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#let alone different countries and continents
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Thought too hard about how I name Tieflings and started considering the role of "common" in DND and how different real life languages might fit in that framework. Needless to say now I want to write an essay but alas. Its midnight.
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when you realise that the inevitability of feeling love in small places in life also includes feeling grief (potentially) in those same places.
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dollypopup · 4 months
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I can't stop thinking about Colin on his travels. Colin, alone, on a journey to 17 different cities, across several countries. Colin on his own.
Colin who writes letter after letter, to his family, to his friends, and barely gets a response back. How long before he understands that they didn't get lost in the mail? How long until he realizes that, just like when he was a boy, no one has the time for him? The space for him? How many letters unanswered before he lets it finally take root and fester in his mind?
He could have died on that tour.
Would they even notice? Would they see when the letters slow until they cease? Would they wonder why? His mum, surely (maybe, possibly, but she has enough on her hands, besides, and he's never been a concern, in need of her assistance, before), but anyone else? Anthony on his honeymoon, Eloise a stormcloud personified, Benedict taking on the familial responsibilities, Fran preparing for the marriage mart and in Bath, regardless. Daphne, his closest sister, a mum running her own estate.
Greg and Hyacinth who enjoy his stories, but are children.
Pen who ignores him. No explanation, no goodbye.
Colin who has no one in his corner. Colin who travels city to city, putting on personas. Will they like me? What about now? Colin who has hardly anything to read from the people he loves. Who do not think of him.
And yet he thinks of them. Brings them back gifts, writes his recollections for them until it hits him that, oh, they don't care. They don't care what he's doing, how he's doing. They didn't want to hear it before, when he was there with them, and they do not want to hear it now, either. Did they even open those envelopes? Did they see them come through the post, just as proof he's alive, and shrug off the contents? Did they look? Once, Colin sends an empty page. No one notices. Easier, then, to send just the outsides. People only ever care about the outsides. Pretty and prim in neat packages, uncaring of what lies beneath. Sea sick on the rocking boats, staring up at stars on the continent, Colin grows aware, but not bitter. Sad, but resigned.
He loves his family, he loves Pen, loves them to grace, loves them to it's okay. It was him, he determines. Too chatty, his letters too long, uninteresting, his passions dull or droll, or else, worse, he's displeased them in some way. Colin who takes refuge in stranger's arms and homes, who dreams and tries to sate his curiosity. Colin who pretends, because anyone, anyone but him would be received better, he's sure of it. Colin who must talk too much, surely, and with no one to listen. Colin who learns to hush.
Yes. Remarkable- as in, I have many remarks about it.
How many times did he go to excitedly write of what he did that week, and stopped himself, knowing it was a waste? How many times did he write and throw into the fire a letter asking Why don't you see me? Why don't you care?
If he didn't make it, how long would it take for anyone to notice? A month? Two? A year? Would they wave it off as his frivolity, denounce him as a flake and fume about the funds? Would they wonder where it was he had lost himself off at?
He cannot fall into that, so, he writes in his journal, instead. Of the ache of it, of how he longs for connection, for understanding, for someone to take him seriously. He keeps it with him, this log of his discontent, of his folly and felicity, of his pitfalls and pains.
If he didn't make it, would they realize all that's left of him is what he sent them, not even a body to bury? Did he look over the side of a bow of a boat and look at the churn of the ocean and think of how many bones it held? Did he tip his face to the sun? How many new scars did he earn? Who did he befriend?
Who did he become?
Somewhere along the line, Colin learned. He learned the real him wasn't wanted.
Somewhere along the line, somewhere between Patmos and Paris, Colin left Colin behind.
And, somewhere along the line, Colin laid face to face with loneliness in his bed, and it wrapped its arms around him.
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pamgkrthwrites · 4 months
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Captive Consort Chapter 1 - Blood of War and Rings
Warning, the following content is for an 18+ audience. If you are under the age of 18 do not read the content below. Warning, the following content has disturbing/triggering themes such as; Yandere, Arrange(Political) Marriage, Religious/Cultural Differences, Imperial Harems, Self Harm for Religious Practices. I do not support or encourage these themes or actions, they are merely written fictional events for entertainment. The character(s) depicted within this post are over the age of 19. (This list may get updated with each new Chapter Update)
DNI IF YOU ARE AN AGELESS, MINOR OR BLANK BLOG
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Taglist: @yazminetrahan @emmab3mma @dreamcastgirl99 @optimisticprime3
Fandom: BNHA
Pairing: Bakugou x Female Reader
Additional Pairings: Iida x Ochako, Kirishima x Mina, Mitsuki x Masaru, Mitsuki x Inko
Themes: Fantasy AU, Arrange Marriage, Political Marriage, Cultural/Religious Differences, Yandere, Greek Inspired Reader, Imperialism
Summary: Your country has been at war with the Barbarians for almost a year, and the Barbarian Prince, Katsuki Bakugou, has requested a peace treaty. Problem is, he is demanding either a large sum of money that your country can not provide, or you as his bride. You're from a culture inspired from Ancient Greece, while Bakugou is from a culture inspired by Imperial Japan, Imperial Russia, and Vikings, so there are are going to be a more than a few issues that arise from this and how people treat you differently.
A/N: I literally have an assignment due to tomorrow but no I spent MY ENTIRE WEEK writing this. I might be mentally unwell......... ANYWAY Hello hello. This is probably the LONGEST thing I have ever written for one chapter. Be prepared for Melissa Slander.
Word count: 10k+
"Father, you can’t seriously be considering marrying me off to that barbarian prince?!” You stood before your father in disbelief.
He couldn’t actually be considering this proposal, right?
Your father sat at his desk, the treaty paper in his hands. “He says he’ll stop the war if our nation gives him money that we do not have, or marry off one of The Nine Shachou Member’s daughters of marrying age. Unfortunately, you’re the only one who is of marrying age and has yet to be married.”
“But father-!”
Your father slammed his hand on the table as he stood up before shouting at you. “You will do as I say, child! We cannot afford to continue this war with the barbarians! Let alone with the rest of their savage continent! At least this way, we have a way of controlling them!”
You bit your lower lip, trying not to cry. You should’ve known this wouldn’t have worked.
You are merely an object to be traded for these monsters.
“You’ll be shipped over on one of our boats. I’ve been told it’ll take thirty days for you to reach their continent if everything goes smoothly.” Your father said as he sat back down. “You’re just going to have to deal with this, child.”
You gripped the side of your dress. “When do I leave?”
“We will be sending our response to those barbarians at first light tomorrow. It is already written up.”
That wasn’t an answer to your question. “Am I taking anyone with me?”
“That depends on the prince’s response. He may not allow you to go with any maids or guards.”
You were silent as you looked down at the floor. 
“I recommend you pray to the gods while you still can, child.” Your father told you. “Also bring miniature statues of them as well. That continent of savages worship different gods to us. I will pray to Soteria to protect you.”
You clutched the beads around your neck, each of them symbolising one of your many gods.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After a week had passed, you were instead shipped by carriage with your father to meet with the prince and his men at their camp.
Your mouth smeared up when you noticed the wet mud before your feet.
“Fourth Shachou,” You heard a gruff voice with a thick accent say. “We hope your journey was safe.”
You turned to see a green haired man with freckles on his cheeks. He stood at one hundred and eighty-three centimetres tall and had green eyes. He didn’t wear typical clothing you saw of the barbarians, but you could still see it was from their continent, but with the skin that was showing you saw a large amount of scars. All differing in lengths and widths.
Your father gruffed as he left the carriage and walked over to the young man. “I see you know our tongue.”
The green-haired man kept a smile on his face. “We speak the same language, Fourth Shachou.”
You got down from the carriage, holding the skirt of your dress up to avoid it being dirtied from the mud. The green-haired boy looked towards you and scanned your face. 
“This is my daughter.” Your father put his hand on your back as he said your name, pushing you forward.
“I am Midoriya Izuku.” The green-haired man introduced himself. “I am childhood friends of the Barbarian Dragon Tribe Prince, Bakugou Katsuki.”
“Dragon Tribe?” Your father repeated. “I thought there was only one group of those barbarians.”
“Be careful of your tone, Fourth Shachou.” Midoriya warned before answering your father’s question. “Back in times of old, there were many Barbarian tribes. With the rise of the Demon Lord a hundred years ago, the tribes were either wiped out or forced to merge together to be stronger in numbers. The Dragon Tribe is a result of Humans Barbarians and Dragon Shifters Barbarians merging into one Tribe. They are currently considered to be the largest Barbarian Tribe throughout all of known history of Nihon. They continue to use the name of The Barbarian Dragon Tribe to remember their fallen brothers and sisters.”
Yourself and your father watched as Midoriya went on a ramble of Barbarian history. Once Midoriya was done, he looked at you two and noticed how you had both reacted to him. He blushed lightly.
“Sorry- Didn’t mean to ramble.” He quickly pushed out of his mouth. 
“And what is your relationship with the Tribe, boy?” Your father asked. “To our understanding, they don’t let outsiders into their tribes easily.”
Midoriya seemed taken aback by your father’s statement. “They don’t typically like those from outside of Nihon to join the tribe. You might be mistaking the actions of the tribe to Kacchan. Kacchan is very standoffish to even meeting those outside of the tribe.”
“And who is this Kacchan?”
“Oh- Sorry, I mean Prince Bakugou.” Midoriya said offhandedly. “Kacchan was the nickname I gave him when we were children.”
Your father scoffed.
Midoriya looked at you. “If you are ready, I can take you to go meet him-”
“Women of Girisha are not permitted to speak to men without permission of their father or husbands, let alone walk off somewhere private with a man who is a stranger to her or her family.” Your father glared at Midoriya. 
Midoriya paused, looking up at your father with a look in his eye. His lips were in a line and his eyebrows were knitted.
A smile quickly painted his face, but it was no longer the smile from before. “Yes, my apologies. I had forgotten that was a custom for your people. I simply wanted to ask if she was ready to meet with the Prince.”
Your father replied. “I will be needing to discuss the travel arrangements with him.” As if that was an answer to the question.
You saw the strain on Midoriya’s face. “Of course. Follow me then.”
Midoriya turned and started to lead you two to a large tent, the tarp fabric being a red copper colour. On the ‘door’ to the tent had a symbol on it. The centre of it had a symbol of the first number. To the sides of the character were simplified wings, which met at a base before the numbered character. The symbol was painted on the tarp with a black ink.
Midoriya raised a hand as he got to the door. “Please wait here for a moment.” He said to the two of you before heading instead to the tent himself.
Leaving your father and you standing in the mud.
Your father sneered. “This place is a pigsty. It’s muddy, it smells, and none of the people here smell as if they have bathed.”
You looked down at your shoes, grimacing how they were dirty now. You wondered if your own nation’s army camps looked like this too. It’s not like you would ever know, women weren’t allowed near the army camps.
The tarp opened, seeing Midoriya’s smile. “You can come in now, Fourth Shachou.”
You followed in after your father. You bowed your head as you curtsied while your father merely bowed his head.
“Greetings, Prince Bakugou Katsuki. I am the Fourth of Nine Shachou Member,” Your father introduced himself, stating his name and family name. “As we agreed to in the peace treaty agreement, my daughter.”
You stood back up straight, introducing yourself by name to a man with wheat ash blonde hair and crimson red eyes. He was slouching in a chair, but if he stood up he would easily be one hundred and ninety-six centimetres tall. He had broad shoulders, with a tattoo that matched the symbol on the tent door. He wore a teal crop top that was laced up at the front, an orange sleeve with black patterning starting at his wrist to his mid upper arm, navy denim pants, a red coat with fur coating the neck line, high-low fur skirt that was held up by a dark brown belt, knee high grey boots, and leather armour on his knees and shoulders.
The man was staring at you, his eyes glued to your face and refusing to look away from your face. His finger tapped on his face, as if calculating something.
“I wanted to discuss-” 
“When did I allow you to speak?!” The blonde’s voice was loud, his attention now brought to your father. His glare would throw knives if they could. When your father wasn’t responsive, the prince let out a grunt, pushing his hand down his face. “Make it short.”
Your father hesitated before he spoke. “We have yet to discuss how my daughter will be transported and when the wedding will happen.”
“It’s happening tomorrow.”
“Excuse me?”
A cough came from a man who stood at one hundred and ninety centimetres tall with red hair and ruby red eyes. “His Majesty means the two will be flying there by dragon’s back today, which will allow the wedding to happen tomorrow evening. Traditionally, Barbarian weddings happen at sunset.”
Your father let out a nervous chuckle. “I see you are eager to end this war.”
“I’m eager for my old hag of a mother, the Empress, to stop sending me letters about her almost twenty-one year old son not coming back home.” The blonde corrected.
Your father suppressed a smile by gripping his own hand tightly that his nails dug into his palms. 
The beast of the East is easily controlled by the dominant woman in his life.
“Unless you want to transfer ownership of your daughter now and we get flying this second and have a late evening wedding?” The prince asked with a smug smirk.
Your father paused. “Ownership?”
“That’s how your people treat their women, right? They need permission to speak, which implies ownership over them.”
“I… Guess that is one way of interpreting our customs.” Your father grimenced. “I will permit her to travel to your continent for tomorrow's services. I expect that she will be housed within a separate room.”
“Of course.” The princes said with a smug expression. “I will get one of our axe-maidens to look after her.”
“I’m sorry, an axe-maiden?” Your father questioned. 
“Yes, a woman trained in wielding a battle axe.” The red head explained with a smile. “They start training when they are virgins sure, but they don’t have to stay forever to be an axe maiden.”
The prince looked over his shoulder, giving the red head a look. The red head looked away quickly.
Your father scoffed. “Of course. That will be permitted. Where should we place my daughter’s luggage?”
The prince paused for a moment before making a hand movement to Midoriya. “Tell them to put the luggage with Raccoon eyes’ luggage. We’ll fly separately.”
“Of course, Kacchan.” Midoriya smiled at the prince before walking out of the tent.
Once Midoriya had left the tent, the prince looked back at your father. “Better, Forth Shachou?”
“Will my daughter be permitted to send and receive letters?” Your father asked.
The prince’s lower eyelid twitches. “Yes, she will be able to send and receive. How long it will take will depend on the ocean.”
Silence grew between the two men as they glared at each other. You turned to look at your father’s face, seeing a frustrated expression.
You wanted to ask what it meant, but the expression on your father’s face gave you the answer already.
No.
“Kirishima,” The blonde looked at the red head. “Get your wife, and tell her she’ll be taking care of my betrothed.”
The red head nodded before walking past to leave the tent.
“We use the word intended.” Your father told the prince.
“Fortunately for me then that your daughter will be married to me. Therefore, she will be married in my culture and its beliefs.”
“Does that include your nation’s gods?”
The prince was silent. “I will not be forcing a belief system onto your daughter. She will be free to believe and practise her own beliefs as she wishes. At most, she will be asked to watch one of our rituals.”
“Very well.” Your father looked down at you then the prince. “Should I leave you two betrotheds alone?”
The prince lifted his head off his hand by about 2 inches. He stared at your father, searching to see for any ill intent before his eyes landed back on you. His eyes almost dug holes deep into your skin.
The prince breathed in through his nose. “...That is acceptable.”
Your father smirked to himself.
Weak men can easily be controlled by a woman’s influence.
Your father bowed his head before turning his back to the prince. He leaned close to you and spoke. “Behave.” Your father walked past you, leaning you alone with the prince.
The prince kept his eyes on you as he stood up. His steps towards you were slow, stopping when he was thirty centimetres between you two. His eyes were glued to you, soaking in your inner being. He took a breath in through his nose.
Was he smelling you?
“On Nihon, we address each other by our family names or titles unless we are close.” He told you. “Because we soon will be having the same last name, would it be alright if I called you by your given name?”
You slowly nodded your head, hesitating to speak. “That’s fine.”
“Would it also be alright if you called me Katsuki?”
“I can do that.”
He nodded, non-verbally communicating to you that he understood.
His eyes fell from your face and to the bead around your neck. He slowly pulled his hand to the beads and gently held onto them, tilted them to get a better look.
“What are these for?”
“Each bead represents one of our gods.” You told him as your hands went to one the beads. “This one is for our Goddess Soteria, a Spirit Goddess of Safety, Salvation, and Protection from harm.”
Katsuki was quiet as he let go of the beads. “Do you pray to her often?”
“Yes, she is my family's patron god.” You let go of the bead, your eyes landing on his necklaces around his neck. “Do yours also represent your gods?”
Katsuki looked down at his beads. “No, nothing religious. These are traditional cultural practices my family does. Each loop represents an event in our lives. The orange ones represent my birth, the red ones represent when I first used my magic, and the claw looking one represents my warrior spirit at the first religious hunt that we do.”
You gently held onto the necklace that was longer than the rest but had very little beads. “And what does this one represent?”
He watched you carefully, looking down at the three beads on that chain. 
“... An event that happened during the summer after my sixteenth birthday.”
He’s being vague for a reason. Best to drop the subject.
You dropped the beads and the subject.
“Bakugou I heard you wanted to-!” A feminine voice boomed into the tent.
Katsuki’s head lifted from looking at you, now glaring at whoever walked into the tent. You saw how his mouth went into a scroll and how his cheek twitched.
You turned your head, seeing a woman with light pink skin, messy pink hair, yellow horns, black sclera, yellow iris and stood at one hundred and seventy-five centimetres tall. Her mouth was shut and small as she sweat bullets upon seeing Katsuki’s face.
“Sorry, was this a bad time?” She asked.
Katsuki snarls his upper canines at the woman. He shuts his eyes and takes in a deep breath through his nose. Katsuki addresses you by your first name. “This is Kirishima Mina. She’ll be escorting and protecting you and who you will be travelling with to Nihon.”
Mina looked up at the prince, having a silent conversation before turning to you. She suddenly rushed towards you and held your hands in her own. “It’s nice to finally meet you! I’m Kirishima Mina! You can just call me Mina so you don’t get me confused with my husband.”
You were a bit startled by her forwardedness, trying to take a step back. Your back bumped into the prince’s chest, making you step forward towards Mina.
Mina leaned to the side and looked up at the Prince. “What’s first on the agenda today, boss?”
“You’re flying her to meet the Empress.” The prince replied. “The old hag will take care of everything until the wedding tomorrow.”
“Sorry- The wedding is tomorrow?!” Mina stared at the prince before looking at you. “Oh goodness! We don’t have the time!” She looked back at the Prince. “Wait until your mother hears about this!”
“Yeah yeah.” The prince gruffed. “Just make sure everything goes as smoothly as possible.”
“Right on it!” Mina smiled as she held onto your arm and started to guide you out of the tent. You noticed a few of the barbarians’ eyes on you once you left the tent, noticing your father’s eyes were not one of them.
The girl that was all pink guided you to an area that had bags of luggage, some of yours was mixed into that. There you saw Midoriya and the red haired man who you were pretty sure was called Kirishima.
Kirishima saw Mina, a side smile quickly forming on his face. “Mina! You came back quickly!”
“You could’ve told me the wedding was tomorrow!” Mina whined to her husband. 
Midoriya chuckled. “I’ve never seen Kacchan this eager to hurry something up.”
“He often complains that a rushed job isn’t a good one.” Kirishima sighed. “Yet all he has wanted to do regarding this is get it rushed.”
Mina turned to you with a smile. “I’m going to shift and these two are going to load our luggage onto me. This might take some time so try to find a comfortable place to sit.”
You were a bit confused in what Mina meant by that until smoke started to emit from her skin. A sudden cloud of smoke was around her body up to four times of her normal height. Once the smoke cleared, a pink Wyvern Dragon that had a yellow shine to its scales stood at  four times her normal height. She now stood at over seven metres tall, and that's when you didn’t count her yellow horns.
Kirishima sniffled, having a large smile on his face. “My wife's dragon form is so pretty, doesn’t she?” He asked you.
Kirishima stared at you, his smile going slightly flat when he noticed you weren’t responding.
“Oh, right.” Midoriya tapped Kirishima’s shoulder. “The custom for Girisha Women are that they have to have permission from their father or husband to speak to other men.”
Kirishima seemed shocked by this news. “But, didn’t-?”
A whine came from the big dragon, making Kirishima bring his attention back to her. He chuckled and started to move. 
“Sorry my love.” He told her. “I’ll start loading stuff on.”
You watched as the Dragon form Mina laid on her stomach as Kirishima put on a harness on her. It allowed one to sit in the centre of a circle but also allowed luggage to be strapped to the sides.
Midoirya tapped your shoulder, giving you a smile. “I know you can’t respond, but I do need to warn you that the flight from here to the capital will be over seventeen hours long. Mina should be able to push herself to fly the enter time, but you should sleep when night falls. Kacchan will be a couple of hours behind you.”
You simply nodded your head before turning back to watch Mina and Kirishima communicate somehow as they loaded everything up. You could only understand Kirishima’s end of the conversation, and it just sounded like banter.
You heard your name being called, and when you turned you saw your father. “Come here child, I wish to speak with you.”
As you walked away from Mina, Midoriya and Kirishima, Midoriya watched as you obeyed your father. They exchanged a look between each other. Mina’s dragon form let out a found, and in response Kirishima rubbed his hand along her body.
Once you were close to your father, he spoke to you in a hushed voice. “What did the prince talk to you about?”
“He asked if we could call each other by our given names, and then about our necklaces.” You answered your father, your hand going to the beads around your neck and starting to fiddle with them.
Your father had a smug expression on his face. “Really? Seems like the barbarian prince is weak to the woman around him.”
You pressed your lips together, thinking about how Katsuki reacted to Mina rushing into the tent. Though it was always possible he was just angry that the conversation was interrupted. 
Best to remember to not accidentally cut him off or interrupt him in the future.
“What do they plan to do with you now?” Your father’s voice cut through your line of thought.
“The Prince wants to send me over to Nihon as soon as possible. I’ll be leaving as soon as they finish packing my belongings onto the dragon shifter.”
Your father raised an eyebrow at you before looking at the pink dragon behind you. “I can’t believe they refused to ship you via boat because of possible sea monsters, and yet will happily throw you into the sky.”
You really doubted they made that decision because of safety concerns. They probably made that call because the war would only be considered postponed until the wedding happened. 
Maybe they were worried you would withdraw your consent to get married to The Prince?
Maybe that explained why he seemed kind with you alone in the tent.
Once the wedding happens though, I doubt he’ll keep up that act for long.
“Try to become close with The Prince.” Your father told you with a hushed voice. “Make him loyal to you and only you.”
You hesitated before nodding your head to your father. “I’ll write to you once I’ve settled in.”
Your father nodded his head. “Do try to be safe, child. We don’t have much information on their way of life, so we have no idea of the world you're about to be thrusted into.”
“Fourth Shachou,” A voice spoke. “I do hope you aren’t being rude about the people who will be taking care of your daughter.”
You both turned to see Katsuki there, his eyebrows knitted as he glared at your father. You noticed how he was slightly slouching. His eyes only darted to you for a moment though quickly went back onto your father to glare at him.
“Of course not, Prince Bakugou Katsuki.” Your father told him. “I am merely telling my daughter to be safe is all.”
“Oh really?” Katsuki raised an eyebrow at your father. “And how would you recommend your daughter to stay safe in a foreign land, Fourth Shachou? By staying in her room all day?” Katsuki turned his head slightly to Midoriya. “Is that not what we saw happening in some of the estates? They had locked their daughters and wives in a room?”
As Midoriya stuttered out of agreement, you remembered a lesson you were taught while growing up.
If a city is under siege, it is best to lock women in a hidden room for their protection.
You bit the inside of your mouth, one of your hands gripping your arm. If you did end up having to be locked in a room, wouldn’t that just mean you weren’t safe? 
“I simply don’t want my daughter to be victimised while under your care.”
“She won’t be.” Katsuki glared at your father. “No one who has ever been under my care has gotten hurt, and considering your daughter is to become my wife, I’ll be putting extra effort into it.”
“We’ll have to see how successful that is.” Your father snarked back.
Your father and Katsuki glared at each other. Midoirya came from the side, soft smiling at you. “It’s time to leave now, miss. I’ll help you-”
“No you won’t, Deku.” Katsuki turned, glaring at Midoriya. 
Katsuki stomped over to where Mina was. You tried to follow closely. Whatever this atmosphere was, you did not want to find out.
Once Katsuki got close to Mina, he gently grabbed hold of your waist and lifted you up. He let you lean on him as you climbed up onto Mina’s back and into the saddle. You heard your father start to complain to Katsuki about how to handle you properly. You elected to ignore it for now, trying to sit comfortable on the cushions that seemed to be strapped down to the saddle.
“How about you say your goodbyes to your daughter instead of correcting me!” You heard Katsuki’s voice boom aggressively as he addressed your father. “Considering this may be the last time you see her, I suggest you make it a kind goodbye.”
Last time?
Was Katsuki planning to get rid of you as soon as he could?
You looked over the edge of the saddle, seeing your father carefully approach.
You also noticed the glaring looks Katsuki, Midoriya, and Kirishima were giving you.
Of course, it all makes sense now. They are waiting for you to be alone and kill you. Of course they don’t like you and your father. Why did you think they would like you?
Your father called your name. “Just try to stay safe. Write to me about your progress there.”
You nodded your head, waving down at your father.
Mina stretched out her wings and jumped into the air, her wings starting to flap to keep her in the air. She started to ascend higher into the air before starting to fly through the sky, away from the war camp. She moved much faster than any boat or carriage you had been on.
You secured yourself as you felt your legs shake and shut your eyes.
Breathe, everything is going to be alright.
Just breathe.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You were woken up by a sudden landing, jolting you awake..
You were no longer in the air.
You sat up and rubbed your head, hearing people yell around you. You looked off the side of the saddle, seeing a woman who looked just like Katsuki yet shorter and wearing a crown on her head yell at staff around her. To her side was a man with brown hair and glasses, speaking very softly.
The woman looked up at you before smiling. “Good morning, young one. Would you like assistance getting down?”
You weakly nodded your head, rubbing your eyes and yawning.
She gave a laugh before yelling at someone to help you. Suddenly, a woman who appeared to be a witch of some kind floated up.
She had brown auburn hair that stopped at her shoulders except two side tufts that were a bit longer, brown hazel eyes, and hair skin that made her cheeks a soft pink colour. She was wearing a dark pink witches hat that had fake beige dragon horns, a vertically striped dress that ended at her mid thighs, black stockings, pink boots, and a green cape that was warmly wrapped around her neck and flowed down past her knees.
She smiled softly at you as she extended a hand out to you. “Grabbed hold of my hand and I’ll help you down.”
You looked down at the floor, wondering how the hell did Katsuki helped you up in the first place. You gently took her hand, and soon you felt your body become lighter. She was tugged down by someone in silver metal armour with a green cape coming from their armour. Once your feet touched the floor, she said ‘release’, which was followed by that light feeling going away.
The blonde woman walked towards you. You guessed this was Katsuki mother - and therefore The Empress - you bowed your head and curtsied before introducing yourself.
“Oh no need to do that, young one.” She chuckled, helping you up. “We will be family by day’s end. I am The Barbarian Empress of The Dragon Tribe, Bakugou Mitsuki, and this is my husband. Consort of The Barbarian Empress of The Dragon Tribe, Bakugou Masaru.”
As you bowed your head to Masaru, you noticed the witch float up again and started to float down the luggage. “It is nice to meet you, Empress’ Consort Masaru.”
He smiled. “It’s nice to meet you too, young lady. If I may ask, how old are you?”
“Nineteen, sir.”
“Hmm… And when is your birthday?”
You answered his question.
“So you were eighteen when the war started I see. Regardless, it seems like we will have to change the wine out for some grape juice.”
You blinked out of confusion. “Sorry?”
The Empress spoke. “At Barbarian Weddings, we have a cup the couple drinks out of. The couple must cut their hands and spill some blood into the cup before they drink from it. We see this as a form of physically connecting the two bodies together. The wine we use simply covers up the taste of the blood.”
“Why does the wine need to be switched to grape juice though?” You asked.
“The drinking age is twenty.” The Empress answered.
“I understand. Back home, our drinking age is eighteen for women, sixteen for men..”
“... Really? That’s interesting.” The Empress had forced a smile when she replied to you.
Masaru quickly spoke to try and heal any offence his wife might’ve offered you. “What do your people traditionally do during their weddings?”
“We drink wine to connect with the gods before cutting our hands and spill blood on the Goddess of Marriage, Hera’s statue so she can tie our fates together.” You informed them. “If a divorce were to happen, the statue would be broken.”
The two were silent, their mouths closed as they looked at you.
“It’s alright,” You told them. “I won’t expect The Prince to participate in my religious’ practices. I am marrying into his culture, not the other way round.”
The two seemed shocked by either your wording or what you had said, but before they could say anything, the witch had said the words ‘release’ once more.
You turned and saw all the luggage had been neatly placed on the ground. The witch started to float up again and take off the saddle that was around Mina. 
The Empress turned her attention back to you before speaking. “We don’t believe in divorce. The only way to separate from one’s spouse for us is through death.”
The knight - that had been standing off to the side for a short while - took off his helmet as you saw a man with dark blue hair and rose red petal eyes.
“Sorry to interrupt,  Barbarian Empress of The Dragon Tribe Bakugou Mitsuki.” He bowed his head to The Empress. “Shall I start to transport the Barbarian Prince Bakugou Katsuki’s betrothed’s luggage to her room?”
Does that mean you and Katsuki won’t be sharing a room?
“That would be lovely, thank you, Iida.” She smiled at him. “If you run into Miss Yaoyorozu or Miss Jiro, could you ask them to come see me please?”
“Of course,  Barbarian Empress of The Dragon Tribe Bakugou Mitsuki!” He bowed his head before picking up a few bags of your luggage before running off so far there was a strong gust of wind and a dust trail behind him.”
You watched as the dust trail faded away.
Did he really just address her by her full title? Twice? Were you expected to do that?
You heard a thump sound, and upon turning your head you saw the saddle had come clean off of Mina’s back. Smoke appeared around the Dragon form of Mina, and soon the more human looking form of her appeared.
Mina stretched her back, followed by some popping or cracking sounds coming from her back. She let out a sigh as she relaxed her shoulders, yawning.
The witch softly laughed. “Long night, Mina?”
“I want to have a nap so bad, girl.” She whined.
The Empressed called you by your name before gesturing to the witch. “This is Iida’s wife, Ochaco. She’ll be looking after you while you get ready for today and while Mina is resting.”
“No it���s fine, I can deal with it.” Mina yawned.
“Mina, you should rest.” Ochaco rubbed Mina’s back. “Once Eijiro gets here, I’ll send him your way.”
Iida returned back, grabbing more bags then running off again.
He was gone for maybe twenty-five seconds and he came back for more bags already? How fast is he?
And why was no one else reacting to what was happening?
There were rumours of the Island of Nihon having a high percentage of magical powers, but you weren’t expecting to see two - three if you counted Mina - people using their magical powers so openly.
Mina yawned, nodding her head and bowing her head to the Empress. “I hope everything goes well before The Prince gets here, Your Majesty.”
The Empress smiled. “Thank you for your kind words, Mina. Now go rest. I’m sure Katsuki would be thrilled to see you at the wedding.”
Mina sighed before picking up her bags, putting two on her bag and carrying two under her arms. She smiled at you kindly, her gaze upon you being soft. “Try not to stress out before the wedding, okay?” She told you as she started to walk away.
“Now, let's get you inside.” The Empress smiled at you. She turned and started to walk towards the large palace. The columns on the building were a light grey, almost matching the mountains behind the palace. The outside wall itself was a soft green with painted gold on. “This is the Winter Palace, and those mountains behind it are what we call the Dragon Range. It’s believed to be the original birthplace of our Dragon God. The Dragon Range takes up roughly sixty percent of our land. There is a massive tunnel system within the mountains where our dragon shifter brothers and sisters keep their hoards.”
Iida returned, stopping before the Empress. He bowed his head. “Barbarian Empress of The Dragon Tribe Bakugou Mitsuki, I have put the Barbarian Prince Bakugou Katsuki’s betrothed belongings in their room. I have also found Miss Yaoyorozu and have informed her of your request to meet you. She said she will be meeting you along the way in escorting the Barbarian Prince Bakugou Katsuki’s betrothed.”
“Thank you, Iida.” She smiled at him. “Make sure the Todoroki Family is playing nice today, please?”
“Of course, Barbarian Empress of The Dragon Tribe Bakugou Mitsuki.” Iida bowed before running off again, this time in a different direction.
Once the dust settled, the Empress turned to you. “He may be the most responsible and reliable out of the original group that went to go fight the Demon lord a few years ago, but he is too formal at times I fear there is a stick up his arse.” She softly laughed before turning to Ochaco. “No offence, Mrs Iida.”
Ochaco smiled at the Empress. “It’s alright, your Majesty. Tenya has his own charm on how to do things.”
Once you four had climbed up the steps, the Empress and her consort looked out to the view. You turned, and saw a beautiful view of the land below the mountains being a wide open green land before meeting the ocean. You saw in the distance on both sides, land curving inward on itself, revealing the landmass continent of Nihon was an earthy atoll. In the distance, you saw the headlands of the atoll - which were often referred to as the Heaven’s Gates within the rare texts your nation had on Nihon.
“Those green pastures down there are the rest of our Empire.” The Empress told you. “It’s where all the human barbarians used to live before the rise of the Demon Lord. And the water mass from our coast to the headlands is known as the Ocean's Heart. We believe the landmass that houses the god’s came from that section of Nihon.”
“It’s rather beautiful.” You said softly. 
“Yes, it is.” The Empress hummed. She suddenly slapped her hands together, startling you. “We must start getting you ready. We have a big day ahead of us!”
The Empress started to walk inside, expecting the rest of you to follow.
“There are five sections of the palace. Front, Back, Courtyard, Left Wing and Right Wing. This is the Front of the Palace, the entryway. Everything staff related is located to the Left Wing and therefore, the corner connecting the Front and Left Wing is the ball room. Everything the Imperial Family does is on the Right Wing, therefore the corner connecting the Front and Right Wing is the Library. The Back is where all the apartments are. The Back Right Wing Corner is the Emperor or Empress’ apartment and the Back Left Wing Corner is the Heir’s apartment. The rest of the apartments are often used as Guest rooms if the Imperial Couple does only have one child.  The courtyard is at the centre of the enter Palace. Following?”
You nodded your head. You were a little lost but you understood enough to somewhat follow along.
The Empress’ Consort seemed to read what was on your face before gently patting your shoulder and smiling. “We’ll offer you a map so you don’t get lost.”
The Empress continued. “There is a guest garden which is accessible on the Left Wing and a private garden which is accessible on the Back. Overall, there are over one thousand and five hundred rooms.” The Empress continued as the group entered into the courtyard. “There are three levels. Ground level is the only level guests have access to, even if they are in a guest room it’s on the ground floor. Servants and Guards have access to all floors, but their main walkways are on the top floor. The middle floor is where the Imperial Family operates.”
… You were so lost.
“The Prince will help you if you need any help.” Ochaco smiled at you. 
“One can only pray.” The Empress groaned, rubbing between her eyebrows. She then switched to muttering in a language you were not familiar with. It was harsh on the throat.
Masaru responded in the same language, but how the pronunciation sounded was different. His words sounded softer, still rich consonants but his vowels were softer.
She groaned. She turned to you. “If my son gives you any trouble, please do let me know. I don’t want him to be a burden on his first wife.”
First wife?
Ochaco then spoke to you to answer your unspoken question. “Barbarian Law states those of the direct line of the imperial family are allowed to have up to nine spouses. First spouse is Consort, second to ninth spouses are concubines. This is to make sure the Imperial Line can continue via blood.”
“Though filling all eight concubines spots hasn’t been done in four generations, and even then that Emperor used his eight concubines as secret guards.” The Empress spoke. “And on top of that, the Imperial crown can be passed down by mentorship or by battle. I was passed the Crown via winning a battle to the death against the previous Emperor who got the crown via mentorship. We believe only the strongest can rule the Barbarians.”
So your safety isn’t secure, is it?
“I doubt the Prince would take in a second spouse.” Ochaco tried to reassure you. “I don’t think he’s the type to deal with the politics that come with having multiple spouses.”
You looked at the plant life you were walking past, getting closer to the other end of the palace. You hesitated before speaking. “If I may ask, Empress, how did you meet your consort?”
“He was my dress maker.” The Empress answered truthfully.
Oh.
“How many concubines do you have?” You asked carefully.
The Empress continued to smile. “Only one.”
The rest of the walk was rather silent, The Empress and Consort leading you to the apartment section of the Palace. Surprising to you though, they guided you into your apartment section through the ground floor.
Once inside the apartment, you noticed how there were stairs leading up to the middle floor. The ground floor seemed more of a hosting room more than anything. There was a study that looked dusty, a weapons room with many weapons missing, a dining room, and two more additional hosting rooms. One that looked like it was already claimed by the Prince, and a second that had nothing in it for now.
It looked rather dusty, uncared for.
“I’ll make sure Katsuki takes you to the storage room tomorrow so you can pick out some furniture you’d like to decorate this space with.” Masaru said to you. “If you don’t like anything there, we can get it custom made for you. You can make yourself feel right at home here.”
“Shall I guide you upstairs?” Ochaco asked you.
“That is where our influence of this day ends for now.” The Empress spoke. “I’ll let the Priestess know you have arrived. The wedding will be starting at six in the afternoon when the sun sets. After your bath I suggest you have a nap. It’s going to be a long day.”
You watched as the Empress and her husband left before being led up the stairs. There were two bedrooms, a bathroom, and two dressing rooms. All of your belongings were put into the empty dressing room.
“We can unpack your things after we serve you breakfast.” Ochaco told you. “The Prince should be arriving around the time breakfast starts to be served. I’ll quickly summon a maid to give you a bath, though I’m not sure if there would be hot water active right now. Most barbarian families have baths after dark.”
“It’s alright, I can bathe myself.” You told her. “How my people bathe is by having bath houses, or we simply were ourselves in a stream or a lake close by. I preferred bathing myself in the stream by my family home, so cold water isn’t an issue for me.”
Ochaco was taken back by what you said, looking at you with a concerned and shocked expression. “Weren’t you worried someone would see you bathing?”
“Our Goddess of the Wild Hunt wouldn’t allow such a thing.” You told her. “And even if a fool were too, the punishment would be death.”
She stared at you, a shocked smile was on her lips. She turned away for a moment and mumbled something under her breath. You raised an eyebrow at her before dropping it. You really shouldn’t be surprised if the people here looked or talked about you because of the customs you were used to compared to their own.
“I need to get my soaps from my belongings, so we may as well start to unpack.” You told her as you moved to the empty dressing room and knelt down to pull out your belongings.
One of your bags had no clothes in it whatsoever, mostly carrying all of your religious items such as your miniature statues of the gods. For now, you put those items on a shelf and put your bathroom supplies off to the side.
Pulling out your clothing from your other bags took some effort. Half of your clothing was for warmer weather, which meant the fabrics were thin and breathable, sometimes even see through. While your window clothing was a thick cotton and would cover up your entire body. Only when you pulled out what was planned to be your wedding dress did Ochaco make any sort of noise about your clothing.
“That’s so beautiful.” She smiled at it widely and brightly. The dress was a maxi dress, having ve neck, bishop sleeves, an empire waist, and a handkerchief hem. The fabric was an almost white cream colour, being a lightweight fabric. “Did you pick that out yourself?”
“No,” You told her truthfully. “One of the other Shachou’s daughters who is married gave it to me.”
“Shachou?” She tilted her head. “What's a Shachou?”
You thought for a moment, thinking about how to describe it. “Back home, we have nine elected politicians. Those nine are called The Shachous, and they are ranked with the length they have held their power for. They govern Girisha, debating and voting amongst themselves policies and laws. They are voted in by the voting base, which are men who own land and pay taxes, and men can only pay taxes once they earn a certain amount of wealth.”
“Oh, so similar to the Shiketsu Kingdom?”
You stared at her. “Sorry, I am not familiar with that.”
“They are one of the Kingdoms of Nihon, located on the western headlands. They have a Royal Family, but they vote in a President every ten years. The President works closely with the King and Queen while the Vice-President works closely with the heir to the throne. Though only people who own a home in their capital can pay taxes and are able to be voted into office.”
“... That's similar I guess.” You answered her. “Though, we don’t have a royal family. We overthrew them almost two hundred years ago.”
“So does that mean the people of your home nation disapprove of this marriage?” 
“... I think they would only be angry about it if The Prince imposed himself as our next ruler.”
“But do they disapprove?”
“... They approve on the principle that the war is over. That is all.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You didn’t see the Prince, even after you had finished unpacking, bathed, had breakfast, had a nap on his bed, and had lunch. The only evidence you saw that he had returned was that his belongings had been making their return to the apartment the entire day.
The maids had practically locked you up in your dressing room, and they had given you bowls of strawberries and watermelon to snack on. They did your hair and did your makeup all while looking at some notes on a piece of paper.
You were disassociating for most of it, only being brought back to reality with a soft knock at the door. A feminine voice spoke from the other side of the door, saying your name with care. “I’m Yaoyorozu Momo, the Empress asked me to see how things were going. May I enter?”
You looked at how the maids reacted before answering. They continued to work around you, not giving the voice any mind.
So far no biases showing.
“You may enter.” 
Then in came a half naked lady, making your cheeks warm up.
She stood at one hundred and ninety-three centimetres tall, had black hair and eyes, while was wearing a metal armoured bra of some kind and metal armour on her hips that held up what would be mistaken for underwear, a fabric flowed from the bra and wrapped from behind her, a armour neck brace which held up a green cape, thigh-high stockings, oranges elbow gloves, and armours boots that reached her knees.
You were shocked by her attire, though no one else in the room seemed to be.
She smiled warmly and sweetly at you that you felt guilty for questioning her attire.
“I hope everything is going well.” Her smile beamed. “I made sure the maids had all my notes on what your culture’s hair and makeup typically looks like for weddings. I was so honoured that the Empress even knew of my love for your culture’s aesthetics. 
You were silent for a moment before turning to a maid. “Could I see myself in a mirror please?”
“Yes ma’am.” Said one of them before giving you a mirror. You were surprised to see your hair was done perfectly in the style your people did during weddings and they did it in such a way it suited you. The make up as well made you feel beautiful.
“I’m glad you seem to enjoy it!” She beamed before blushing from nervousness. “I should reintroduce myself- I’m Yaoyorozu Momo, I’m a Mage Commander for the Barbarian troops. My magic allows me to create things from my body, though it uses the fat on my body. It’s why I dress in such a way.”
“I see.” You looked down at her cape. This is now the fourth person you’ve seen wearing a green cape. 
“Usually for Barbarian Weddings,” Yaoyorozu broke you from staring at her cape. “Both the bride and groom wear matching earrings. Prince Bakugou will be wearing his on his left ear for the wedding and we were just wondering if it would be alright if we asked you to wear some on your right ear?”
“I don’t have my ears pierced.” You told her, you were about to explain why but she began talking.
“I am aware your people only allow oracles to wear earrings, but these ones wouldn’t need you to piercing your ears.” She walked over to you and a section of her skin started to glow. She cupped the area that was glowing right before the light stopped, crocheting down before you. She presented to you what was in her hand, which were four gold earrings that had a clip maniche for the back of the earring. “These are clip-on earrings. They won’t require any form of piercing onto your ear. They might be a little painful considering the size of the earrings, but I think they could still work.”
You gently picked it up from her hand and took a closer look. The earring itself was two centimetres in length less than a centimetre in width. Where the gold would be connecting to your ear was a very tiny bulge on both sides.
“... This is acceptable.” You told her. Her face lit up and you heard a maid somewhere sigh in relief. 
“May I put them on you?” She asked. Once you gave a nod, she carefully reached to your right ear and started to put them on your ear. Surprisingly to you they were painful, though they were slightly heavier than what you expected. She pull away and gave you the mirror so you could look at them.
“They look very well on you, ma’am.” One of the maids told you.
“Do you like them?” Yaoyorozu  asked.
“... They will go well with my dress.” You told her, not wanting to admit you liked them there.
Yaoyorozu  stayed crouching before you. “I need to tell you something before the wedding begins.”
Your heart sank, fearing the worst. 
Were they going to sacrifice you or kill you right after the wedding?
“I know for your traditional weddings, the night after the wedding is usually the couple’s first time.” Yaoyorozu spoke gently. “For us, we wait until the woman’s first period after the wedding just so we know the first child is of the married couple. Though the Empress and the Prince have been informed of your culture and traditions regarding the first night, it is unclear what the Prince wants. Which is very unlike him.”
You tilted your head at her comment at the end. 
Unlike him? 
“So I just want to warn you that if you two don’t do it for the first time tonight, then please don’t take it personally. He probably doesn’t want to overwhelm you. Or on the other hand if he does ask if you two could do it tonight, don’t feel pressured to say yes. I know Prince Bakugou seems rough around the edges but he is sometimes surprisingly respectful.”
Why was she doing this? Why is she trying to warn you about this?
It didn’t matter what happened tonight. You were now property of the Prince because of the Peace Treaty. It didn’t matter if you were or weren’t in Girisha, you were still a man’s property. 
“Can I ask you something?”
She gently gripped your hands with hers. “Anything.”
“Why do you, the Iidas and Midoriya wear the same matching green cape?”
The maids froze, looking over their shoulders to watch the interaction. Yaoyorozu was taken aback by your question, not expecting the question to be about a cape.
“Well, the cape shows which Prince I am loyal to.”
“I thought there was only one Prince of the Barbarians.”
“... Officially. Honorary Prince Midoriya Izuku by the status of his mother being the second spouse and first concubine of the Empress. Midoriya was born three years before the two had met and was fourteen when the Empress killed his biological father. It’s the only way to legally transfer spouses for us barbarians, to beat them in a battle to the death.”
You remembered what the Empress told you earlier, that the imperial crown could be passed down via a fight to the death. 
Does that mean if someone challenged Katsuki to one of these battles while being emperor and he lost, you would be handed over to the next Emperor or Empress?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Once the sun started to set, you were brought out of your dressing room wearing your wedding dress by a woman who had blonde hair, aqua eyes, and stood at one hundred and seventy-one centimetres tall. She wore oval framed glasses, a white with pink accents priestess dress, and a small green cape.
Seems like Midoriya has many who support him.
She smiled politely and bowed her head to you, calling you by your name. “It’s an honour to meet you. I am Priestess Shield Melissa. Since you have no father figure with you here today, I will be walking you down the aisle before you exchange vows.”
You bowed your head slightly. “Thank you, Priestess.”
She paused. “Why are you bowing your head?”
“Back in Girisha, we see Priestesses as higher status since they have a higher connection to our gods than most of us do.” You informed her.
She made a face. “Well we don’t do that here.”
“I understand, it’s simply my customs-”
“Then I recommend you keep your Girisha customs to yourself.” She butted in. “Our Prince has already decided to go against our traditions by marrying you before he is supposed to. He is supposed to only marry after his twenty-first birthday, which is in forty-one days anyway but he was adamant this ‘wedding’ should be done right away.”
You stared at her, though not surprised someone was rude to you, simply shocked it was a priestess and so openly.
You were expecting someone to be rude to eventshully.
“I recommend you start learning our ways sooner rather than later. Prince Bakugou is not known for being nice to outsiders.” She glared at you before turning her back to you. “Let’s get going now. I don’t want to be blamed for you being late to your own wedding.”
She turned on her heel and started to walk out, expecting you to follow. Gripping onto the beads around your neck, you put your hands together and brought them to your face as you started to pray to your gods.
“Goddess Soteria, please gift me with your protection and safety.” You mumbled under your breath. “Goddess Hera, please bless me with a good husband who will not hurt me.”
Melissa rolled her eyes as you continued to walk. You were so consumed with praying, you didn’t realise you had reached your destination until you bumped into the back of Melissa.
She looked over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow.
“Sorry-”
“Members of the Imperial Family do not apologise. Now, place your hand on my forearm so we walk down the aisle.”
You turned your head to look, seeing a long wedding aisle that was over one hundred metres in length. 
The longest aisle back in Girisha was barely forty metres long and you were expected to walk down one that was more than double?
“Are you ready?” Melissa asked with an annoyed tone.
You gently put your hand on top of her forearm then started to walk with her for almost two minutes. You tried to ignore the stares you knew you were receiving, keeping your eyes on the red carpet before you.
When Melissa moved her arm away, it was because you had reached the end of the aisle. You saw Katsuki’s grey boots before tilting your head up to look at him. It appeared that the left side of his hair was gelled back, showing his piercing on said ear to the crowd. 
His red crimson eyes were glued to you. He looked at you up and down, looking at the dress you were wearing.
He didn’t give anything that showed he approved or disapproved of the dress, though his eyes seemed to focus on where the beads around your neck were sitting.
Melissa forced a cough to force Katsuki to look at her. 
“Today we are gathered here at sunset to bare witness a man and woman be forever tied together in matrimony, taught to us via the gods.” Melissa started. You heard soft mumblings in the audience but decided to give it no mind for now. “Barbarian Prince of the Dragon Tribe, Bakugou Katsuki, do you take this woman as your wife, to live together, to hunt for her, to love her, to honour her, to comfort her, and to keep her in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for long as you both live?”
Katsuki looked back down at you, his eyes unreadable. “I do.”
Melissa turned to you and said your name. “Do you take this man as your husband, to live together, to bear children for him, to love him, to honour him, to comfort him, and to keep him in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both live?”
To hunt for her and bear children for him? 
You didn’t know where those lines came from or why it was in the wedding, maybe it was just a barbarian thing?
“I do.”
Two children walked up to you. A fourteen year old girl and a twelve year old boy. Both had hair that was either blonde or a very light brown, brown eyes, and freckles on their noses. Both held red pillows, the girl’s sat a short blade and a miniature statue of your Goddess Hera - how she had it you had no idea - on it and the boy’s having two rings.
Katsuki picked up a ring that housed a crimson ruby. He gently grabbed your hand and slid the ring on your ring finger as he spoke. “I, Prince of the Dragon Tribe, Bakugou Katsuki, take this woman as my wife from this day forward, for better or for worse, richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part.”
You picked up the golden ring and grabbed Katsuki's hand. Sliding on his ring on his ring finger, you stated your name. “-take this man as my husband from this day forward, for better and for worse, richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish, till death do us part.”
As you spoke, Katsuki picked up the blade and cut into his left hand. Once you had finished the ring exchange he picked up the statues, smearing his blood on it. You cut into your left hand, tracing the scar from previous religious rituals. He passed the statue to you so you could smear your blood on it.
Melissa passed Katsuki a chalice filled with grape juice. He squeezed his hand so his blood would pour into the cup before passing it to you and taking the statue from you. As you did the same to pour your blood into the chalice, you noticed how rough Katsuki passed the statue to Melissa.
Katsuki took the cup from you, keeping eye contact as you took a sip from it. He passed it back to you, putting his hand securely under the cup as you took a sip. Melissa took the cup, raising it into the air.
“By virtue of the authority vested in me by the Gods, I pronounced these two husband and wife!” Melissa announced to the audience. “You now may kiss the bride.”
Suddenly, Katsuki grabbed your face and pulled you close. His lips met yours with passion, leaving you confused. You closed your eyes as the crowds started to cheer and clapped.
As the crowd continued to cheer and clap, Katsuki pulled away with a smirk.“You're mine now, and you won’t be going anywhere.”
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veronicaphoenix · 5 months
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Series: Into the Abyss of Bad Habits | masterpost. Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Reader x Oliver Sykes
Heart Like Ours. Additional multipart. Chapter 1: The Snakes | Words: 3k Summary: Reader suffers a breakdown due to her mother’s disapproval of her relationship with the boys, but neither Oliver nor Noah are there to comfort her.
Tags and TW: established polyamorous relationship, angst, anxiety, reader’s mother does not approve of her daughter’s relationship with oli and noah, psychological abuse, mentions of alcohol, implied sexual scenarios that are not described, only mentioned. Author's note: I've changed the narrator to 3rd person. Chapter not beta read.
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She burst into tears as soon as she closed the door, shutting out the world behind her. 
 The weight of her mother’s words had choked her during the drive home, but she had refused to let the tears fall until she reached the safety of her home. 
         A home that these days felt empty and devoid of the male voices that brought her so much happiness. 
         Noah and Oliver had been away from home for nearly a month and the three hadn’t seen each other except through cell phone and computer screens since they both left on their respective tours. 
         Bad Omens’ European tour kept Noah continents away, with four agonizing days left until his return. 
         Oliver was on the other side of the country, bound for a whirlwind of gigs before flying off to festival in Mexico. 
         Had circumstances been different, she would have accompanied them. She would have gotten on the plane with Noah to be with him for a week in Europe, they would have taken the opportunity to do some sightseeing in the few hours Noah had free between concerts, they would have made love in a hotel room overlooking one of those rivers that cross several European cities or even the sea, and they would have gorged themselves on all kinds of typical foods from the countries they were in. Then, from there, she would have flown immediately to the city where Oliver was and repeated the same thing with him. She would have followed him from one concert to the next, sending him flying kisses from the side of the stage as he performed and showering him with her love and affection when they were back at the hotel.  
         But today, precisely today, she was alone. They boys were miles away from her, and despite longing for their presence more intensely than ever, she made a conscious decision not to call them, refusing to burden them with her tears and pleas to return. She recognized her own maturity, knowing that calling them and crying about needing their kisses and arms around her, would only undermine her strength and autonomy.  
         So, she cried, her back pressed against the door of their home. 
         Noah’s running sneakers, neatly aligned on the shoe rack, seemed to stare back at her, reminding her that the last time he’d worn them had been nearly a month ago, when he had kissed her goodbye with the passion of a soldier going out to war when he was actually just going for an hour run. Nearby, one of Oliver’s sweatshirts hung on a hook on the wall beside her own jacket, their proximity only serving to amplify the ache of his absence. Though their clothing brushed against each other, the physical touch she craved with him remained out of reach.
         “You’re a whore, what else do you want me to think when you come in here and tell me you’re thinking of marrying two men?” Her mother’s words echoed relentlessly in her mind. “It’s not even legal, because that’s a barbarity! You’re letting yourself be groped like a bitch in heat and now you come up with this? That you want to get married?”
         She gulped, a lump forming in her throat. She had sensed that the conversation with her mother wouldn’t go well, but she hadn’t thought it would go so badly, that she would say those things to her. 
         She fought the urge to retaliate with equal fervor.
         “I love them,” she explained. “And despite what you think, they love me. I know polygamous marriage isn’t legal. We don’t care. We just want to have a celebration with our closest family and friends.”
         “For God’s sake, daughter. Everyone’s going to see what a whore you’ve become, don’t you think? I’ve tried to stay out of this very... sinful relationship you’ve been having with those two, believing that at some point you would realize what you were doing. But instead, you come to my house and tell me you want to get married. You’re not well, honey. And I don’t think your brother is quite in his right mind either if he’s okay with this.”
         Fifteen minutes after arriving home, she kicked off her shoes, shrugged off her jacket, and let her purse fall to the floor by the door. She walked with weak steps to the downstairs guest bathroom. She didn’t recognize herself in the mirror. She wore hardly any makeup, but her mascara had run, her eyes were red and sunken, her cheeks swollen, and every inch of her face betrayed the sadness engulfing her.
         Every time she recalled her mother’s expressions while saying all those horrible things, she was overcome by sobs she couldn’t contain. She leaned on the edge of the sink for a while until she managed to compose herself a little. She could keep crying as much as she wanted, but that wouldn’t change anything. Her mother wouldn’t come to her senses, and Oliver and Noah wouldn’t walk through the door to hold her in their arms.
         Just then, as she eyed the double-band silver ring on her fourth finger and as if they could feel her pain, her iPhone chimed with the sound of an incoming notification. She ignored it. A few minutes later, it chimed again. Almost cursing under her breath, she went to fetch her phone and pulled it out of her purse. A trembling breath caught her when she saw that the notifications were respective to a message from Oliver and another from Noah in the iMessage group they shared, the same one they had created about three years ago when they decided to sleep together for the first time, in the midst of a tour in the UK.
         She hesitated for a moment before mustering the courage to open the conversation, her thumb hovering over the message notification. She would have preferred not to reply, knowing that both of them had some uncanny ability to sense her mood through her words, even if she had written a lie.  
         With a resigned sigh, she tapped open the conversation.
         Oliver: Just tried the best vegan tacos! Wish you were here to try them. Haven’t heard from you guys in the last four hours and I can’t stop thinking about you. Has the princess eaten dinner yet? Pretty boy, did you sleep well? Are you awake?
         Noah: Awake and hungry. Send a couple of those tacos to Stockholm. I’ll pay you back with a good blowjob when I get back.
         As their messages danced across the screen, she found herself smiling, the weight on her shoulders momentarily lifted. 
         But as quickly as the laughter came, so too did the tears, a relentless tide that threatened to engulf her once more. 
         She typed with shaky fingers.
         Her: I’m going to fix myself something to eat and watch a movie. Wish you were here. Miss you both. x
         She pressed the send button and after waiting a few seconds to see if either of them was still online, she decided to lock the screen. 
         She closed her eyes, drew a deep breath, and walked back to the bathroom.
         After washing away the remnants of tears clinging to her skin and tying her hair up in a messy bun, she ignored any reason she had to go upstairs to the master bedroom. She didn’t want to go in there because, in her state, she knew what would happen. So instead, she looked for something to occupy herself with in the kitchen. 
         The prospect of idling away in the kitchen wasn’t very exciting, but it offered a temporary respite. She pushed aside the temptation to grab a cold beer from the fridge because it wouldn’t take her any time to open it and drink it. At least, making coffee would keep her occupied for a few more minutes.
         She was about to pour the coffee into a mug when the doorbell rang.
         She wasn’t expecting anyone, much less at this hour. It was Friday, and it was almost dark outside.
         She didn’t expect to find her brother standing in the doorway, his hands in the pockets of his jeans, his shoulders slightly hunched against the cold breeze that had just picked up.
         “Jack?”
         It only took him a few seconds to look at her to know that she was a mess. He clicked his tongue and hugged her right there, in the entryway of the house. She held her breath, letting her brother envelop her in his arms for a while until he finally let go and encouraged her to go inside and close the door, which she appreciated because she was about to burst into tears.
         “Mom called me,” he announced. 
         That’s why he’s here, she thought. 
         “She told me you went to see her and tell her about the wedding... She didn’t hold back, and she called me some ugly names, too,” he shrugged his shoulders, as if unaffected. “But I was worried about you.”
         He extended an arm to touch her cheek affectionately.
         “Yeah,” she replied with a hint of detachment. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate him coming to her house to make sure she was okay or to keep her company; she simply didn’t want to think about her mother any longer, not today. Perhaps not for the rest of the week and the foreseeable future.
         “Have you talked to them?” Jack inquired, looking around the kitchen as his sister made her way back to the counter where an empty black mug waited for her.
         At the question, she sighed, filling the coffee mug to the brim. She knew sleep would elude her that night anyway, so no problem in having coffee at those late hours.
         “I sent them a message a while ago.”        
         “A message?” Jack quirked his head inquisitively and raised an eyebrow. Sensing her reluctance to elaborate, Jack rested his hands on the kitchen island and leaned closer to his sister, standing on the other side.
         “Baby sis, you have to tell them what happened. I get that they’re miles away and you won’t be able to see them for a few days, but they deserve to know what’s up and how you’re holding up. If you don’t, they’ll figure it out anyway. Those two have a radar or sixth sense for this stuff when it comes to you,” he said, almost earning a smile from her at the comment. Sometimes their wavelengths aligned perfectly. and to think that Noah and Oliver were such attentive partners made her stomach flutter, even after all these years. “And if you keep ignoring their calls, you know they’ll end up calling me, and I will tell them.”
         “Jack...” she began, tired.
         “I’m serious. I don’t want you stuck here alone in this massive house feeling like crap.”
         “Fine,” she conceded, still clutching her coffee mug but not yet taking a sip. “I’ll call them.”
         It wasnt true, but she needed to lie to get Jack off her back. Oliver would be back home in a few days. She would tell him then. But until that day, she had to prove to herself that she could handle whatever came her way without relying on anyone else, without needing not only one, but two shoulders to lean on. 
         “Good.”
         “Want some coffee?” she asked, lifting her mug to shift the conversation.
         “No, thanks,” Jack declined. “Actually, speaking of coffee, there’s another reason I”m here.”
         She furrowed her brows, taking a sip. 
         “Oh? What’s up?”
         “Sylvie has stopped drinking coffee,” he announced, prompting his sister to raise an eyebrow. “Well, the caffeinated kind, anyway.” A grin spread across Jack’s face, and his sister’s eyes began to widen. “She’s pregnant.”
         “Oh, Jack! That’s great!” She nearly dropped her coffee in excitement. She swiftly moved around the island to hug her brother. 
         “I know. I’m going to be a father. Crazy, huh?”
         “How’s Sylvie? How far along are you, guys? I’m going to be an aunt!”
         “She’s good, been a bit nauseous for a few days, but nothing unexpected. Both her and the baby are fine. We had our second routine check-up yesterday, and well, Sylvie wanted to tell you three when you were all together, but after talking to mom today, I thought maybe I could lift your spirits a bit with the news. I don’t mean to overshadow your strife with this, I hope you know that.”
         “Jack, for fuck’s sake. Don’t be silly. This is the best news I’ve had all month. I can come over to your place tomorrow to see Sylvie.”
         “Sure. She’ll be thrilled. She was really looking forward to telling you. But please, do me a favor and call the guys, okay?”
         He wasn’t going to let that slip onto the back burner. She had tried, at least, but her brother was as attentive and supportive as theyb come, and she couldn’t fault him for it. If anything, she should be grateful. 
         “Yeah, yeah,” she replied. “Can I tell them about the baby? Oli’s going to be ecstatic. He loves babies. Noah, though, he’s still a bit weird around them.”
         Jack laughed, nodding. “Absolutely, go ahead and let them know after you talk to them about today,” he said while he kept his gaze firm and expectant on her. “We’ll get together once they’re back to celebrate.” 
         Jack stayed with her for about half an hour, talking about Sylvie’s pregnancy, discussing their future, and sharing tidbits he knew would keep his sister’s mind occupied. 
         But of course, as soon as Jack left, she found herself once again enveloped in the silence of a house that felt too big for herself whenever she was alone.
         With an empty stomach, she finally found herself compelled to go upstairs and enter the master bedroom, where she was welcomed by that unusual order and tranquility that she had begun to detest as the days Noah and Oliver spent away from home grew longer. She appreciated order and cleanliness, but on days like this, she hated crossing the threshold and not finding Noah’s dirty socks scattered here and there or Oliver’s jeans piling up on the armchair in a corner by the windows, the water bottles they always left on the nightstands, Noah’s vitamin gummies, or the books they would sometimes start reading while she finished showering after late work shifts. 
         After changing into comfortable clothes and deliberating for a while, she eventually crawled under the sheets, turning off the lights, and turning on that TV that Oliver had insisted on installing in the room against her and Noah’s wishes. The device had been there for over a year, and yet, she could count on one hand the times the three of them had bothered to watch a movie while in bed. 
         She resumed the series she had started watching alone after the guys left, but found herself struggling to concentrate on the storyline. Her feet felt cold beneath the duvet, and she couldn’t shake the sensation of feeling small in the vast expanse of the bed, with no one beside her. a little girl in the middle of a bed so big with no one beside her.
         She ceased her nail-biting to retrieve her phone from the bedside table, cluttered with Oliver’s stuff, and checked her messages. There was a missing call from Oliver that she missed to attend while in the bathroom, along with a string of messages from both him and Noah. After her previous message, Oliver had sent a couple of selfies, earning a compliment from Noah, which was rare. Despite being together for three years, Noah still seemed somewhat reserved when it came to complimenting his boyfriend—now fiancé. On the other hand, had shared a series of photos of the city where he was with the band.
         She replied with comments about the architectural beauty of the buildings and remarks about the nice weather. She made an effort to write something funny about Oliver’s selfies. Then, she informed them she was in bed, mentioning how cold it felt without them, before bidding them goodnight.  
         Just as she felt herself drifting off to sleep, memories of her mother’s harsh words flooded her mind, shattering any hope of rest and bringing forth fresh tears. Struggling to suppress both the tears and the haunting memories, she shifted in bed, confronted once again by the empty spot Noah should have occupied. 
         Her thoughts transported her back to the last night they had spent together, to the tender way she had traced the lines of the snake tattoo adorning his neck, followed by her affectionate kisses and nibbles before she straddled him, his erection seeking the familiar warmth between her legs that he called home.
         The memory only served to exacerbate her unease and sadness, intensifying the ache of his absence. 
         Sitting up in bed, she cast aside the sheets as a sudden surge of heat enveloped her. She despised how her sobs reverberated off the bedroom walls, amplifying everything she felt. 
         She stared ahead into the darkness for a few seconds until her vision adjusted to the dim visibility of the house shrouded in the night, and when she began to make out the silhouette of the furniture, the corner of the huge rug at the foot of the bed, she saw herself there on her knees, with Oliver standing in front of her but with his back turned to her. He was shirtless, and she was pulling down his jeans and underwear to reveal the snake etched across his lower back and buttocks.
         As she exposed it, a smile played on her lips before she began to trace it with her tongue, slowly. Oliver practically growled into Noah’s mouth, who was in front of him, also shirtless, and holding him close with a hand behind his head, pulling on his hair. 
         With a sob louder and more despairing than before, she rose from the bed, almost angry with the two men for not being there even though it wasn’t their fault. 
         She felt pathetic. 
         Making her way barefoot to the closet, she retrieved one of Oliver’s shirts, then one of Noah’s, and hurried downstairs, nearly tripping over her own feet.  
         Around three in the morning, exhaustion eventually overtook her. She fell asleep on the couch, curled into a corner, the shirts pressed tightly against her chest, each preserving the distinct masculine scent of its owner. She had cried until there were no tears left to shed. 
CHAPTER 2: THE ANGEL OF DEATH - COMING SOON
Taglist: @girlfromrussia-universe | @oro-e-diamanti | @lma1986 | @missduffsblog | @bngurngheart | @winterwinchester | @jilliemiw86 | @sorrowsofsilence | @th4t-em0-k1d | @to-be-written | @nonamessblog | @somebodyels3 | @starsomens | @ditto66 | @dominuslunae | @cookiesupplier | @midnight-eternals | @pennysky | @iknownothingpeople | @cncohshit | @ladyveronikawrites | @blackveilomens | @robabankfuckmickeymouse |@kageyasma | @concretedaddy2018 | @silentglassbreak | @thescarlettvvitch | @sammyjoeee | @pathion | @shilohrosechicken | @skulliecadaver-blog | @anameunmusical | @lobolocaamo |
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noroi1000 · 1 year
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can i order something satosugu with a girlfriend who is very air-headed and incredibly strong, as if she is a special grade sorceress, but despite her strength, she is very affectionate with her boyfriends
Strength is not everything
SatoSugu x reader
Summary: You are not strong without them. Despite being a special grade sorcerer. You are weak without them. Without them, your strength is meaningless.
"What are you doing there?"
You looked at your boyfriends who were standing in the bedroom doorway staring at you.
"You were supposed to leave... Did something happen?" Suguru asked you, watching your face.
You were going abroad.
Because according to the superiors, it doesn't make sense that three special grade sorcerers are in Japan, in the same place in Tokyo.
While Okkotsu and Tsukumo were traveling around the world, you were in Japan. And sometimes you just went on missions abroad. But then you went home.
However, you were to leave for Europe forever. To take over missions there. So that there are not so many powerful sorcerers in Japan.
You were supposed to fly there today.
They took you on the last stationary date before you left.
Because once you leave, you'll never live with them again. The only contact you will have with them is the Internet.
Nothing more...
That's why you were sad...
You were a very confident person. Your superiors didn't like you because you were too brazen with your strength.
You thought they wanted to get rid of you.
And it hurt you that they hate you so much that they want you to leave the country.
Once you're gone, the only time you'll be able to meet them live is when you're in Europe, and so are they.
However, neither they nor you can take a long leave of absence. Because they can't do it without you...
That's why your life was bad in that sense.
You didn't have much free time. The Missions and Teaching of Students...
If you were to leave, you'd lose a part of you...
You couldn't smile without them.
You're really attached to them... You can't live without them.
Would you just go away and leave them?
You don't want to live a life where you have them far away from you.
It would be the most painful time for you and them.
You've been with them all day. All night. To give them one last evening with you.
Without them, it doesn't matter how strong you are...
You cried in the night knowing it was the last time you could cuddle with them for so long.
You cried when you didn't want to let them go at the airport.
You cried when you knew what you had with them would never happen again. Because you'll have to have a different life.
But how were you supposed to give up loving them? How could you stop wanting to live without them? How
How?
You couldn't. You're too used to their presence.
You're too used to them being there all the time.
You loved them too much.
You couldn't live without them in another country. On another continent. It pained you to know that you would be alone in your new home. And they won't come home from work to lie down next to you.
You will never live in Japan again. You will never live the way you used to live.
Since your home will be in another country...
Maybe you were brazen with your strength... But when it came to them, you were so weak with them...
They were stronger than you. It is obvious. But you were still strong.
And their presence made you even stronger...
How could you just give up your happiness because others told you to...?
Would you rather have them than this strength...
You preferred to have their love forever ... And not to sit in another country and see them only via the Internet.
You want skin to skin contact. With them. You don't want to sleep alone in bed.
You want to sleep in your big bed where the three of you sleep.
Because of this bond with them. Because of this attachment. You wouldn't be able to live normally without them.
Before you got on the plane, you ran out of there.
You escaped and returned home on your own.
So that later when they come home they see you on your bed with tears on your cheeks.
You pulled them both to you, not caring that they both fell on top of you, crushing you on the bed.
You cried holding their bodies.
"Baby-." Satoru started. But before he could finish, you started sobbing the words into their bodies.
"I do not want! I do not want to leave! I want to stay with you!" you moaned.
You were so strong. But they're so weak. So weak without them.
You couldn't be strong when you were taken from them.
You could never be powerful when you were separated from them.
It was such a cruel and horrible feeling... But it was real.
Every strong man has his weakness.
They are your weakness.
Because without them you can't be strong...
"You don't have to leave if you don't want to..." said the White Haired Man as they climbed off of you, laying on either side of you.
They wiped your tears.
"You never have to leave us. You know very well that we love you."
You smiled slightly at their words.
So nice and comforting.
You are so strong. But without them you can't use your strength.
You've become too attached to them to leave now. Nothing would be the same without them.
That's why you want to stay forever with the two men you love so much.
"If I was without you, my strength doesn't matter."
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delicatefestcloud · 1 year
Text
I just saw someone call movie firstprince toxic bc Henry told Alex "sometimes I feel like you don't know me at all..."
I can't believe people, especially those who read the book, could miss the point of that scene entirely: Henry was terrified. He believed that coming out was not an option AT ALL for him. So what he meant by "you don't know me" was "you don't know that I can't do what you're asking of me" which is to fight for their love. During that whole monologue, Alex was quiet, listening as Henry let all his frustrations out:
" I didn't grow up with a loving family"
"I have centuries of history bearing down on my shoulders"
"I can't afford to be reckless"
"I will not trade one prison for another"
These are legitimate points that Henry was making, and Alex respected that, but he also understood that Henry was looking at what Alex wanted: for them to be happy together - not out (yet), just together- as impossible because it's not sustainable to live in different continents and have a secret relationship forever when you're a prince and he's an aspiring politician. With the spotlight on both of you like that, you will be found out. Alex finally understood just how "out of the question" Henry believed them being together publicly to be. That's why he told him "fine, I'll leave, but nothing will ever happen to you (if you decide that you can never let anyone love you. You will live the rest of your life alone, is that what you want?)."
Henry was then forced to see that he is at a crossroads:
Either he lets Alex go, never see him again, live his life in a way that the crown approves of, and never be happy.
Or,
Admit to himself that the love he has for Alex and the happiness he found with him are worth the terrifying notion of one day facing his grandfather and the country and saying "This is who I am, this is the man I love, I know you'll never accept that, but i'll take your disapproval over not being with him -over being miserable for the rest of my life."
He chose the latter. How could he not? when Alex, the love of his life, the man of his dreams, flew across the ocean for him, and was standing right there, in tears, fighting for them, all while making it clear that he will respect Henry's wishes if he tells him to leave.
This scene started with both Alex and Henry seeing something that the other did not see: Alex did not see just how walled-up Henry was about the idea of them ever being able to love each other in public. And Henry did not see that there just may be a chance for them to be happy. That him living his life alone and miserable is NOT set in stone.
I love this scene so much because they actually listened to each other. They both considered the points the other was making. Neither of them was trying to "win" the argument. They were both stripping themselves bare, being the most vulnerable they've ever been in front of each other.
Henry did not just change his mind out of nowhere: for the first time in his life, he was given a glimmer of hope, and he let himself be brave enough to take it.
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joblrcensus · 8 months
Text
it’s time for the JOblr census results 🧡🙌
before we start i want to thank everyone who took their time to answer this silly little project, gathering responses from 203 baby boos!! it’s my first time doing this so hopefully i can bring some excitement with the results <3
so buckle up and let’s get into it
general questions
Which continent are you from?
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Unsurprisingly, the majority is European with a total of 80.8% but it’s amazing to see that they’ve crossed the continent’s border and we also have 9.9% people from North America, 3.9% from Australia & Oceania, 3.4% from Asia and 2% from South America. No person chose the Africa option.
Which country are you from? (optional)
With this being an optional question, 162 respondents out of 203 opted to answer it. Let’s take a look at the top countries by number of people in JOblr (small note: I counted the few people who wrote England or Scotland as part of the UK answer)
Drumrolls 🥁…..
Finland - 29
UK & USA - 15
Germany - 11
Poland - 9
Italy - 8
Australia - 7
Sweden - 6
Austria, Spain, The Netherlands - 5
Croatia, Slovenia - 4
Czechia, France, Romania - 3
Belgium, Canada, Denmark, Hungary, Lithuania, Norway, Philippines, Portugal, Ukraine - 2
Bolivia, Brazil, China, Estonia, Greece, Iceland, India, Luxembourg, Malta, Mexico, Russia, Switzerland - 1
How old are you?
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45.8% of us are between 18-25, following by 23.6% between 26-30, 18.2% between 31-45, 10.8% under 18 and two people who are over 45 years old.
Are you part of the LGBTQ+ community?
Remember when they said Joker Out are for the girls and gays? 🏳️‍🌈
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Well that was absolutely not wrong since 77.3% baby boos answered that yes they are part of the community, while 11.8% are questioning and 10.8% have answered no
tumblr activity questions
How do you participate on JOblr?
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a majority of 98 people are mostly reblogging posts in the fandom but sometimes making posts of their own, 38 are only reblogging while 36 lurkers have stepped out of the shadow and made themselves known. The least amount of people (31) said to be active posters
Do you post any of the following?
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It’s already known this fandom is mad talented and entertaining!! It’s always a joy seeing everyone’s creations and posts no matter the type. And the people who are only enjoying and supporting the content are just as important 🫶
Do you also post about Käärijä?
Since these two fandoms are basically overlapping, sometimes even seen as one fandom, I was curious just how much
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50.7% also post about Käärijä outside of Joker Out, while 35% don’t post about him at all (or perhaps very rarely). 14.3% are mainly coming from Käärijä’s fandom
joker out questions
How did you find out about Joker Out?
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Another unsurprising result, with 89.7% of us finding out about them through Eurovision. But it was really cool to see that there are people who discovered them differently. Ten people found out about them through Tumblr or other social media, to four they were recommended by someone and one through a music platform. The “other” option was chosen as well and included:
finding out about JO through Käärijä
through a music blog review
on slovenian radio
Who from the current members is your favorite?
One of the hardest questions but it had to be done
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So Tumblr’s top favorite members areee:
Bojan - 69 votes
Jan - 42 votes
Kris - 40 votes
Nace - 35 votes
Jure - 17 votes
Have you been to a Joker Out concert?
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I did not expect this one to be so balanced but I am pleasantly surprised! 104 people have been to a JO concert, while 99 haven’t. It often feels like you’re the only person who hasn’t seen them live yet but it’s nice to see that you’re not alone, so if anyone feels the same don’t worry our time will come too 🥹
If you answered yes, have you seen them multiple times?
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Out of the 104 people who previously answered yes, there’s still a balance between those who have been to only one concert and those who have been to multiple
If you’re into RPF, which one of the most popular ships (according to AO3) is your favorite?
Another optional question where 181 out of 203 opted to respond to.
Oh boy, ooooh boy this was a tough battle. It felt like I was watching a horse race. I can tell you that all three ships have been at some point in the first place, or even equal. Are you ready to see the most interesting result yet?
Drumrolls again 🥁…….
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BoJere - 58 votes
BoKris - 57 votes
Jance - 56 votes
The “other” option was also chosen and the following ships were included:
BoMartin
Jan/Jure
Kris/Jure
Nace/Kris
Nace/Jere
poly!JO
aaaand that’s it, you made it to the end 🫶 hope you enjoyed and why not see you on the next census!!
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canirove · 9 months
Text
My neighbour Rúben | Chapter 1
Summary: Have you ever watched this movie Scarlett Johansson and Chris Evans did before Marvel called “The Nanny Diaries”? It's about a girl, Scarlett's character, who finds herself working as a nanny for a very rich family, and Chris happens to be her hot and very cute neighbour. And something very similar is what has happened to me, neighbour included. Though in my case, mine is very cute and very hot. And handsome. The most handsome man I have ever seen. And his name is Rúben.
Author's note: This story has been finished and waiting in my drafts since 2022. I wrote it as a new and different version of "The Nanny Diaries" (my story with Ben Chilwell) because I didn't like it, and then I ended not liking this one either 🙈 But time passed, I read it again recently, thought it was cute… And here we are, having now both of them posted when they weren't supposed to 😅 I hope you like it, and as always, thank you for reading! 💜
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Have you ever watched this movie Scarlett Johansson and Chris Evans did before Marvel called “The Nanny Diaries”? It's about a girl, Scarlett's character, who finds herself working as a nanny for a very rich family with a spoiled kid and Chris is her hot and very cute neighbour. And something very similar is what has happened to me, but let's start from the beginning.
My entire life was designed to achieve one goal: become the best piano player in the country. Or in the continent if my father got too excited. And since I can remember, I've been glued to one.
While my friends were going out to the park, I was going to my teacher's house to practice. While my friends were meeting to go shopping or watch a movie at the cinema, I was practicing. While my friends were going out clubbing and meeting boys and girls, I was going early to bed because I had practice in the morning. And while my friends were choosing a career path they liked and enjoyed and moving to different cities all around the country, I only had one option: playing the piano and moving to Manchester, where the best teacher lived. 
The weather sucks, yes. But it isn't such an ugly city as they say, and all the people I met were lovely and very welcoming. Unless you are fighting with them for a spot on the next recital or to get the next scholarship. That's when things get nasty, and that's how you end up with broken fingers and the dreams your parents had for you shattered. Because becoming the best piano player of my generation wasn't my dream, it was theirs. Or my father’s to be precise.
So when Anastasia Hamilton pushed me down the stairs and I found myself with two broken fingers on my left hand, a sprained ankle and my body covered in bruises, I didn't complain. Well, that's a lie. I complained and cried because it hurt like hell. But I didn't complain when they told me I wouldn't be able to play the piano like I used to due to one of my fingers not healing properly despite being treated by the best doctors. I didn't complain because I was finally free. If I wanted to play, I would be doing it because I wanted to, not because it was my job, because I had to, because my future depended on it. Now I was free to finally follow my dreams and not my parents’. Or that's what I thought.
I told them I wanted to take a gap year to figure out what to do with my life, but they said no. They had decided that I should study to become a music teacher, to help others achieve what I hadn't been able to. We argued, they said that if I wanted to do anything different it would not be with their money, I said ok, and I found myself alone in Manchester with barely any money or a place to live.
And that's when I crossed paths with Julia. 
I had gone to the shopping centre to see if anyone was looking for a waitress or someone to fold t-shirts in a shop, when I saw her crying in the middle of one of the corridors, most people walking past her and ignoring her. 
"Hey, are you ok?" I said, kneeling in front of her. "Where are your parents?"
"Quiero a mi mamá" she sobbed. That was why people were ignoring her. She only spoke Spanish and they didn't understand her. But, lucky me, I used to go to the north of Spain for music summer camp and I can speak it fluently. 
"¿Dónde está tu mamá?" Where is your mum? 
"No lo sé. Estaba comprando una taza fea y..." Her mum was buying an ugly mug. I couldn't help but laugh at that.
"Ok, let’s go find her.” Where we were most shops only sold clothes, but I remembered I had just walked past a Zara Home. Maybe she was there? "Come" I said, grabbing her hand. She didn't say a word and just followed me, her sobs turning into hiccups. 
"Julia!" a woman screamed the moment we turned the corner. "Oh, Julia, I thought I had lost you!" 
"Mami!" the kid said, letting go of my hand and throwing herself at the woman. "Me perdí y esta chica me ayudó."
"Did you help her?" the woman asked me.
"I saw her crying and that people were ignoring her, and I decided to check on her. She was speaking Spanish and I think that's why most people were walking past her, because they weren't able to understand her."
"Oh, she always does that when she gets upset. Do you speak Spanish?"
"Yup."
"Oh, you are an angel" the woman said, hugging her daughter a bit tighter. "I don't know how I'm gonna be able to thank you."
"Knowing that she's alright is enough, don’t worry."
"No, no, no. You must allow me to do something for you. What do you say, Julia. Should we invite this wonderful angel to have lunch with us?"
"Yes!" Julia said, her English coming back. "We'll bake you a chocolate cake! Do you like chocolate cake?"
"I actually do, yes" I smiled.
"Then it's settled. Let me give you my card, it has my office phone number on it" Julia's mum said, opening her bag. "Call tomorrow morning and we'll schedule that lunch together."
"Ok. Thank you."
"Thank you" the woman said, giving me a hug. "My name us Lucía, by the way. But you can call me Lucy like everyone in this country does."
"Nice to meet you, Lucy."
Lucía, Lucy. A Spanish lawyer specialized in divorces, and the divorces of very wealthy people. Which meant that when I arrived at her house for that lunch date, I found myself before one of the most expensive apartment buildings in the city. 
"Are you coming in, miss?" the doorman asked.
"Yes, hi, sorry. Do I have to tell you where I'm going or..."
"You don't look like a thief" the man chuckled.
"I'm not, I promise. I'm meeting with Lucy and Julia."
"Oh, yes. Miss Julia said a friend was coming for lunch today. An angel."
"That must be me" I said, blushing a bit.
"Then welcome, miss" the man said, opening the building's door. "Do you know their floor number?"
"Yes, the 7th. Letter B."
"That’s the one. Call for the lift and push the number, their house will be the one to your right."
"Thank you very much, sir."
"My pleasure, miss" the man said with a smile. Roger. The loveliest man you'll ever meet.
"So glad you could make it" Lucy said after opening the door, giving me a hug. 
"Angel!" Julia screamed, coming to also hug me. "You came!"
"Of course I did."
"She’s decided to start calling you angel because of what I said at the shopping centre. I hope you don’t mind.”
“It’s fine, don’t worry" I smiled.
“Come, let me show you my room" Julia said, grabbing my hand and forcing me to follow her.
After a tour around the house and its many rooms, we were back in the living room, one where the small flat I was renting thanks to some money my grandparents had been sending me without my parents knowing, could perfectly fit.
"Is that a real piano?" I asked Julia.
"It's daddy's" she said. "We used to play together."
"That's lovely." My dad never played with me just for fun. It always was about practice, practice... And oh, yes, more practice.
"Do you play?" Lucy asked me.
"Since I was Julia's age."
"Oh, that's wonderful! Why don't you play something for us while we wait for our food?"
"Sure" I said, sitting in front of the huge black piano. It was a very expensive one like everything else on that building.
"Daddy used to play that!" Julia said when she recognized the song. "Hey Jude, don't make it bad... Mami, why are you crying?" she asked her when we finished.
"Because it was beautiful, sweetheart. And you play so well" Lucy told me. "Have you ever thought about giving lessons?"
"Not really..."
"Julia started to take them a few months ago, but her teacher... Had other things to do, so now she doesn't have one. Would you like to take her place?"
"Me?" 
"Yes, angel! Be my teacher!" Julia said, clapping her hands and jumping.
That was what my parents had wanted me to do. To become a teacher. I wasn't going to be doing it at the music school, but this still was teaching, right? And I liked Lucy and Julia a lot despite only knowing them for just a few hours. 
"I'll do it" I said. "I'll be Julia's teacher."
"Oh, perfect!" Lucy smiled. "When can you start?"
"Whenever you want. I have nothing else to do" I shrugged.
"Then tomorrow. I have to work, so maybe you could pick up Julia from school, bring her here and start your lessons? I'll pay you for that extra time."
"Ok" I nodded.
I had found a job, one that I liked, and one that was going to pay me handsomely judging by the numbers Lucy had mentioned while doing a draft of my contract. 
I was so busy thinking about all that, checking the details she had given me about Julia's school, that I hadn’t noticed the lift had made it to the lobby and the doors were open. 
“Are you going up again?” a male voice said.
“Uh?” I replied, lifting my eyes from my phone. And what did they see? The most handsome man you could ever imagine.
“Are you going up again?” he repeated.
“I…” I had forgotten how to speak. I may have not been wearing an ugly costume like Scarlett in one of the scenes where she met Chris Evans, but I had my jaw on the floor and definitely was making a fool of myself. “No” I finally managed to say.
“So… are you leaving, then?” he asked, trying to hide a smile.
“Yes” I said, still looking at him. Was he real? He was real. When he stopped the lift’s door from closing again, taking a step forward towards me, I saw that he was very real. “Thank you. Sorry. I’m leaving” I blurted out, my brain finally remembering how speaking worked. Kind of.
“It’s ok” he replied with a smile. No, not a smile. A smirk. One that made everything inside me turn upside down. “Bye” he said, walking inside the lift and letting go of the doors, disappearing behind them while I just stared. He must have thought I was stupid. A creep. Or both. But what else are you supposed to do when you find yourself face to face with the hottest man in planet earth?
“Miss, are you alright?” I heard Roger say from the door.
“Yes, yes. Just… Processing what just happened. That I got a job, I mean” I quickly added, noticing how he was arching an eyebrow, his eyes moving to the lift. 
“Oh, those are great news, miss. Congratulations.”
“Thank you. I guess you’ll be seeing more of me from now on.”
And hopefully, I would be seeing more of him too. Of the hot neighbour, my own Chris Evans. Though later on I would find out that his name wasn’t Chris, that would have been too much of a coincidence.
His name was Rúben. 
146 notes · View notes
saerins · 1 year
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─── 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄, 𝐘𝐎𝐔
+ reo mikage x f!reader | wc 3.2k | content: fluff, best friends to lovers, one-sided pining, making out, very suggestive, not an smau btw ( i just wanted to show how they are around each other <3 ) , did not proof this
notes: sigh idk besties there’s just something about reo that’s so sexy :(((( and he’s just ray of sunshine :(
summary: heartbroken, you turn to your best friend for an escape. but he gives you much more than that.
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reo keeps his word.
the next day, he’s at your door bright and early, 8am. it’s sweet, really, but he doesn’t tell you where you’re going, the country or whether it’s even on the same continent. which really should bother you, but it doesn’t.
because you know reo.
he’s always like this; full of ideas, fun, adventure. he likes to try new things, likes getting challenged, likes everything under the sun except being told what to do, something that he picked up since he was a kid.
that being said, you’d known him since high school, just a bit after he became friends with nagi seishiro, someone you used to have a crush on until that’s all it became—a fleeting crush. reo had called you out on it, being as observant as he is, and you’d become fast friends with him, and somehow you don’t remember when you stopped having that crush on nagi. (you’re still good friends though.)
still, you’d never gone on a trip with reo alone. you’re not quite sure what possessed you to ask. it could be that you’re heartbroken from finding out your now ex cheated on you. or it could be that you just needed a break from real life in general.
you think being with reo can do that for you.
beside you, in the car, he’s on a call with his father, who by the looks of it seems like he’s finally letting reo do whatever he wants as long as he tries to have a hand in the family business.
“so, are you ever going to tell me where we’re going?” you ask right after he hangs up the phone.
reo turns to you and smirks, “and ruin the surprise? nah.”
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when you land, they redirect you to a helicopter, and you look at reo dubiously.
“trust me, you’ll love it,” he tells you, and who are you to not trust him?
reo insists on covering your eyes even as you step off the helicopter an hour later. you can smell the soap lingering on his palms as he leads you safely down the steps and onto solid ground after the hours of flying.
“reo, come on, i wanna know where we are already,” you mumble, excited and shuffling your feet.
his body is pressed right up against your back, so close that you can feel how fast his heart is beating and you’re wondering why. his arms are around your head, both being used to cover your field of vision.
“okay okay, princess,” he gives in, and somehow that nickname makes you feel giddy. it’s the first time he’s called you anything other than your name.
you turn around right at the moment he pulls his hand away and you’re immediately met with his face right in front of yours, his purple eyes shifting from the view to you, his hair flying over his eyes even though he has it tied.
you wonder what he’s thinking now as he looks at you. it feels different than however he did before. this feels different. seven years of friendship, and this is the first time you’re hit with questions in your head.
“i’m flattered you think i’m the view, but it’s behind you, dummy,” reo recovers, gently tilting your head away and onto the other breathtaking view.
you’re at the top of a cliff, the sunlight hitting the scenery before you at all the right places. there’s a beach at the bottom, with clear blue waters lapping on the shore. you can see some man-made structures there, but you can’t really make out what they are. you think maybe they’re phototaking spots for tourists.
when reo takes his place beside you, taking in the view, you remember to ask, “reo, where are we?” you’re out of breath, and understandably so. you’ve never been here before—it looks right out of a travel magazine.
reo grins at you, “an island off the coast of bali. nice, right?”
“yeah,” you’re short on words really. you expected to go to hokkaido, maybe. somewhere else in japan. yet here you are, somewhere off the coast of a beach, standing on a cliff with an amazing view standing next to your best friend.
but then you remember something and look around. there’s signs, there’s what looks like a restaurant at the bottom, near the edge of the beach, and from what you hear, bali is a hot tourist destination. so why—
“reo, why isn’t there anybody else here?”
he blinks at you like you should already know the answer. “i bought the entire day here, no one else but us.”
the way he says this so casually makes you realise you’re worlds apart, but somehow, reo makes you feel like you’re not.
sure, your ex broke your heart two months ago and you still can’t get over it. you’d tried to ignore everything, get over it quietly, but it didn’t work. instead you mope everyday in silence and act like you’re okay in front of everyone. well, everyone who buys it.
everyone except reo.
you remember the way he cancelled international meetings and rushed to your house the moment you called him, crying. you remember how he came armed with your favourite snacks and made sure you ate so he cooked for you. you remember how he put you first, no matter how busy he was.
maybe it was the long-standing friendship. maybe it was the fact that you always had your eye on someone else. maybe it was because of those that you never really thought to see that maybe all you needed to do was open your eyes.
because it sends a shiver through your spine right now, with how reo effortlessly takes your hand in his, leads you down the path, says he’s going to take you on the best hike of your life.
“what if i get tired halfway?”
reo doesn’t miss a beat, “then i’ll carry you, princess.” he says that in a teasing way, but you still like it.
the same way you like when he makes sure to hold your hand at the particularly rocky areas, makes sure you don’t fall—or that he’d catch you even if you did.
his white shirt is unbuttoned down to his chest, and his round black sunglasses frame his face nicely. he’s handsome—you’ve always known that, so why does your heart skip a beat when you feel his body heat against you, pulling you close so you don’t trip?
“what are we ordering?” you ask, after climbing down the entire cliff (which took two whole hours—you’re parched).
reo stretches and cracks his knuckles, “i’ll order, i know what you like anyway.”
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it’s only been the first day and you’re already overwhelmed, in a good way.
reo takes you around the beach, insists on helping you take pictures, makes sure he gets the best angles, makes sure you get perfect lighting. it’s a first for you, seeing first hand how easy it is to be around someone who really knows you.
there’s things reo knows about you that you never realised he noticed.
like how you often forget your hair ties, so he carries extras on himself. or how you like prawns but you don’t eat them because you’re too lazy to peel the skin off, but that’s exactly why he peels them for you without you having to ask.
there’s many more things he noticed, but you suppose it’s the same case for nagi, so you guess you shouldn’t get your hopes up.
but it’s tough.
it’s tough when he’s not like how he usually is. it’s tough when he suddenly likes to stick close to you, likes to let you feel how built he is and how strong he’s become since the guy you met at seventeen. it’s tough when he gets bold enough to tease you for staring, it’s tough when he purposely posts pics for people following you to see—one of which being the guy who broke your heart.
“come on, another one- one more,” reo insists, stealing your phone from your hand and trying to snap a picture of you against the scenery, the oceans below you split into two by the hills. “don’t you want him to suffer for what he did to you?”
reo phrases it like he’s joking, but you can sense his honest question behind it. he’s never really talked to you about it, seeing how you immediately broke down whenever he had tried, but he’s trying again now, and you don’t really want to reject his efforts.
a part of you wanted to just forget your stupid ex, to just be able to live as though he’d never hurt you. but did you want him to regret not choosing you? want him to keel over from jealousy?
yeah, kinda.
“i doubt he’ll even care, though.”
reo gets a shit-eating smirk on his face, and you hear the gears turning in his head. “wanna see him care?”
before you know it, reo’s walking over to stand next to you, and when you think he’s just going to take a regular photo with you, his hands around your shoulders, he moves his fingers to your neck and kisses the side of your face, right next to your ear, and you hear the shutter going off.
he pulls away like nothing unusual has happened, turning his attention straight to your phone and posting the story. meanwhile, you’re frozen in shock—not sure what you should even feel in this situation.
but maybe you should’ve opened your eyes a little bit wider, then maybe you would’ve noticed reo’s ears going beet red, maybe you would’ve been able to tell that he’s just as flustered as you are, the sensation lingering against his lips.
reo takes a peek at you out of the corner of his eyes and wonders: will you ever realise how he feels for you all this time?
it’s actually quite a wonder how after seven years of being just friends that this is the first window of opportunity he gets to chase you, to show you that you can do better than those wackos you dated.
it’s also quite miraculous how you almost exclusively date guys who would just hurt you.
maybe now’s the right time for him to make his move. it could be the only chance he gets to properly spend with you, just the both of you, considering how the both of you are so busy otherwise—you studying with a part time job while he’s busy with the same thing except with mikage corp.
if he misses his shot, reo has a feeling that this would be it; this would be all you and him would ever be. friends who are just as familiar no matter how long they spent apart. friends who love each other and ask to go on platonic trips. friends who keep their feelings hidden because reo knows you feel something too, don’t you?
his gut feelings are mostly accurate, he hopes it is now too.
because fuck if he doesn’t realise the way your eyes glimmer when you’re looking at the sea, or the way you reach out to him (with that slightly shy smile you try to hide) when you’re excitedly hopping from place to place, or even how whenever you lock gazes with him, there’s that split second of confusion lingering.
yeah, reo would either fuck this up badly or it would work wonderfully.
out of everything he’s been given—material, money, status, power—he’s never wanted any. it’s a huge bonus, sure, but it’s not like he can’t live without an unlimited supply of money. there’s a certain thrill in trying to attain something that can’t be bought over. but there’s also a certain thrill in knowing that you never expected anything from him; you didn’t befriend him for anything except than the fact that you were a shy teenage girl who got seated next to him in class.
as he looks at you happily traipsing across the sand, wind in your hair and feet sinking under the water, reo finds that maybe in this world, you’re all he wants.
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“did you book out an entire resort too?”
reo laughs at your skepticism. “nah, that would be creepy, a whole resort to ourselves? it’s like a serial killer movie waiting to happen.” because he knows you’re so into those kind of movies but in real life you’re basically a pussy. he remembers you clinging onto him and nagi that one time you went to a haunted house for halloween.
he did get you adjoining rooms though. he was heavily considering just getting a single room with twin beds but reo didn’t want to completely blow his chances by scaring you away.
and reo leaves you alone in your room that night, because you’re both tired out from the long day earlier, and because he has a lot planned tomorrow—you’re a huge foodie so he already found tons of places you could go together, and maybe a massage, maybe you’d like that.
reo’s looking at the itinerary in his phone when he hears you sobbing through the walls. it takes him five seconds to rush over, barely knocking on the adjoining door before he opens it, finding you curled up on the bed, crying.
“hey, what happened?”
worry fills his chest quicker than he’s ever known he could feel, and he hates seeing you like this—puffy eyes and hair matted from tears. what the fuck could even happen in the time span of a few hours?
you’re cozy under the blanket, but you take your hands out and pass him your phone—a myriad of texts from your ex, accusing you of cheating with reo and blaming the breakup on you.
which is ridiculous, because if anyone at all cheated, it was this bastard. after all, reo was the one who ran into him with his side piece and sent you the evidence. this fucker is even more fucked up than he thought.
“you should just block him already,” reo sighs, handing it back to you.
“yeah, maybe,” you mumble, tossing your phone to the side.
usually, you just wanted to be alone, especially in this state. so that’s what reo figures he should do, so he tells you he’ll leave you alone first while he gets some dinner, but then you grab his wrist before he can go, and you’re averting your gaze.
“don’t go?”
are you asking? you sound scared. why would you be scared though? reo’s always been there for you, even when he shouldn’t be. he’s always ditched meetings for you, told people off for you, done anything he could just so you’d be happy.
when reo doesn’t move, you scoot over and reo feels a certain yearning bubbling in his chest. fuck, you’re really getting his hopes up but reo’s already established you as the person he wouldn’t mind getting screwed over by so he gets in your bed, letting you lay your head in the crook of his neck as his arm wraps around you.
he hopes you don’t hear his heart banging love songs into his chest.
“thanks, reo,” you mumble. at least you aren’t bawling anymore.
he sighs, “stupid, i’m your friend, that’s what friends are for.”
you chuckle, sniffling a little, “yeah, you treat me way better than those shitty boyfriends of mine.”
your hair’s tickling his face, your body’s pressed up against his side, you smell so fucking good. why are you so perfect? reo’s about to lose it.
“then what’s wrong with me?”
it slips out. just slides off his tongue because he’s tired of seeing you with other people. he’s tired of not being able to call you his. he’s tired of having to pretend like he doesn’t have the hugest fucking crush on his best friend.
he can feel you stiffen up beside him. fuck, he’s just made this so awkward, hasn’t he?
but you answer anyway, “nothing, you’re perfect.”
reo pulls the hair away from your face, his hand resting on your cheeks, and how is it possible for you to still look this pretty after crying? he feels a certain protectiveness building inside of him, that your answer means something and he needs to do something about it or forever hold his peace.
“then choose me,” reo tells you, and the both of you are lying on the bed, staring at each other in disbelief. reo can’t believe that now he’s the closest he’s been to all he ever wanted. (you can’t believe that someone like reo would ever want someone like you.)
maybe it’s the way he’s trembling at the notion that you might reject him, or maybe it’s the way that he feels your lips are begging for attention, but he kisses you, hands gentle on your face, tongue gentle against yours. and you’re kissing back, you’re testing his patience and reo doesn’t know how long he can hold out.
“i’ve been- so- in love with you- for so fucking long,” he says in between kisses, making your heart flutter. “you have no idea.”
(he’s saying all this to you, and making you giddy and you feel like you’ve been so stupid all this time, constantly looking in all the wrong places when love has been by your side for seven whole years. seven years that you failed to see. seven years’ worth of time that you want to take back. starting now.)
reo’s kissing you and he doesn’t want to stop. you’re addictive, and god he hates that he has common sense in his head. he hates that he has to stop at one point because he’s not about to go too quick too soon.
he’s hovering over you, now, your bodies pressed together and you’re inviting him, your hands wrapped around his neck. he wants to live in your arms forever. fuck everything else, you come first. and shit he feels how much he wants you so he has to pull away, forces himself off and lays down beside you instead, the both of you lying with kiss-swollen lips.
seven years he’s waited; ever since you first had that crush on his best friend, ever since the first guy that broke your heart, ever since the day he met you and knew that there’s a chance something was there.
“starting tomorrow, i’m gonna make you love me,” he declares, still a little out of breath.
the both of you stare into each other’s eyes again, and you believe the conviction in his eyes. he’s not going to quit until he makes you his.
which is fine.
because you think you already are.
out of all the choices you’ve made regarding boys, you think you’re finally making the right one.
so you smile and give him one more kiss, slow and languid and everything he wants, “i think i already do, mikage reo.”
that’s the moment when reo realises he’s fucked, screwed in the best way possible because you’re about to take over his life—and somehow, he’d take you over anything else any day. he’ll give you everything of his, everything he has, everything he is.
he grins at you, “stupid, making me wait for so long. you’re fucking mine.”
and you nod. like you always have. like you always will be.
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gh-0-stcup · 3 months
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There is no way Armand turned Daniel "out of spite". If that is legitimately the way they're going with this, it would be a massive betrayal of the character. And completely unnecessary for pointless reasons - Armand is packed with flaws to explore and horrify audiences with. The character is almost entirely a collection of flaws and psychoses wrapped in the skin of a gorgeous boy.
Armand has approximately one (1) strong, genuine moral belief that remains consistent throughout the series. Turning somebody into a vampire should never be done. The very existence of vampires is a mistake, an aberration, something that never should have happened in the first place. It can only bring misery - to the world, to the vampire that is turned, and to the maker.
For 500 years of a deeply lonely, painful existence Armand holds strong on this. Daniel is the single exception. The pressure it takes for Armand to do this is immense. He falls in love, builds a life with this mortal. His love begs him and leaves him over and over and over because Armand will not do it.
Through vicious fights and Daniel's increasingly severe alcoholism, Armand holds strong. They have been broken up for six months at the start of their chapter because of this. Daniel left Armand and Armand let him go, because if the requirement for their relationship to continue is for Armand to turn Daniel - Armand will not do it.
Armand, whose main personality trait is toxic codependency, would rather be alone than turn his lover into a vampire.
When Armand turns Daniel, Akasha has awoken and vampires are dying en masse with little to no warning. Everybody is dying, nobody knows how or why or what they can do to protect themselves. Armand is terrified. Lestat's concert is about to happen and everybody seems to have a deep sense of doom about it.
Combined with this, Daniel's self destructive behaviours have forced a collision between Armand's two biggest feelings towards Daniel - I would rather die than watch you die. I would rather die than turn you.
Daniel's alcoholism has put him in a terrible state. He's unable to function to such a degree that he's been kicked out of his hotel, lost his passport and wallet, hasn't eaten in days, and is in the midst of a dangerous withdrawal. All he can figure out to do is to call out mentally for help from Armand.
So Armand, in the midst of a vampire apocalypse and preparing for a doomed concert, has presumably been hearing the desperate pleas of his lover and trying to find him for at least a full day. His lover who has been too out of it to say where he is, who has travelled across several countries in different continents that week.
And when Armand does find Daniel, Daniel is dying. Armand has to sit there, on a plane taking them to a concent he is likely to die at, and watch his lover's body slowly shut down. To make it even more intense, Daniel states that he will continue to throw away his life and destroy his body if Armand does not turn him. Daniel would rather die than live as a mortal.
Seeing Daniel die would be Hell for Armand. Turning Daniel would be Hell for Armand. So, Armand chooses the Hell that has them both in it together.
This was not a moment of insanity. It was twelve years of love and pain and Daniel fighting for it. Armand hated that he had to do this. Hated it before, during, and after. It ended up destroying their relationship for many years.
The dissolution of his relationship with Louis is simply not anywhere near the same level, imo. The blatant charade of a relationship that is openly devoid of love and is a tool of punishment for their mutual ex (and each other)? A partner Armand tried to kill back when their relationship was genuine? Spite for that ending is what motivates Armand to violate the moral he holds sacred?
No. No, I'm sorry but that is less believable than the vampire Sam holding Armand hostage.
What exactly does turning Daniel accomplish in this scenario? It doesn't hurt Daniel, he's happier than ever at the end. It doesn't hurt Louis, it gives him an immortal bestie to telepathically chat with. It's not even really self punishment - Armand isn't destroying the humanity of someone he loves and he doesn't have to watch the consequences.
Either the show's writing has taken a sudden, unexpected nosedive or something is intentionally funky here.
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louisupdates · 1 month
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Louis Tomlinson - does it ring with this name? As a singer of the British boy group One Direction, he was successful in the years 2010-2015. Together, the band decided to take a break. It has remained so to this day. In 2016, however, Louis began to take his own path. On his solo paths, the singer-songwriter has developed a style that takes up influences from British rock, alternative and indie pop. His music is often melodic, with catchy guitar riffs and a rather down-to-earth sound reminiscent of British bands of the 2000s. Already his first single Just Hold On sold 1.8 million copies. In 2020 and 2022, he released his two albums Walls and Faith In The Future. This was followed by two incredible world tours with over 170 concerts in 47 countries on 5 continents.
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For this, an idea matured - a live album should be created, but a very special one. Thus, individual songs were recorded during the tour. On the 25th In April, the result was surprisingly published digitally. 14 songs have been released. Each of them was recorded in a different city. So the listener at home can also mentally go on a small trip around the world while enjoying the individual songs. Now the physical versions of the live album also followed, which make the concert feeling in the living room perfect. These include four more, exclusive tracks. In addition to the double CD, a double picture vinyl edition is available and it has it all!
The vinyl edition contains a special tour book. Fans were able to submit personal impressions about their concert experiences. And these are now included in this extra booklet. Louis decorated the recordings with individual hearts, smileys or crosses and handwritten the first names of the respective fans. This recorded, mutual appreciation is truly a magical highlight. The 28-page, regular booklet is no less lovingly designed. In addition to the lyrics, you will encounter the London set list, high-quality backstage photos and touching recordings made during the concerts.
Louis is happy about this release: "I have been lucky enough to tour the world twice in the last 3 years. The feeling I get when sharing these live moments will accompany me forever. The opportunity to record these songs anywhere in the world and release them as an album is something very special and a real tribute to the fans, who make every single show a unique and incredible experience. Thank you! Enjoy!"
Right at the opener The Greatest, you seem to be in the middle of the action with your eyes closed. In addition to the live sound, the fans can also be heard clearly. Louis invites them to tune in with him: "Sing it with me!" And they do! The spirited mood comes across clearly. In the meantime, the fans also get the space to sing alone. You get used to the choruses and the delighted shouts from the audience very quickly. In Bigger Than Me, the British singer gives space for personal growth and self-reflection. In the song, Louis describes how he deals with the changes in his life and realizes that life is bigger than himself. He talks about taking responsibility for his actions and decisions, especially with regard to his career and the people who support him. The song contains a powerful perspective on growing up and taking responsibility.
Holding On To Heartache puts the fans in great excitement. screams welcome the gentle song. This is about how difficult it is to let go of the pain after a breakup. It's about holding on to grief because it's connected with the memories of lost love, and it's not easy to finally finish with the past. The single We Made It is powerful. In the booklet, the single was translated into Filipino - after all, the recording comes from the concert in the Philippines. Although Louis sings the title in English, this hidden greeting is really adorable. By the way, this approach can be found several times in the booklet. For example, All This Time/She Is Beauty We Are World Class, the titles played in Munich, were also translated into German, for example.
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High In California, for example, can only be found on the physical editions of the album. This lightness that the song contains is clearly noticeable. This is about escaping everyday life and getting lost in a state of freedom and lightheartedness. The lifestyle and atmosphere of California make you forget your worries and problems for a moment - just as is the case with Louis' concerts. Here you feel protected and can escape all negative thoughts.
Common People is about the appreciation of ordinary people and their experiences. The song deals with life in everyday life and how important it is to connect with the "ordinary" people and understand their perspectives. Challenges and struggles that many people experience should be taken seriously instead of romanticizing them. It is his tribute to the authenticity and reality of life. It therefore becomes gently rocking with All This Time/She Is Beauty We Are World Class. Here you rock with real fun from the sofa. The groovy guitars do the rest:
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In Walls, delicate strings underline the song about emotional barriers and the struggle to show themselves vulnerable. Louis addresses the need to dismantle one's own walls in order to enable real connections with other people. It is an honest and personal song about vulnerability, love and the desire for closeness, despite the difficulties that can be associated with it. Louis calls on his fans: "Here we go! Scream" and together the fans sing with their idol: "But these high walls, they came up short. Now I stand taller than them all. These high walls never broke my soul. And I, I watched them all come fallin' down. I watched them all come fallin' down for you."
Out Of My System is then reached harder into the guitar strings. The drums are also picking up speed. With the fast track, the good mood is at a peak. This is about the internal conflicts and the difficulties of freeing yourself from the emotional burdens, while at the same time trying to find yourself and your identity. Overall, it is an energetic track about the process of leaving the past behind and starting over. In Paris, Louis is impressed by his crowd: "This looks fucking amazing!" With a warm voice, he performs Saturdays - a song that clearly reminds you of Oasis.
Silver Tongues is accompanied by a lively piano playing and you can really imagine how the euphoric fans on site shine with shere joy and rock them together again. "Krakow, you have been absolutety incredible tonight. Thank you, thank you, thank you! Sing this next one with me, here we go... as loud as you can!” And the crowd settles in: "You and me until the end. Wakin' up to start again. You and me until the end. Wakin' up to start again. There's nowhere else that I would rather be."
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The record ends with Kill My Mind from Santiano. Louis sings of a roller coaster of emotions in a passionate, but also chaotic relationship. It's about the challenge of letting yourself be overwhelmed by the feelings and the inner struggle that arises when you are trapped in a relationship that is both exciting and stressful.
Louis Tomlinson and his crew have succeeded in a truly remarkable work. What is actually the advantage of a live album? You are not terribly sweaty, the way home is not imminent and you do not fall into the aftershow blues like a real gig afterwards, but can simply start all over again. 🙂
Louis Tomlinson's album Live was released on 23.08.2024 as a CD and vinyl via the label BMG.
Tracklist LOUIS TOMLINSON - Live (Vinyl Edition)
A
01. The Greatest - Live from London, 17.11.2023
02. Face The Music - Live from Nashville, 07/18/2023
03. Bigger Than Me - Live from Vancouver, 26.06.2023
04. Holding On To Heartache - Live from Barcelona, 06.10.2023
05. We Made It - Live from Manila, 16.07.2022
B
06. Chicago - Live from Chicago, 15.06.2023
07. High In California , Live from Amsterdam, 15.10.2023
08. Fearless, Live from Rio, 27.05.2022
09. Common People, Live from Sheffield, 10.11.2023
C
10. All This Time/She Is Beauty We Are World Class, Live from Munich, 22.10.2023
11. Walls, Live from Buenos Aires, 21.05.2022
12. Only The Brave, Live from Milan, 03.09.2022
13. Written All Over Your Face, Live from Budapest, 15.09.2023
D
14. Out Of My System, Live from Brisbane, 30.01.2024
15. Saturdays, Live from Paris, 14.10.2023
16. Silver Tongues, Live from Krakow, 10.09.2023
17. Kill My Mind, Live from Santiago, 15.05.2022
Tracklist LOUIS TOMLINSON - Live (2CD Edition)
Disk 1
01. The Greatest, Live from London, 17.11.2023
02. Face The Music - Live from Nashville, 07/18/2023
03. Bigger Than Me - Live from Vancouver, 26.06.2023
04. Holding On To Heartache - Live from Barcelona, 06.10.2023
05. We Made It - Live from Manila, 16.07.2022
06. Chicago - Live from Chicago, 15.06.2023
07. High In California , Live from Amsterdam, 15.10.2023
08. Fearless, Live from Rio, 27.05.2022
09. Common People, Live from Sheffield, 10.11.2023
Disk 2
01. All This Time/She Is Beauty We Are World Class, Live from Munich, 22.10.2023
02. Walls, Live from Buenos Aires, 21.05.2022
03. Written All Over Your Face, Live from Budapest, 15.09.2023
04. Out Of My System, Live from Brisbane, 30.01.2024
05. Saturdays, Live from Paris, 14.10.2023
06. Where Do Broken Hearts Go, Live from Tallinn, 05.09.2023
07. Silver Tongues, Live from Krakow, 10.09.2023
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tarotwithavi · 2 years
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The destined one for you
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
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**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
1-2-3
How to pick a pile? : close your eyes and take a deep breath. Ask your guides to show you the right pile for you and then open your eyes. The first pile that catches your attention is your pile.
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Masterlist
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
Pile 1
Your destined one is someone who likes to have things their own way. They have a very bossy energy around them and likes to use authority. They might have a somewhat scary looking resting face but is nice when you get to know them . They are a family oriented person and always put their family before anything else and would do anything for their family. They might have one or two pet dogs. They are always ready to fight others who insult them or their family. Probably an earth sign. They might have Aquarius or Capricorn as their rising. They don't like when people try to put them down and won't ever let people tell them what to do. They have a very unique way of talking , like once you get comfortable with them or they get comfortable with you, they'll make you laugh even at the smallest things. It's like the way they talk is very funny and the words they use. They are like a complete child with the people they love and always need attention from them. Lol that's cute. And also they are very very possessive. They don't like when people take what's theirs. It's okay as long as they don't see you as their property. 
Messages that might resonate : counterparts, city life, a white dog, right handed or their hands are very beautiful, a little older than you, dark skinned /tanned, athletic and adventurous, number 3 or March month.
Masterlist
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
Pile 2
Alright! So what I'm getting is that they are into the occult or a very spiritual person. They have a lot of knowledge about various things and are always curious. I'm getting that they might be from a different place than you. Like a different state, city or even country or continent lol. They are also very cunning and can be manipulative when needed. Though they might have confidence problems or just in need of a trustworthy person. They have a hard time trusting people. I'm getting that you might meet them in a hospital or a place for treating people. Could be a public place for some. They are a workaholic or just have a lot of burden on them. They might be the only child and if  not them the oldest child in their family. They try to come off as reserved and cold hearted but on the inside they're very emotional. But not overly emotional . I'm getting that they'll definitely pamper you a lot and they also need a lot of pampering. They need like , NEED words or encouragement like "you're doing great " and "I'm proud of you". They are also very attractive and might be very popular. They have a lot of energy 💀 like always running, doing something weird with you. 
Messages that might resonate : Pisces, Leo, Taurus, moon 🌙 , B, J, E, L, U, R , hard exterior soft interior, gold, a lot of yellow, blue and vertebrates 
Masterlist
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
Pile 3 
Alright, so first thing first they are very hardworking. They might come from a poor family but they have worked very hard to achieve what they have right now. They don't like asking people for help and have a hard time believing that they can't always be in the first place. They are also very artistic like they could sing, draw, paint or do something creative. They like spending their time alone. And simply they don't care about their surroundings like the world could be collapsing but They wouldn't give a fuck ( sorry for cussing) . They can stay calm even in a chaotic situation. They like doing a lot of things at once . They don't like inequality and are very law abiding. They always treat people equally and don't like when people discriminate or judge others. They can speak a lot of languages and know about a lot of things. This is definitely a Soulmate / twinflame relationship. You two mirror each other and can have a lot of things in common. Even right now as I'm describing them you can feel like I'm describing you. Also they require a lot of rest as they are always tired. And I'm also getting that some of you are going to meet them soon. Like in the next month. You can meet them near a lake, river or on the beach. Somewhere there is a lot of water. 
Messages that might resonate : Sagittarius, 222 , disquiet, security, fire sign and air sign, cyan / blue, church, red clothes, a fish , pink palms, dove. 
Masterlist
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
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Please ignore if you see any possible typos :)
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shepherds-of-haven · 4 months
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hi i hope you're having a good day! this may be quite silly but i'm curious, what are some typical dances for the peoples of blest?
Hi there! This was actually sent in for the Patreon Q&A in April, but something horrible has happened to Patreon's site in the last several months, where after a certain amount of text, the text editor becomes horrifically laggy and crashes constantly, meaning I did all the work (i.e. watching so many medieval and ancient dancing videos and reading all about various cultures and their dances) to answer this question, but the website stubbornly would not let me type up my answer in the existing Q&A post... 🥹 So I kept losing all my progress on this one and ultimately ended up giving up, but I still wanted to answer it, so I hope it's okay that I answer here!
The short answer: the typical dances for the people of Blest obviously are going to vary widely between cultures as well as classes within those cultures. People from the southern isles dance quite differently from people in the Eastern Continent, who in turn dance differently from people in Jalis. I'm not going to cover too much of the kinds of dancing that we don't see much of in the game, though I will note that Ket and Hunter cultures tend to favor dancing more as a form of story-telling or individual expression (often seen in plays or festival rituals where specialized dancers are playing specific roles or parts), with elaborate costumes and dance techniques being employed in each culture (some traditional Ket dancers use fans and masks, Hunter dancers often dress in swirling costumes with rattling beads and employ hand-drums), rather than the communal dancing we might envision in, like, ballrooms or barnyard line-dancing. The Elves have a mix of both, with dance as "performance" as well as dance as "socializing" utilized in equal measure, and performative dancing is seen as a high art form that deeply utilizes perfectly synchronized music, color coordination, and movement to create mesmerizing group displays, almost like synchronized swimming or Cirque de Soleil type experiences. Mage culture, in general, doesn't put a lot of emphasis on dancing, as many Mages tend to trend introverted, solitary, or unathletic, so as a society it's not viewed as a really vital skill or even a part of their larger culture outside of the usual school/festival dancing, which isn't so much taught as it is just stumbled into.
Anyway, the two primary forms of dancing we seen in the game are what the nobles do and what the commonfolk do. I imagine dancing among aristocrats (formal balls, the Trade Minister's gala, parties at the Sun Court) to be pretty similar to what you'd see in Regency-Era dancing, with waltzes, quadrilles, and cotillons being the most common style.
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However, it should be noted that the "English country dance" that was typical of the Regency era (where men and women form two lines, facing across from their partner, and are not permitted to dance alone as a couple, but side-by-side alongside others) is not something that is present in Blest. If you've seen any Austenian movies like P&P 2005, you know what I mean.
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^ So not this!
It may factor into a dance a noble has to do once or twice in their lifetime, but it's pretty unusual, and a guest without a noble background (like Riel or the Shepherds at the Trade Minister's gala) wouldn't be expected to know it.
Among the commonfolk, dancing typically takes place during festivals and holidays, in the streets or on the village green or town square, not within a formal venue such as a ball. As such, there are really no formal moves or styles ascribed to this kind of dancing--it's primarily dictated by what kind of music is playing, and you basically just jam out to it however you want, in a group, couple, or as an individual--but the closest real-world equivalents I could liken it to would be the medieval carole or free-style polka. But there are no formalized rules other than basic proprietary/decency, and even then that can be pretty lax once the drink is flowing.
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However, while I don't have any formal name for it, mostly I just imagine the dance scene from A Knight's Tale. :)
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wheels-of-despair · 29 days
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Under Pressure | Eric x You vs. The Apocalypse | Series Masterlist
Chapter Eight: Deleted Scenes Summary: Someone may have forgotten to mention a few things... Words: 2.8k
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One Month After Meeting Eric
"I want to invite your brother over for Thanksgiving."
You see Evan tense out of the corner of your eye. He's putting the finishing touches on a pasta dish he's about to bake. You're washing vegetables for a salad. It's the very picture of domestic bliss.
"Why?" he asks without looking at you.
"Because he's your brother, and he lives ten minutes away, and he doesn't have any other family on this continent. Letting him spend Thanksgiving alone would be a crime."
He heaves a sigh.
"Why do you hate him so much?" you ask.
"I don't hate him," he says quickly, sticking the pan in the oven and letting the door slam shut. He walks to the table and drops into a chair, putting his head in his hands. The salad can wait. You abandon the vegetables and silently sink into the chair across from him. "I just… we have nothing in common."
"You don't even know him," you remind him. "You only saw each other on holidays, right?"
"Yeah," he sighs, leaning back in his chair. Boarding school. His father had shipped all of his sons off to boarding school as soon as they were able to feed themselves. As children, they saw each other on Christmas and over the summer, where the older ones delighted in tormenting the smaller ones. Especially the one you married. Which is why he fled the country at the first available opportunity.
You cross your arms and lean forward. You've been eager to know the whole story since the night you met Eric, but have been afraid to ask. Evan doesn't like talking about his family, but this is driving you crazy. He looks at you with pleading eyes… and sighs.
"Is this the part where you huff and you puff and you try to blow your way out of this conversation?" you tease.
He chuckles, and you reach across the table for his hands. He takes them.
"The only time my older brothers ever included me in anything is when we were taking the piss out of Eric."
Your heart sinks.
"Don't look at me like that," he begs. "He did it to me too. We were the youngest. The weaklings. We were practically interchangeable."
"And it never occurred to you two to join forces?"
His eyes narrow, and he pulls his hands away to cross his arms.
"They would've killed us both," he drawls. "Literally."
"They're not here," you remind him. "And neither is your old man. It's just you, and the other brother who spent his entire childhood getting bullied. Do you really think it's a coincidence that out of everywhere in the world, millions of different cities all over the globe, that he chose to go to law school here? Mere minutes away from you?"
"Father probably chose for him," he scoffs. "Consolidate the disappointments. Dash the spirits of two pathetic birds with one yearly visit from the stone."
"Shut up," you say lightly. "He's here, he's alone, and I want him to come spend Thanksgiving with us. Will you at least consider it? Just this once? For me?"
He gives you a hard stare. You bat your eyelashes flirtatiously. His cheeks twitch as he attempts to conceal a smile. You poke out your bottom lip, clasp your hands, and bring them to your chin for a proper beg.
"Oh, alright," he laughs, "but only for you."
"Was that so hard?" you tease.
"That salad's not going to make itself," he gripes.
You laugh and toss a kitchen towel at him when you get up and return to the sink.
Eric's coming for Thanksgiving.
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Two Seconds After Thanksgiving
The door is barely closed when you start missing your new friend. Eric's visit went so much better than you expected.
"Did you just invite him over for Christmas?" Evan asks from the couch, lying on his back with his hands laced behind his head.
"I may have," you admit guiltily.
"Ughhhhhh," he groans, covering his face with his hands.
"Oh, come on," you laugh, locking the door and going to him. You crawl onto the couch and settle yourself between him and the back cushions, resting your head on his chest and an arm around his waist. "You had fun."
"Yeah," he admits, wrapping an arm around you. "It wasn't terrible. But we don't need to make it a thing."
"He's your brother, dammit," you argue, poking him lightly in the belly. He grunts. "That is the thing."
"Why are you so attached to him?" he asks.
You have to think about it for a moment.
"He's easy to get along with," you shrug. "He's sweet, and he's funny. Your relationship, or lack thereof, fascinates me. And the hold that your old man has over him is devastating. He's just this adorable little brown-eyed ball of anxiety, all alone in the big scary city. Sound familiar?" Silence. "That's what I thought. Can you blame me for wanting to look after him?"
Evan lets out a long sigh. "No," he admits.
"Good," you say quietly, a grin growing on your face. "'Cause he's coming for Christmas. Deal with it."
Evan retaliates with a tickle attack on your ribs, and you laugh and writhe and flail against him. When you finally get his hands pinned, in a truly impressive self-defense maneuver, you're straddling his waist.
"I love you," you say fondly.
"I love you, too," he smiles.
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Three Minutes 'til Christmas Eve
"God, I thought Peter would never leave," Evan complains as he flips the bedroom light switch off. "Take a hint, man!"
"So glad that's over," you yawn, exhausted from the Christmas party you'd thrown together. Evan crawls into bed next to you.
"My brother followed you around like a little lost puppy all night," he smirks.
"The poor kid was so nervous," you sigh. "I may have undersold the crowd when I invited him to the party."
"But you both survived," he notes.
"Mhm," you hum.
"At least you'll have each other while I'm away."
You've been working so hard to avoid thinking about the fact that your other half is leaving for an entire year, the reminder almost comes as a shock. You barely remember what your life was like before he came into it. What the hell are you supposed to do without him?
A moment of silence passes.
"What are you thinking about?"
"Our first date," you smile at the ceiling.
"Oh, God," he laughs, shaking the bed. "I was in such a panic, I would've taken anyone with me."
"Wow, that means a lot to me, thank you so much," you deadpan, rolling away from him to face the wall.
"You know what I mean," he purrs, sliding an arm around your waist and holding you from behind. "I'm so glad it was you."
"Me too," you admit, reaching for his hand. "Your old man never knew what hit him."
"I've always suspected that you might've hit him if he'd kept on that night," he laughs.
"I would have," you confirm. "Nobody talks about my best friend like that."
He sighs into your hair and gives your hand a squeeze.
"How do you remember it?" he asks.
"Fondly."
"Details," he presses.
"Are you asking me for a bedtime story?" you grin.
"Yes," he mumbles, shifting to get comfortable under the blankets but not letting you go. "Proceed."
"Once upon a time," you laugh, "there was a handsome but insecure Englishman living in the big city. He was a great doctor, but he never had much luck in the romance department, so he developed this really sleazy habit of hiring beautiful women with no personalities to be his fake girlfriends when his father came to town. One day, he ran out of supermodels and was on the verge of a nervous breakdown, so his entirely average best friend came to the rescue, and he had to settle for pretending to date her instead. She'd heard so many horrifying stories about what a bastard his old man was, so she came ready for a fight. They met him for dinner at a smoky shithole with really good bread, and every time that old man said something mean, she'd say something meaner. And just when she thought they were going to throw down and have a knife-fight in Soho, he laughed. 'Keep this one,' the old man said, rendering everyone speechless. And so the handsome Englishman asked for his best friend's hand each time the old man visited, and they were such a great pair, the ancient fuck never suspected a thing. The End."
"More," he groans.
"You asked for the story of our first date," you chuckle. "And I told it masterfully."
"Keep going," he whines.
"Alright, alright," you relent, pausing to plan where your story should go next. "The handsome Englishman and his entirely average best friend loved their little game so much, they started doing other things together, too. They went to museums and plays and pretentious art galleries, and she happily listened to him ramble for hours afterward. She loved spending time with him so much, she barely cried when her girlfriend of several years dumped her. Because the handsome Englishman welcomed her into his home with open arms. They cohabitated happily as the best of friends, until some ugly troll whose anti-troll procedure didn't take threatened him with a lawsuit and possible deportation. He was terrified of being sent back to England, with the rest of his awful and notably less handsome family. She was sick of friends and coworkers trying to set her up with total losers. So one day, they took a little road trip to admire the fall foliage and pick apples, and came home married. And they lived happily ever after, rotting their brains with trashy reality television and then trying to make up for it with documentaries and museum visits."
"Hm…" he hums. "Not bad. But I really think you're understating the handsomeness of this gloriously attractive Englishman."
"So sorry," you smile. "I'll do better next time."
He chuckles and kisses your shoulder.
"G'night, love."
"G'night."
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Four Days After Eric's Birthday
"I've met someone."
"You're in an entirely new city," you joke, "I'm sure you've met lots of someone's."
"You're very funny, darling," Evan drawls over the phone. "But this one… this one's different."
You feel your heart sink through the floor… and several below it, then plummet into the earth. You knew this was going to happen. Your other half has been chosen for a year-long fellowship in Los Angeles, and instead of learning whatever the hell he went there to learn and coming straight back home to you... he's fallen in love.
You're allowed to see other people. Encouraged to, even. You just... stopped bothering after a while, when you realized that the best part of any date was coming home and complaining about it together. You thought he felt the same, since he'd never been out more with the same person more than once since your wedding.
"He reminds me a lot of you, actually."
Why does that make it so much worse? You reach for a pillow and hug it to your chest, hoping to stop the ache.
"Yeah?" you ask, trying not to cry.
"Yeah," he laughs. "But he's not as good at yelling at reality show contestants as you are. Your creative insults are unparalleled."
"Muchas gracias, Señor Spray Tan," you say sarcastically.
"I'm actually getting a bit of a real tan, believe it or not."
"Not."
"He's going to teach me how to surf this summer."
They're already making plans for the summer?
"That's great," you lie, tears leaking down your cheeks. "Can't really picture you surfing, though."
"Then I shall send you photographic proof!" he laughs.
"I can see the headline now: Pale British Man In Banana Hammock Gets Bullied Off Beach By Tweens."
"I'll be wearing a wetsuit, thank you very much," he says haughtily. You both laugh until it trails into silence.
"How was Eric's birthday?" he asks.
"Uh…" you chuckle nervously. "We had a lot of fun."
"Fun, in one of the most acclaimed restaurants in New York?"
"We didn't exactly make it to the restaurant," you admit, smiling at the memory.
"Why not?!" he demands.
"Some little bitch had just broken up with him. With a text. On his birthday."
"Ouch," he says.
"Yeah," you sigh. "He was pretty upset about it, so I dragged him to the arcade instead. We had a lot of fun. Ate a lot of fried food. He absolutely kicked my ass at that dancing game you used to love."
Evan laughs.
"Have you seen much of him since I've been away?"
"No," you answer. "He's busy with school and people his own age, why would he want to hang out with his boring-ass sister-in-law?"
"Because you're amazing," Evan chuckles. "And he really likes you."
"Of course he likes me," you smile, "I feed him."
"He'd like you even if you didn't feed him," he laughs. "The boy was practically glued to you at Christmas."
"Because you invited a bunch of strangers over," you argue, "and instructed them to throw their coats on his bed."
"You know, I felt awful about leaving you in the city alone… but knowing that you'd have him nearby made me feel a lot better."
"Cool, so you pawned me off on your little brother before abandoning me." Your eyes bulge. You didn't mean to say that out loud.
"No, you sarcastic ass, I did not."
A moment of tense silence follows.
"How are you?" he asks, his tone changing.
Lonely, heartbroken, miserable, would give anything to have had the hospital pick literally anyone else for this stupid fellowship and not steal your best friend away from you for an entire year and possibly forever. You hate everyone, you hate everything, all you want is for him to come home to you. Does that sound a little desperate?
"I'm fine," you lie. "It's kinda weird, though. Watching trash TV isn't fun anymore? I picked up a book the other day and read like six pages. Don't know what got into me."
Evan snorts, and the sound makes you smile.
"I miss you too, love."
A voice in the background.
"I have to go," he says. "I'll talk to next week, yeah?"
"Yeah," you breathe.
"Love you."
"Love you, too," you respond.
You end the call and sob into your pillow.
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Five Minutes After Leaving Eric in the Hospital
"Hi, love."
"They're keeping him," you inform your husband, dodging slow walkers on the sidewalk on your way back to work. You've got so much to do between now and tomorrow at this time, when Eric will hopefully be coming home with you.
"Did you see him?"
"Yeah," you answer, "but not for long."
"How is he?"
"Not great," you croak, tears welling in your eyes at the memory of Eric sobbing into your shoulder. You hate that you had to leave him there, all alone.
"So he did try," Evan sighs. "Did he say why?"
"No," you answer. "The only thing he said was that your old man would probably enjoy reminding him that he fails at everything."
Evan groans.
"I think we should tell him, Ev," you say quietly.
"No."
"Evan, I'm going back to get him tomorrow, or the next day, or whenever they let me. He's coming home with me, and I'm going to take care of him for as long as he needs me to. How can I look this poor boy in the eye and ask him to tell me the truth about the worst day of his life, when our entire relationship is a lie?"
"It's not a lie," Evan argues. "We are married, we love each other, and he is your brother-in-law. He doesn't need to know anything more."
"And what if he tried to check out for the same reason you did?" you challenge.
Silence. Evan's darkest hour, now just a distant memory from med school, is rarely spoken of. You hate having to weaponize it.
"And what if he runs back to England and tells everyone?" he asks.
"Then it's the desperate ramblings of a suicidal loser trying to take the heat off himself," you spit. "Who do you think they're going to believe, Evan? Us, or him?"
Evan stays silent for so long, you hold the phone away from your face to see if the call got dropped. It didn't.
"Alright," he says eventually. "I'm going to wrap a few things up and try to get back there in the next day or two. I guess we should probably do this together."
"Good," you say, tone lightening. He's coming home. Everything will be alright when Evan comes home.
"I'll see you soon, alright?"
"Okay," you smile, feeling your spirits rise for the first time in months. "I love you."
"I love you, too."
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dozing-marshmallow · 10 months
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I looooooooove the chris x wife! reader fic that you wrote!! It got me kicking my feet and blushing 😊 By any chance, could you write a chris x wife! reader going on their honeymoon?
Awww this is such a cute idea, thank you so much, I’m so happy to hear that you loved the last one! ⋆˙⟡♡  I had to get something out on the man’s birthday as soon as I could and this request was the one I was fixated on finishing the most, so do enjoy reading and McLean’s bday ~💗!
CHRIS MCLEAN X WIFE! READER ON HONEYMOON HEADCANONS
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Most newly wed couples go to just one location for their honeymoon.
Yet it was very poor of you to think that standard would apply to Chris.
You didn’t realise until he informed you that you were gonna go to two countries per continent(apart from Antartica, cuz what the hell): Barbados and Costa Rica for North America, Brazil and Colombia for South America, France and Italy for Europe, Thailand and (The) Philippines for Asia, Morocco and Tunisia for Africa, French Polynesia and Australia for Oceania.
The only reason why Chris cut it to two instead of four was because he suspected you would get sick of travelling, and didn’t want you to be complaining on holiday.
“Chriiis, we don’t need to, you know!” you’re verbal about your humble take on the honeymoon as Chris made his long list based on the notes he wrote from his and your opinions,“This is all so costly! We could really go to two continents instead!”
“Huh?” he looks at you, confusion scratching into the space between his eyebrows,“(Y/N), this is literally nothing. You seriously wanna spend our whole two months of celebrating marriage in one place like working class people?”
Harsh, but it’s fine because it’s Chris.
Before you left, he took you on a massive shopping spree where it had not even been the beginning of him pampering you with all the jewellery, the swimsuits and the candies.
This guy doesn’t need to book reservations: the best hotels, air BNBs, holiday homes, you name the one you want to stay at the country and baam. Availability opens a door and charm hands over the keys.
He also hired a chaperone for each country, but most of the time, only for the arrival and departure; he wanted more alone time with you.
At this rate, you wondered if he needed to pay to enter the countries asides from paying the fuel and landing runway.
That’s right. You were getting there by his jet -he ended up upgrading- to each location.
Since it wasn’t meant to carry fifteen contestants this time, Chris abolished the loser and first class section in the new version of his plane to be furnished completely into his headquarters.
During each jet ride, you and Chris would review helpful phrases and attractions that would enhance the experience.
“So in France, we will have to remember to say “bonsoir” from 6 PM onwards.” you reiterate.
“That’s doable.” Chris comments, leaning back in his chair.
“And they don’t like smiling a lot.” you add, doing it yourself.
His relaxation ended,“Bummer. D’you think they can make an exception for me? My resting face is a smile.”
They did- in every place.
The honeymoon was an epoch for Chris to meet his fans from all over the world. If you had a dollar for every autograph he signed the entire getaway, you would have enough money to have your own jet.
Weirdly enough, Chris lost genuine pleasure to greet his global admirers and increasingly rushed the interactions.
“It’s okay to be more attentive to your fans, Chris.” you insist, with your head on his bare body, laying around somewhere on the warm Tunisian beach.
“Nah.” he differs with his hand scrubbing sand on your back,“I came on holiday with you, not them. I couldn’t leave you by yourself.”
Aw. You love your husband,“You’re right. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”
He bought you anything that caught your eye. Clothes, hats, rings, ice cream, souvenirs.
Chris had also bought five cameras. He wasn’t letting a single moment of a scenery or pose go to waste.
Be prepared for the day when he eventually gets them all printed out and stuck in fresh albums and wants to reminisce with you.
He took you to the best restaurants, never settling for one less than five stars (maybe four if you persuaded him enough).
“To another exceptional night of our honeymoon!” he raises his glass of happiness.
You copy, both clinking and declaring cheers.
Going back to your accommodation, Chris would have you carried until the first descent onto the fine duvets.
Let’s just say that, by the time you do get back to Canada, both husband and wife’s necks have never been more wine red.
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