is a punishment of sorts. Gaining five hearts and creating a kind of immortality only came for Kakuzu at the end of a long and bloody road, one paved with the unwilling sacrifices of other people. Was it Fate, that the Gods had put THIS man, this loud, overbearing, foul-mouthed heathen, into his path? And as the one person who just might be immortal, too? Hidan often joked about “When all these other assholes bite the big one, me and you might as well get married, bastard.” But what in the world was he saying? Surely he was joking; why would someone as young and attractive as Hidan want to be with Kakuzu? Kakuzu who was heaven knows how many times Hidan’s age, and — “So we gonna slobber each other or what?” “You’ve got a big mouth, brat. Learn to shut up once in a while.” “MAKE me shut up, fuck-face.” So Kakuzu grabs Hidan around the waist, tilts him back, and sinks into his lips. Kakuzu’s mouth is rough and scarred but Hidan’s is smooth and soft, and the contrast creates a dizzying effect for both men. Hidan grasps Kakuzu’s shoulders tighter, leaving slight nail-prints in Kakuzu’s flesh. Their lips are touching but in this moment it feels like everything is touching, even their very souls (if either of them still had one, that is). When Kakuzu finally breaks the kiss and pulls Hidan back up, the white-haired immortal seems fairly disorientated ... but that doesn’t stop his mouth. “You’re an even bigger pervert than I thought, old fuck. Who the hell said you could stick your tongue in my mouth?? And why —” Kakuzu suddenly reaches out and grabs Hidan’s face with both hands, this time pulling him forward into a very soft, closed-mouth kiss. “Better?” Instead of a smartass answer, Hidan simply nods; and now he’s smiling as he walks away. If he were to turn around at any point, he’d surely gasp; because Kakuzu’s smile was even bigger than Hidan’s own. “Stupid kid,” Kakuzu mutters to himself, still smiling as he makes his way back to his room.

[blackstonesandtrapnest]

I Don’t Wanna Miss A Thing

In celebration of NANA Week this year, I've decided to post a sequel to the songfic I wrote last year for Shin and my OC Gwendolyn this time using the iconic song I Don’t Wanna Miss A Thing by Aerosmith! I hope you enjoy it and I deeply apologize for not posting much lately!

I could stay awake Just to hear you breathing Watch you smile while you are sleeping While you're far away and dreaming

Shin smiled as he looked out the window of the bedroom he shared with Gwendolyn. He had moved in with her six months ago and so far, he was loving it. She was an absolute angel and she gave him peace and stability that he never had before!

The young man turned to face the sleeping Gwen and smiled as he saw the smile on her own beautiful face. Was she dreaming and if so, was it about him? If that were the case, Shin could only hope that they were happy dreams.

I could spend my life in this sweet surrender I could stay lost in this moment forever Every moment spent with you is a moment I treasure

"Shin! What in the world are you doing?!"

Gwen's voice rose in pitch as she glared at Shin who had just sprayed her with a water gun while she was on the beach sunbathing.

"What does it look like?"

"It looks like you're asking for a fight. Or should I say.....a gunfight?!"

Before Shin could even blink, Gwen pulled out a water gun of her own and sprayed Shin relentlessly while he tried to get away but to no avail.

Going to the beach was just one of many moments that Gwen treasured with Shin and if she had it her way, she could stay lost in this sweet surrender forever.

Don't want to close my eyes I don't wanna fall asleep Cause I'd miss you babe And I don't wanna miss a thing Cause even when I dream of you The sweetest dream will never do I'd still miss you, babe And I don't want to miss a thing

Gwen yawned as she sat on her couch, looking at her television and trying to find something good to watch. Shin was supposed to come back home from the tour with Blast but he hadn't called or texted her yet which wasn't like him at all. She was starting to get worried.

The dancer had been up for hours now, waiting for Shin to come home. Any normal person would've been asleep by now but Gwen wasn't normal when it came to Shin. She wanted to be the first thing he saw when he walked through the door and she didn't wanna miss his arrival back home!

Hearing the front door open, Gwen ran with alarming speed and pounced on Shin, wrapping her legs around his waist and showering him with kisses.

"Well hello to you too! I should go on tour more often if I'm gonna get a welcome like this!"

"Oh shut up and why didn't you call or text me like you usually do?! I was worried sick and I've been up for hours!"

Shin immediately got a look of worry on his face upon hearing about Gwen's lack of sleep.

"Why haven't you slept yet? Were you waiting for me? Usually you're asleep by the time I get back."

Gwen felt her face heat up as she thought about what to say to her lover without coming across as cheesy or clingy.

"I just really missed you that's all. It was pretty empty and quiet without you around. Not even my dreams were able to cure my loneliness."

Shin's only response was to kiss Gwen and pick her up bridal style, carrying her into the bedroom.

Lying close to you, feeling your heart beating And I'm wondering what you're dreaming Wondering if it's me you're seeing Then I kiss your eyes And thank God we're together And I just want to stay with you In this moment forever Forever and ever

Shin laid his head on his sleeping girlfriend's chest and his eyes widened slightly when he felt her heart beating. They widened even more when he realized that Gwen's heartbeat matched his and he kissed her eyes while fighting back tears in his own eyes.

Did their dreams match as well?

Did Gwen dream about Shin and the connection they had? The passion they shared? The love they found?

Shin was never a religious or even a spiritual person but if there was a God out there, he would thank him for bringing Gwen into his life and keeping them together.

As long as Shin had Gwen in his life, everything would be alright. She was all he needed and all he wanted to do was stay with her forever and ever.

Shin leaned over and took something out of the nightstand drawer that he had bought for Gwen while on tour. It was a ring. Shin had been thinking about proposing to Gwen for some time now and he had made up his mind while he was away.

Shin didn't want to miss a single thing with Gwen and he wanted to live every moment with her from then on as husband and wife.

Slipping the ring on Gwen's finger, Shin laid back down beside her and wrapped his arm around her beautiful body, pulling her close to him. Gwen snuggled up next to him which made Shin's heart soar. She was so adorable! All the more fitting to be his wife!

"I love you Gwen."

Don't wanna close my eyes I don't wanna fall asleep Cause I'd miss you, babe And I don't want to miss a thing

[knight-queen]

Lunatic Parade Laito Sakamaki– (Chapter 4)

Place: ??? (BG black)

Yui: Nnh….

(Somehow my body feels heavy...plus I’m having a headache…)

(But I must gotta get up now…)

*Screen’s back*

Laito: Ah, bitch-chan. You wake up? Good morning ~ ♪

Yui: Laito kun. You were awake huh.

Laito: Mhm, it’s been pretty while.

I’ve been thoroughly staring at your face like this.

While thinking that yesterday many things happened plus we had fun too, you know?

Yui: Kh...you’re really unbelievable…

*Laito backs off*

Laito: Well then, we shall get up and take preparations right away.

Yui: ...You’re right.

(It’s not like I can’t stand my current physical condition, so I’m fine.)

(Above that, I gotta get ready quickly…)

Place: 地下回廊 / Underground Corridor

Laito: Tell me, Bitch chan. Even though we get the mineral, but…

That‘s gonna be a secret to that boy, okay?

Yui: Eh, but why…

(That boy was the one who gave us a hint…)

Laito: It’s ‘cuz we still entirely don’t know what’s that boy’s true intentions.

We don’t have any reason to become nice this far, don’t we?

Yui: ...Well…

???: You were able to get that mineral?

Yui: (Kh...This voice…)

Laito: Ohh, it’s you. Who knows, you better take a guess?

Young vampire boy: Hmm— You’re not gonna tell me huh.

Laito: Nfu, you got the point ♪

Yui: ...Tell me, why are you willing to enter the Earl’s castle?

Young vampire boy: Eh? Umm, well…

He had stolen one of my precious things. I want to take that back from him.

Yui: ...A precious thing?

Laito: Heeh, it’s a coincidence because it’s the same case for us as well. ...So? What did he steal?

Young vampire boy: ...That’s...I can’t tell you…

Laito: ...Oh I see. Well then, we’re not gonna一

Yui: ...Did anything happen?

Young vampire boy: ……

Yui: (He’s looking down…)

*Laito holds her hand*

Laito: Hey, bitch chan. It’s enough already, isn’t it? We don’t need…

Yui: Listen Laito kun. Can’t we take this boy with us…?

Young vampire boy: Khh….!

Laito: Kh...Why are you saying these now? I told you before, didn’t I?

It’s the boy who doesn’t even wanna share with us if we ask his circumstances.

If that’s the case, then why do we have to go that far for him?

Yui: It’s because...we can’t leave him behind.

He’s facing troubles for getting something stolen, just like me一一kh!?

*Screen vibrates* 

Yui: (...It’s getting dizzy....)

Laito: Wh...Yui chan!?

*Laito holds Yui closer*

Young vampire boy: Kh...big sis! You okay? What’s wrong so suddenly?

Yui: To say the truth...this morning I was a little…

(...No way...I am getting faint…)

(...It means I’m gonna drag Laito kun into trouble once more…)

Laito: Haah...So you caught a cold because of that yesterday huh?

Oh, it can’t be helped. We should go back to the hotel for now and…

*The boy holds Laito*

Young vampire boy: Kh...hold it for a sec’!

Laito: Haa? But why? This girl is sick so that’s the only option, right?

For starters, it’s none of your businesses to stick your nose in our plans or whatever, yes? So, let go of my hand at once?

*Take back his hand*

Young vampire boy: Kh...no way it’ll be allowed!

Hey everyone! Hurry up and capture these guys!

Yui: (...Everyone…?)

Young vampire boy A: Oi, hand over this woman to us!

Young vampire boy B: You gotta face me duh!

*Laito backs off*

Laito: ...Heeh, you have had so many companions huh.

What do you wanna do to bitch chan by making your friends deal with me?

Kh…!

*Punch*

Young vampire boy C: You keep your mouth shut!

*Punch 2 times*

Laito: Kch…

Yui: Laito kun…! No, stop, you can’t be so violent…!

*Holds her*

Young vampire boy: Fufu, rest assured. I won't be violent on you…

Instead of that big-brother, it’ll be a better match if you’re with me... 

Yui: Kh…!

Young vampire boy: You all, I’ll leave the rest on you.

Young vampire boy A: Okkey! Count on us!

Laito: Kh...Wait up! Where’re you taking that girl...eekk…!

*Punch*

Young vampire boy: Fufu, it doesn’t matter right? Till next time, big-brother…

Yui: Laito...kun…

*BG black*

Yui: (...I’ve no strength left…)

*After a moment*

Yui: Kh…

(Hm…? What’s this cold thing…)

*Screen back*

Place: Underpass, the boy’s hideout / 地下道内少年のアジト

Yui: (Kh...my hands-legs are chained…!?)

Laito: ...You’re awake? Bitch chan…

Yui: gh...Laito kun…!

(It’s the boy’s hideout where we came before…)

Laito: Oh damn, we really had to face great troubles…

I told you earlier right? ...it’s a loss to trust unknown persons.

Yui: Laito kun...you okay? That’s...he hit you a lot…

Laito: Don’t worry. I'm a vampire at the end.

But as you see, it’ll be pretty difficult to escape if we’re chained up like this.

...More importantly, he had also snatched away the mineral.

Yui: No way…

*Door opens*

Young vampire boy: Heeh, you already got conscious huh? You two are unexpectedly strong.

Yui: Kh...you are…

It’s terrible...why are you doing such things…?

Young vampire boy: ‘Why,’ you asked….It’s because you haven’t listened to what I said at all.

You were trying to hide that you got the mineral, no?

Yui: ...That’s…

Please remove these chains. It will be okay if you just release Laito kun…

We will hand over that gem to you. That’s why let go of Laito kun.

Laito: Kh...Bitch chan!

Young vampire boy: Hmmm, you’re treasuring big brother this much huh…

...Alright though? I can free him just as you said.

Yui: You mean it…?

Young vampire boy: But you know, there’s one more condition. That is…

*Holds her hand*

You have to become mine…

Yui: Eh…

Laito: Ggh…!

Young vampire boy: Heh, to begin with, I think it’s a mismatch for you and this big brother as a couple.

For a person like this big sis who’s beautiful and kind to everyone…

一engaging with a man like this big brother who lies too much and doubts everyone, I don’t get it at all.

For this, break up with such a boy right now, and be my girl.

Yui: ...No way…

Laito: Hmm, you’re admitting it after all huh. Despite me being a liar and not trusting people, you entrusted the missions to…

Young vampire boy: Ngh...shut up!

Tell me big sis, what’ll you decide?

Whatever your answer is...if you don’t become mine then…

I’ll throw away this boy at the basin of that volcano.

Yui: Ngh....!

Young vampire boy: ‘Cuz you don’t need him right? This useless garrulous or something…

Yui: You’re completely wrong!

Young vampire boy: kh…

Yui: Laito kun is not a useless garrulous.

Certainly he don’t trust unknown people so easily,

And it’s sometimes they find it difficult to understand his considerations. 

However…I do understand him. He had always been filling his head with many other thoughts.

Moreover, he was looking for the best techniques for my sake...

...and always sympathized with me...and I can clearly feel it...

Young vampire boy: ………

Yui: ...Another thing’s that, I am not a very amazing one as you’re thinking of.

I often make moves without consulting, and perhaps I have many disobedient sides I think…

But even though Laito kun is aware of my bad sides, he is still letting me be with him. That’s why…

(That’s why I like him…)

Young vampire boy: ...What are these. For a while you're just…

You mean this guy is outstanding than me…?

Laito: You should know that it’s not something related to victory or defeat…

I wonder if you can’t turn this girl by your side anymore? ...Such a poor thing, Nfu.

Young vampire boy: Gh...I can’t talk with you more than this! Do whatever you want!

*Goes away*

Laito: ...Haah. Can’t talk with you more than this...this was my line…

This is why companying a bossy kid is tiresome….But…

Yui chan...I’ve come to know that you were thinking about me that way…

....Thanks to this outcome for that, I guess?

Yui: ...Laito kun…

*Chaining sound*

Laito: Then, shall we do whatever we want as he said.

First of all, would you mind unchaining me with the key that he had thrown off?

Yui: Mhm, got ya’...!

*After he is released*

Laito: Hmm, oh my. Finally I’m free huh…

By the way, how’s your condition? Looked like you had a fever…

Yui: Ah…

(I completely forgot while I was obsessed with explaining that boy…)

(I think we’ve lost a huge amount of time...perhaps I got back to normal as the time passed…)

(Maybe as that boy said, I got so much strength…)

Laito: Fufu, can I say you will be fine in this state?

Yui: Yes, I am alright.

Laito: That’s good. Then we shall get go for taking back the mineral.

Yui: (...The mineral…)

Laito: Alright then…

Yui: ...Wait, Laito kun. I have something to say about that.

Laito: ...Something to say? What is it?

Yui: Aren’t we gonna leave this place for now?

Laito: …? I don’t mind though?

Yui: (I’ve finally understood the point after clarifying my feelings…)

(What’s the most important to me…)

(That’ll probably be…)

Place: Glimmer Main Street / グリンマーストリート表通り

Laito: You’re gonna give up on getting back your heart? ...What are you trying to say exactly?

Yui: You’ve heard it right.

...For this, there's a possibility for my lifespan to become shorter…

...But for having a temporary kleinod inside me doesn’t mean that I’ll die right now, am I wrong?

Plus, if I get my heart back, all it’s gonna do is to just turn me back into a human.

Unlike vampires, it’s not like I will be able to live forever…

Laito: ……

Yui: I got it. As I thought, you are the most precious to me.

Plus, I’ll hate to see if you are experiencing very dangerous things for these....

Since I have a limited lifetime, I want to cherish the time I can be with you.

...So, from now I don’t want to stop fussing over to get back my heart.

...By thinking these, I think it’ll mean opposing you…

Laito: ...Haah, certainly these days, you are opposing me a little…

Yui: ...I am sorry.

(Even though I have been companying with him this far…)

Laito: I always think you are very important to me, you know?

No matter how long’s your life-span, even it’s for one day, if there’s a way to live with you for a long time,

It’s very normal that I’d manage something about that right?

Yui: Ngh…

Laito: But it’s not that I don’t get what you meant…

And also you said that, yes? In front of that boy…

But even though I’m aware of your disobedient or bad sides, I am still letting you be with me….

Yui: (Oh…)

Laito: Then, as long you acknowledge it, then I can’t help it but to respect your opinions.

Yui: Laito kun…

Laito: So it’s decided then, okay?

Yui: Yes…!

Laito: Now that our intention is also settled, what shall we do now.

In passing, today is the parade’s last day, ya’know?

Yui: (Parade...oh that’s right…)

(I wanna extremely much enjoy the time we’re together...then…)

….Today is the last day, so what about enjoying the parade? ...With two of us together.

Laito: I know right. We gotta have fun! Then firstly...一

Place: Saint Honoré Park Street / サントノレパーク通り

Laito: Haah, the haunted house....it was so cool right...I ended up feeling chilly…

→ Selection

...I wonder? / ...そうかな? (+Correct)

Certainly… / 確かに...

Yui: (...I wonder…? That being said, Laito kun seemed like that was very easy for him...)

Laito: As if like, you were clinging onto me to show off the ghosts...

It was so unbearable arousing that I even started shivering! Haa~...

Yui: (That is…!?)

Laito: ...Then what shall we do next? Since we have gone through all the attractive things…

What about going to the spa around here?

Yui: Spa…?

Laito: Seems like we got sweat for bustling around this park like a crazy.

I can tell that the spa is over there. It’s at the Onyx Tower.

We can also watch the finale of the parade from there, yes?

Yui: Yeah, I see. Then let’s go there.

Place: スパ / Spa

Laito: Neh, Bitch chan? What’re you doing in that corner? Come over here.

Yui: Th- that’s because…!

(I didn’t even hear of any same gender-bathing…!)

Laito: Nfu, it can’t be helped. ...Here I come.

*Laito comes closer*

Yui: Kyaa!

Laito: Nfu. It’s fine...now

Yui: La- Laito kun…!

(He is close…!)

Laito: Eh~? No need to hold back. You were the one who said to enjoy the times when we are together.

Then it will be pointless if we don’t stick with each other, isn’t it?

Yui: You got a point but…!

Laito: I wonder if that boy has entered the caste using that mineral…

Yui: ...Yes…

Laito: It’ll be disappointing if he doesn’t enter. We had so many difficulties to get that mineral in our hands.

Yui: Fufu, you’re right.

Laito: And guess what, that situation of abusements while we were tidied up with chains was…

...It was a little exciting. 

I’m thinking about role playing those moments this time.

Of course with you okay? Nfu♪

Yui: Eeeh…!?

Laito: Yep, yep, I almost forgot about our everyday-list. I’m gonna add this too.

If it would be you instead of that boy to look down on me at that situation…

Aaa~! I can’t help it just by predicting!

Yui: (...If it’s Laito kun then, then every situation is okay for him…)

Laito: Anyways, we should get prepared for watching the finale.

Yui: (...It’s time already. I didn’t even realize…)

Laito: But if you want to rush into the rest of the time having fun with me like this, then…

I don’t mind cancelling the plans of watching the finale. Nh…*kiss*

Yui: Kyaa…!

Laito: I ended up being in the mood to do this because of thinking so many reckless things….nnh…*muwah*

Yui: La- Laito kun…! Don’t do it in such a place…!

Laito: Eeeh? But isn’t this place so perfect for this?

Yui: N- no!

Laito: Haah...you’re refusing again huh. Well, it’s fine. I’ll continue it after we go back to the hotel.

But as a penalty for this, tonight, I’m really gonna do more amazing things, okay?

Yui: (Kh...Honestly, he doesn’t have any carelessness or weak-spots as he said these…!)

Place: Onyx Tower, Inside Hall / オーニュクスタクー内部ホール

Laito: Bitch chan! This way, this way! Hurry up~!

Yui: Laito kun, hold on…!

Laito: There’re a lot of customers who are visiting the finale.

Yui: By the way, what do they do in the finale?

Laito: Huh? I haven’t told you yet?

Everyone flies lanterns all at once from downtown.

Various lanterns of illuminating colors are gonna fly up from different places, and it’s so beautiful.

Since we won’t get to see this everyday, so I wanted to show you.

Yui: Heeh…

(I’ll look forward to it…)

???: You two over there. Please wait for a second.

Yui: Eh…?

Laito: ...Where is this voice coming from…?

*Normal crowd noises*

Yui: (...Could it be that only two of us can hear it…?)

???: My name is Walter.

Laito: Kh...Walter you say...Earl Walter…!?

Earl Walter: That’s right.

These few days I have been observing your actions one by one. Every single one, even the thing that you gave up on taking back your heart...

Laito: Haah...observing one by one means you got bad habits. Seriously, you’re being like someone from somewhere.

Then we no need to say anymore than this. We stopped thinking about her heart already.

That’s why can you stop dragging us into troublesome things?

Earl Walter: ...Fufu...Hahaha!

Laito: Kh...What’s so hilarious?

Earl Walter: Tell me young lady. Are you really okay with this decision?

Yui: ...No problem at all. It’s what Laito kun and I ended up making a conclusion…

Earl Walter: ....Fufu, oh yes. I see…

You two are far beyond stupid than I had imagined…

Laito: You’re spitting out pretty bold things...Not to mention that you’re not even showing your appearance.

Earl Walter: Hmph, but however...may be it’s also a truth in one kind of view.

Yui: ...What do you mean exactly?

Earl Walter: Well, do you know the reason that I took away your heart, lady?

Yui: ...The reason, that’s…

(I have no clue at all…)

Earl Walter: You know, the precious treasure that you were possessing...that is your heart…

I wanted to taste whether you’re worthy to have that treasure with you or not.

Yui: Eh…

Earl Walter: Thus, I put you into many trials and watched over your situations, but…

But I didn’t really expect to reach this conclusion…

Laito: Haah...our apologies that we couldn’t work out as your expectations but, we already decided. So leave us alone.

Earl Walter: ...Ofcourse I will.

However, just moving according to the plot isn’t everything. In short, it is great if you understand the point.

Alright then. I shall give your heart back.

Yui: Eh…!

Earl Walter: From now on, make me look forward with innovative strength and strong mutual feelings that you two have. Fufu…

*White flash*

Yui: Kh…!

*BG white*

Yui: (It’s dazzling…! What on the Earth is going on…!?)

(Kh...Earl Walter has…)

(...Could it be…)

Laito: Kh...Yui chan…!

*BG Fades to CG*

Yui: ...Laito kun…

Laito: Gh...You okay?

Yui: ...I am good. More than that...I think I…

Kh...Laito kun please, suck my blood right now!

Laito: Eeh? Right here?

Yui: Yes! Right now!

(This sensation...it’s no mistake. I’m sure, in my chest I can feel the…)

Laito: Nfu, I can’t hold back since you’re inviting me like this~

But you know, I can already understand just by hugging you like this.

...It’s alright. You’ve gotten that back inside you.

...You heart, right?

Yui: …!

(I really get back my heart…!)

Laito: Nevertheless, that Earl who puts others in troubles is really unbelievable…

That heart belongs to you in the first place,

Weather we’re worthy to have this heart or whatever, I don’t care about that either way now.

...But it comes out good right? For this, I can spend time with you gorgeously

Without having too many thoughts or worries, right? Nfu ♪

Yui: Laito kun…

Laito: Oh, well then Yui chan. Raise up your face?

Yui: Eh…?

Laito: It’s the finale of the parade, plus you get your heart back. Since we’re having just pleasure and pleasures... 

So let’s kiss as a present for this celebration...nnh…*kiss*

*Fades to CG (2)*

Yui: Nh…*Kisses back*

(...You’re right. To us, these are full of pleasures and pleasures.)

(From here on, I’ll be able to live with Laito kun…)

(With two of us, together…)

一 The END of Chapter O 4